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I'm
with the Brand:
The Consumer As Fan
[
by Carrie McLaren ]
There's a parallel moment in nearly every episode of FANatic,
MTV's new show that hooks up obsessed fans with their idols. Fan--upon
meeting Celebrity--gains composure long enough to launch into a
spiraling testimony about how Celeb has changed Fan's life. Sometimes
there's a former drug problem, dead parents, depression, or poverty.
In the midst of such catharsis, the stars come off as normal, reasonable,
dull--real people after all. Though "very MTV," formula alone can't
account for the stunning similarities of the testimonies, which
usually include bromides gleaned from Celeb's lyrics or interviews:
Follow Your Heart; Strivers Achieve What Dreamers Believe; Be True
to Yourself, Stay in School, Love Your Mother.
To the viewer--or anyone other than the fan, really--whether these
beliefs were inspired by Van Halen or Susan Lucci (still waiting
for the Strom Thurmond episode) is strangely irrelevant. The difference
resides in the fanatic's head. Every so often even the star, instead
of smiling appreciatively, will suggest that they're not all Fan
imagines: "No, Johnny, you earned that A+" or "No, you
got your life together, not me."
It's funny, but watching these testimonies to celebrity night
after night undermines the very myth that makes them work: the belief
that the object of affection matters. Said object could just
as well be a foxy college professor, Jesus, or a brand of tennis
shoes. Small wonder the pithy lessons gleaned from Celebs resemble
ad slogans. The fanatic narrative, so fitting for MTV, is like that
of commercials, with the stars working magic in the same way products
do. Image is everything. Nike, Macintosh, Coke, Pepsi, Disney, whatever
works for you.
She won't be on FANatic anytime soon, but Pepsi Girl Heather
Denman drinks fourteen cans a day, paints her fingernails with Pepsi
logos, chooses her dates based on whether they drink Pepsi or Coke,
and surrounds herself with Pepsi paraphernalia. The good people
at Pepsi have even flown her to Hollywood for a Generation Next
party.
Diehard Macintosh users are known as Evangelists for their zealous
promotion of Macintosh products and circulation of lists such as
Famous Mac Users and Why Mac Kicks Windoze Butt. Among Nike devotees,
getting a tattoo is practically de rigueur. One fan, Claudia Montgomery,
37, sent me a letter she'd written (but
never sent) to Nike chronicling her battle with drug abuse and eventual
recovery through softball. She writes: "I am one of your most loyal
customers. My closet is full of shoes and clothes. I guess one could
say I have traded addictions. At least this one is healthy."
The fact that consumer brands should inspire fans as devoted as
those of musicians and celebrities makes sense in a way. Hollywood
and Madison Avenue have long competed for each other's territory.
Movies are long commercials, commercials are quickie movies.
Michael Jordan, Madonna, and the Spice Girls are not only themselves
products (or brands) but ads. Buy the album. See the movie. Wear
the cologne. Watch TV. A recent New York Times article suggests
that Rosie O'Donnell--herself a vocal fan of theater--is the best
ad Broadway could have, in the same way Oprah is the best ad books
can have. This isn't strictly endorsement, which assumes that the
one doing the endorsing is outside the picture. This is more like
borrowing Snap! Crackle!, and Pop! to sell milk instead of cereal.
As Advertising Age puts it: stars today don't sell brands,
they are brands.
And brands, in turn, are human. Personification may be nothing
new--Mr. Jenkins is only a recent addition to the pantheon starring
Mickey Mouse and Tony the Tiger. But personification is only the
most obvious method. Most brands work by acquiring social traits
in one form or another. Market researchers frequently strategize
by asking consumers, "If Vaseline were a person, what kind of person
would she be?" "If you were at a party, whom would you rather talk
to: Cadillac or Volkswagen?" Why? Because no one buys yellow carbonated
sugar water or four-wheeled hunks of metal. They buy Mountain Dew
or Saturn.
As a metaphor for consumption, though, FANatic is incomplete.
Where are the cynics? And the dirt diggers? Most Pepsi drinkers
don't collect used cans for wallpaper.
And in fact many of those cheering for celebrities joke about
it. Internet followers of Ariel--the full-figured cartoon protagonist
of The Little Mermaid--formed a group called Arielholics
Anonymous to treat their "dangerous addiction." The Web site reads:
"Can you recite the movie, the TV episodes, and all the songs by
heart? Do you have urges to rub warm olive oil over Ariel? Did you
need to take out a loan to pay for your expenditures on Ariel merchandise?
. . . then you need help fast!"
Fans of Mentos have written at length about the company's campy
commercials, analyzing them for hidden meanings, staking out obscure
details behind their creation, and sharing "Real-life Mento Moments."
A lengthy Mentos FAQ--complete with company history, jingle lyrics,
"Flavor Considerations," eating instructions, fan fiction, and loads
of minutiae--is available on one of several Mentos Web sites.
Warm olive oil . . . ?
Whether these folks are any less obsessed than die-hard "Disneyaniacs,"
Mac Evangelists, or Nike lovers is arguable. They are, however,
ironic rather than earnest. You can be obsessed as long as you do
it with a self-awareness of being obsessed . . . a response advertising
actually encourages. Ads all but beg to be read ironically: the
"not believing" is built right in. That sense of detachment flatters
us and keeps us watching.
Joshua Gamson is a Yale professor who's
written about the way audiences increasingly crave info about the
manufacture of fame. "The process is a story in itself," says Gamson.
Look at the Entertainment Weekly stories dissecting Eddie
Murphy's "image 'recovery strategy' " and the anti-ads (Sprite's
"Image is Nothing," Miller Lite's Dick) that make fun of advertising.
The exposure of artifice--rather than turning us away from commercial
culture--engages us in other ways. When authenticity is irrelevant,
we can see the celebs/ads as prefabricated jokes and remain wholly
entertained. Witness all the anti-Hanson, anti-Titanic ("the
Titanic sank, let's move on"), anti-Tamagotchi zines and Web sites.
Of course, people focused on hating the Spice Girls--and collecting
pictures, building Web sites, and making jokes about hating the
Spice Girls--are nonetheless focused on the Spice Girls. Their criticisms
don't challenge consumption; they suggest we're not consuming the
right stuff.
"Everything is in terms of consumption," says Gamson (who, for
the record, loves the Spice Girls, hates Disney, and suspects Julia
Roberts could turn him straight). What's disturbing, he argues,
is not that we use consumption symbols to create and communicate--but
the fact that that's all we use. Commercial symbols clearly address
real, human needs. But the solution they provide to meet them leads
on a treadmill to nowhere. How to transcend mere fandom (or prove
inspiration)? Be a bigger fan. To stand out from the audience, watch
more, collect more, and whatever you do, be visible about it!
Stepping off the treadmill means not simply exposing and countering
ads or TV shows, but creating real alternatives to commercial culture.
For instance? Um, we're working on it. Meanwhile . . . Jazzercise?
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Text from MTV's Fanatic website
Cindy Crawford has influenced me so much. Because
of her I have started thinking about my future. I raised my grades
in school and started looking for jobs in the paper everyday. She's
helping me to change my life."
-- HHKCheer16
"At one point in my life, I was seeing a counselor and spent every
moment fighting off the urge to kill myself. One day I took a listen
to a song I had heard a thousand times before, "100 Years" by Blues
Traveler . . . I'll tell ya, it made me realize that no matter what
was going on around me, I shouldn't let it hit me too hard." --
Jeremy B.
"Last Christmas, my mom died. I didn't think I could make it and
then one night I was watching TV and saw Carmen Electra on [MTV's]
Singled Out. She was so beautiful, that for an instant, I
got my mind off of my mom." -- Fusion1599
"The Wallflowers helped me grow closer to my brother. He likes Alternative,
and I like Pop, but with the Wallflowers, we can enjoy the same
songs!" -- Tvtweety10
"I used to do drugs on a daily basis and now I have changed my life
around by watching Ozzy. I missed so much of my life that I hope
and pray that someday I might be able to work for a drug abuse clinic
to help others to change their life around like Ozzy has for me."
--Melanie O.
"Bryan Adams's music has taught me that life does go on after you've
lost someone. Within the past year I have lost four relatives, three
very close friends and a close teacher of mine, due to a drunk driver
. . . I sang "Everything I Do" at my [relative's] funerals and it
made me realize that no matter what I do I have 8 angels looking
out for me." -- S. Cheehy
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