Wednesday, March 2, 2011

There's Nothing That a Hundred Men or More Could Ever Do

I was walking past Eddie Bauer today and I casually looked in the window. I actually really like Eddie Bauer. I guess I'm kind of smitten with the idea of being incredibly outdoorsy. I like the idea of eating Clif Bars and wearing Merrells while I hike the trails of the Smokey Mountains. Probably more than actually doing those activities, I like the idea of looking really great in camp shirts, cargo capris, Keen sandals and a super thrown-together ponytail and bang combo. I want my clothing color palette to consist of olive green, brown, rust, and maroon. Granola.

Upon looking in the window, I saw the store's new add campaign: "Kilimanjaro: From the Desert to the Mountain." Around the clothes, there are photos of incredibly clean and good-looking models are wearing cargo clothing, linen and sandals. Eddie Bauer says,

"For Spring, we took a trip to the highest freestanding mountain in the world. Shop the travel-ready outfits we wore and the gear that got us there."

Really? By the looks of the window, a team of makeup and hair artists, personal stylists and models took a trip to Africa. I'll bet they slept in tents. Uh huh, tents.

How exotic! White People!

The Bourgeois Bohemian notion of "safari wear," usually entraps middle-aged women with a Banana Republic credit card and a husband in sales,

(Basically this kind of scenario. My Gawd, will she ever stop?)

but the models in this marketing campaign are much younger.

Yeah, you may have forty-thousand dollars in student loans, but you should dress like you're on your way to the farmer's market. That is, after your trip to the Sahara and sheet-rocking your foyer.


All you ever needed to know about Africa, you can learn from Toto.

I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She's coming in twelve-thirty flight
Her moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation
I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say: "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you"

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

The wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what's right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that I've become

[Repeat chorus]

[Instrumental break]

Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you

[Repeat chorus]
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1 comment:

  1. I'd really like to enroll in a NOLS class, but I doubt that we'd ever have the time or money for me to do so. However, unless it involves a pith helmet and elephant gun, or a flannel shirt and lineman boots, I doubt I'd be dressing the part of a rugged outdoorsman.