(photo: Babicka Vodka [I know,Martinis are made with gin])
...the sleek taste of a dry Martini...
(photo: Cafe Zupas)
...the smell of a freshly baked loaf of bread...
(1748 portrait by Hausmann)
...the chipper sounds of a keyboard sonata by Bach...
(photo: J.Press)
...and the sophisticated look of a Harris tweed sports jacket from J. Press"
So begins the radio ad that J.Press has currently been running.
Every morning, I listen to WHRB, the Harvard radio station. They play jazz until 1:00 p.m. The good stuff, the real stuff. Not just a bunch of Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk ( not that there's anything wrong with that) but some real obscure burners only a jazz nerd would love. Keeps me happy without having to mess with the record player when I've got stuff to do. Around 11:00 a.m., the J.Press ad comes on. A soft spoken man goes on to explain that clothing from Press is American made, gives a laundry list of things like Shetland wool sweaters and 'butter soft" cashmere overcoats that are available at this place which "for over 100 years has epitomized the Ivy League look." He reminds us that the goods are durable and classic, and closes by saying that "a wardrobe from J.Press speaks volumes about who you are, quietly and with confidence."
Recently, Mrs. G. remarked on the fact that everything these days is sold with a wacky ad, or a naked girl, or some kind of bad dirty joke. She reminded me of a time when ads like this came on, when we were kids, with a guy softly proclaiming the quality of the goods offered, often using sturdiness and longevity as selling points.
It's been a long time since I felt so much like part of a target demographic, and was actually glad of it.
Now, if only I could afford to shop there.
