Dear New Balance Marketing People, We need to talk.
It's about your commercial, my shoes, and that little complex you just gave me. Not sure what I'm talking about? Let me refresh your memory.
Exhibit A: (Your ad---a.k.a My New Complex)
Before I get into the specifics on where you can send the new shoes to replace Those That I Shall Never Wear Again and I'm a size 9, thank you, let me first congratulate you on a job well done. I am not easily swayed by advertising. Usually. Okay fine. There was that little Barbie phase I went through when I was eight, but I got over that really fast when I realized that playing Barbie at home was a total downer compared to what they made it look like in the ads. I have grown up since then.
Mostly. I have a mind of my own and am proud of that. No one tells me what to do or what to like. (And by the way, Swiffer? It's really time to hire a new marketing team. But you knew that already, didn't you?)
Then I saw your ad. While I was wearing, well...we won't talk about my choice in footwear. We can talk about The Husband's smirk as he saw my face fall. Or his outright laughter when I threw out an "Oh HELL no!" Or the fact that I promptly went upstairs to my closet, threw the complexes I once called shoes into a corner, and dug out my old sneakers for my walk. There's also The Husband laughing at me when I came back downstairs. And of course, we can talk about me telling The Husband that you and your savvy and saucy little marketing team owes me a pair of shoes.
Because really? You totally do.