Normally, I’m not one who climbs onto a soapbox to complain about stuff. I’m a laid-back, go-with-the-flow kind of gal. Unless it’s an issue that hits super-close to my heart.
So, what’s close to my heart?
Well, for one … raising three girls to the best of my ability.
And when something (or someone) comes along and tries to undermine me in that mission, I feel the need to speak up. So here I go … speaking up.
So, what’s close to my heart?
Well, for one … raising three girls to the best of my ability.
And when something (or someone) comes along and tries to undermine me in that mission, I feel the need to speak up. So here I go … speaking up.
Dear Hardees,
I want you to know that I haven’t eaten at one of your restaurants in a very long time. Decades, actually. And I want you to know why. Your commercials make me want to lose my lunch.
Let’s start with the fact that they are so ridiculously unrealistic. Seriously. I’ve eaten a lot of cheeseburgers, but not once have I felt the need to throw on a string bikini, bend over in some awkwardly provocative position and pretend to seduce my sandwich.
I mean, seriously. Who does that?
I have to wonder, is that really the best you’ve got? Is your advertising staff so lazy and uncreative that they have to resort to inappropriate ads to get our attention? I know, sex sells, right? Well, I’m not buying it.
I can already imagine what you are thinking. Lighten up, lady.
Let me explain why I won't take your nasty commercials lightly. Emily. Taylor. Madison. My three daughters. For the past 18 years, I’ve had the monumental task of raising them to be confident, self-respecting, strong women.
And I take that job very seriously.
Then you came along and tried to annihilate all my hard work. Your commercials contribute to so many struggles that girls face today. Poor body image. Eating disorders. Feelings of inadequacy. Depression. Obsession with diets.
I want you to know that I haven’t eaten at one of your restaurants in a very long time. Decades, actually. And I want you to know why. Your commercials make me want to lose my lunch.
Let’s start with the fact that they are so ridiculously unrealistic. Seriously. I’ve eaten a lot of cheeseburgers, but not once have I felt the need to throw on a string bikini, bend over in some awkwardly provocative position and pretend to seduce my sandwich.
I mean, seriously. Who does that?
I have to wonder, is that really the best you’ve got? Is your advertising staff so lazy and uncreative that they have to resort to inappropriate ads to get our attention? I know, sex sells, right? Well, I’m not buying it.
I can already imagine what you are thinking. Lighten up, lady.
Let me explain why I won't take your nasty commercials lightly. Emily. Taylor. Madison. My three daughters. For the past 18 years, I’ve had the monumental task of raising them to be confident, self-respecting, strong women.
And I take that job very seriously.
Then you came along and tried to annihilate all my hard work. Your commercials contribute to so many struggles that girls face today. Poor body image. Eating disorders. Feelings of inadequacy. Depression. Obsession with diets.
I understand that the models you use aren’t actually as perfect as they look on TV – but little girls don’t. When they see your commercials, they see an impossible standard of beauty. A “beauty” they could never attain – because it isn’t even real.
Little girls grow up believing they need to dress or act like the women in your commercials. They mistakenly believe the only way to feel important or valuable is to draw attention to their bodies.
And here’s another thing that really annoys me. One minute my family might be watching the Super Bowl or the Olympics, the next minute, we've got women hanging out (literally) in skimpy lingerie and chatting about three-ways. By the way, thanks. That wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with my eleven-year-old.
I remember the model in your commercial … staring seductively into the camera while saying, “It’s called a three-way burger. What did you expect?”
Well, Hardees, I expect you to show some courtesy toward women. I expect that, while watching family-oriented shows with my kids, I won’t be bombarded by images of bare breasts and sexual innuendoes. I also expect you to actually promote the product you’re selling. Remember? Hamburgers.
Selling burgers doesn’t give you the right to treat women like a piece of meat. Your commercials aren’t entertaining or clever. They are disgusting and I want you to stop it.
Stop undermining what I’m trying to teach my daughters. Stop lying to women. And for heaven’s sake, stop grossing me out.
Do I sound a bit harsh? I hope so. After all, I am the mother of three girls. What did you expect?
Little girls grow up believing they need to dress or act like the women in your commercials. They mistakenly believe the only way to feel important or valuable is to draw attention to their bodies.
And here’s another thing that really annoys me. One minute my family might be watching the Super Bowl or the Olympics, the next minute, we've got women hanging out (literally) in skimpy lingerie and chatting about three-ways. By the way, thanks. That wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with my eleven-year-old.
I remember the model in your commercial … staring seductively into the camera while saying, “It’s called a three-way burger. What did you expect?”
Well, Hardees, I expect you to show some courtesy toward women. I expect that, while watching family-oriented shows with my kids, I won’t be bombarded by images of bare breasts and sexual innuendoes. I also expect you to actually promote the product you’re selling. Remember? Hamburgers.
Selling burgers doesn’t give you the right to treat women like a piece of meat. Your commercials aren’t entertaining or clever. They are disgusting and I want you to stop it.
Stop undermining what I’m trying to teach my daughters. Stop lying to women. And for heaven’s sake, stop grossing me out.
Do I sound a bit harsh? I hope so. After all, I am the mother of three girls. What did you expect?
