We've been a bit quiet here at The Marilyn due to it being Christmas and such and for that we apologise. We apologise profusely. We're sorry. As it was the season of Christmas cheer and much brevity we feel our internet inaction can be explained away by the fact that we've been spending most of our time over the past week or so gleefully stuffing our fat faces with food, seeing family (cousin Charles mainly) and doing a large amount of lying down. Entwined into this hotbed of cultural action has understandably been a large portion of television watching. So as a little precursor to things to follow in 2010 we thought we'd take this opportunity to mark the end of 'the noughties' (good god we've got to think of something better to call it than that; history will not forgive us if we don't) to provide a small televisual footnote to the year that was 2009. Strangely enough it comes in the trim, yet none the less harrowing vision of Cheryl Cole and her new advert for Loreal.
It was undboutably the year of Cole as she wooed the nation on the X Factor with her incessant patronising 'concern' and 'admiration' that she seemed to hand out by the bucketload to an ever ready and willing stream of reality-blinkered cretins. She proved this by crying loads. We at The Marilyn can't think the last time we cried. It was probably when something sad happened as apposed to EVERY TIME A TELEVISION CAMERA WAS POINTED AT OUR FACE. To be fair she does have a face that warrants having a camera pointed at it so maybe (not maybe, definitely) we're just jealous, seeing as she looks like a porcelain angel and we look like a bunch of malnourished owls slowly pecking away at a beehive of shame. See here for a montage of what the nation now deems endearing. It's enough to make you sick. And then kill everyone.
Anyway, collective forgetting is a wonderful thing and her past mishaps such as, oh I don't know, say committing a racially charged assault on a girl in a nightclub (Whoops a daisy! Done herself a mischief) have long been forgotten and she is now the new face of Loreal, promoting some hair shit or something. The advert is strange though. Very, very strange. Her troubled relationship with professional footballer Ashley Cole is well documented and this advert seems to be not only hinting at, but completely and utterly playing on the accusations that Ashley's heart may not be 100% in the relationship, to put it gently. Just replace the word hair with 'Ashley's Penis' and the advert takes on the vision of a macabre nightmarish scene where every woman in the world stands laughing and pointing chanting "Mister floppy, Mister floppy!"*
The opening lines of the advert are even more brazen and unsettling, and have you looking around the room in a state of befuddlement asking yourself internally, "is Cheryl Cole selling viagra?". Anyway the advert speaks for itself, so do enjoy.
If you're looking for the best Cheryl Cole-related snippet from the internet it undoubtably has to be this Twitter profile belonging to Cheryl Kerl that documents her everyday activities done entirely in Geordie dialect, it's as hard to read as she is to comprehend.
Now we wait for 2010 to see who will rise from the lowly ranks of sociopathic nightclub racist, to the giddy heights of constantly-weeping pop starlet. Whoever it is, we can be safe in the knowledge that they will most likely be guided by the invisible and unstoppable power that is the hand of Simon Cowell.
* The Marilyn Mansion is well aware this says more about our damaged psyche's than the advert itself. It's still quite funny though (the imagery, not erectile dysfunction).
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