Okay, so I really didn’t see motor oil with pink ribbons on the label, but considering that I’ve seen it on every other product, I wouldn’t doubt its existence.
That being said, the sight of pink ribbons on nearly everything at the supermarket is getting kind of tiring. Good cause, I know, but still, its reaching the saturation level, and a point where consumers will start to ignore it.
What’s the strangest or most inappropriate product you’ve seen with a pink ribbon slapped on the label?
If you liked pink motor oil, you’d LOVE the pink cars that ran at NASCAR’s Bank of America 500 at Charlotte Motor Speedway on October 11:
Of course, there are collectable diecast versions of these cars.
Just for the record–it is October, which is breast cancer awareness month. The pink-ribbony goodness should abate soon.
Well, I’m saturated, for damn sure. All this pink shit, I’ve started calling it Barbie cancer.
And hark! You knew it was out there…
Pink shit? Barbie cancer?
I’ll concede that women are more likely to die of heart disease than breast cancer, but it’s one month a year. I’m glad to see companies making that effort to raise money for breast cancer research, and if I can help a bit by buying a pink ribbon keychain (thanks, Energizer bunny) or potato chip bag clips (thanks, Target) then I will.
It’s something I needed anyway, and if my few pennies get rolled into research, so much the better.
What bothers me about the whole thing is that I despise pink and its assumed connection to being female. Even as a woman, I’m not likely to buy any of these products because the color of them nauseates me, and I know my brothers and my husband aren’t going to buy them. It’s kind of a polarizing color. It doesn’t bother me that the pink things are around, though. Hell, we have to put up with red/green and blue/white for 4 months a year, so a month of pink isn’t a problem.
I did buy a Breast Cancer Research chenille throw at Target yesterday that was a nice sandy beige with just a few subtle threads of pink running through it, and that I could stand. The pink rubber boots–no way.
Men can also get breast cancer, so imagine how they feel about breast cancer = pink!
I’m looking beyond the color. Pink ribbons are recognizable as supporters/survivors of breast cancer, just like red = AIDS. So if I buy a pink item during October, I don’t see it as buying something pink. I see it as helping fund breast cancer research.
One of the local funeral parlors has breast cancer awareness ads on TV. :eek:
The whole thing smacks of blackmail to me. Having the Komen foundation show up at your corporate HQ is about like having Vito show up at your retail shop. You either pay up, or else …
Imagine for a minute, somebody like Target or General Foods saying “Nope, we won’t pay umpteen hundred thousand dollars to redecorate our stores & re-design all our packaging just so we can have the privilege of splitting our already meager margins with you.”
They’d be hung by a howling mob of bloggers in a minute.
Research & fighting disease is a good thing, regardless of which disease. Making breast cancer somehow a special disease is just silly. Having said that, I remember the MDA, March of Dimes, the birth defects people, etc., from 30-40 years ago. Each era has pushy charities for the diseases which seemed particularly scary at the time.
As near as I can tell, the Komen foundation is simply a giant ego trip for the sister of the poor woman who died of the disease. If they are actually interested in a cure, not just the biggest possible headstone for one very ordinary person, then I think it’s about time for them to drop her name & call it the “Breast Cancer Funding Foundation” or something.
Use your pink laptop computer to (Microsoft Live) Messenger your friends about the special pink Kitchenaid mixer and pink Oreck vacuum. If the thought of all this corporate generousity gets to you, pick up your roll of Quilted Northern toilet paper to blot the tears. If you rub, you may smear your Prescriptives or Bobbi Brown makeup. *
What winds up happening, though, is that the companies spend more money advertising their pink ribbon products than is actually donated to the cause. And if the consumers buy stuff they weren’t already planning to, more could have been raised had they simply sent in a check. But the pink ribbon and the Product:RED products let us have the best of both worlds; we get to buy stuff and feel good about it.
I agree with this. Let the research and treatment continue, by all means, but change the name of the foundation. I am not fond of pink–I can’t think of a worse color (maybe bright orange or lime green) for a chemo pt to wear. Actually, I’m tired of the whole “wear a ribbon and feel good about yourself” stuff. By all means, support that which is meaningful to you, but for awhile there, you needed a legend to understand what color ribbon stood for what cause/disease/disaster.
My sister , mother and aunt had breast cancer. And I hate the “Buy Pink” ad campaigns. I hate using a legitimate cause as a sales tool. I actually dislike the fact that breast cancer gets so much funding, taking dollars away from other cancers that are equally as deadly. My mother may have survived breast cancer (although she died from a cerebral hemorrhage 3 weeks ago - what about funding that?), but lung cancer killed my father and pancreatic cancer killed my grandmother. Two uncles have had colon cancer, an uncle and first cousin kidney cancer and a sister, aunt and nephew thyroid cancer. It all needs attention and funding.
StG
Condolences on the recent loss of your sister
This is actually becoming kind of a political issue - breast cancer advocates are getting tired of the “pinkwashing” on every kind of product you can think of. Check out http://www.thinkbeforeyoupink.org/
And this: Welcome to Cancerland.
I’m no fan of breast cancer, but using the same marketing and colour scheme as a doll conglomerate makes me feel, as a target purchaser, infantilized. And the linking of chartable giving with shopping- howsabout I just cut a cheque for the $2 Kitchenaid would send the Kormen people if I bought the pink turnip twaddler?
Charging walk participants $2000 to participate certainly makes it a predominantly upper middle class event. Can’t raise the loot? They’ll let you donate what you scraped up and you can watch from the sidelines
Well, click on the link in my sig for free and feel good about yourself, if you don’t want to buy pink.
I think it’s about awareness, too…maybe some woman shopping will see all the pink, think “Hey, it’s been three years since my last mammogram, better make an appointment.”