Skip to main content

Old Spice: Old school to new cool

   Every man in my family - from my grandfather to my 28-year-old son - wears Old Spice.  Not the hippest choice, until this genius ad campaign changed everything.  "I'm on a horse."  Priceless.  
   (OK, who cares about any of that?  I just wanted to put that steamy Isaiah Mustafa on my blog so I can see him every day.)

Comments

Great minds! I posted this video the other day too. Woof!
Flowers said…
No doubt. He is hot.

Wuz looking for a link to your basketball superstitions / favorite bar stool article. No link. Nice article. I like reading the stories you write as you head out and about.
BoomerGirl said…
Carol: I KNEW I saw that somewhere!! Duh. What a copycat I am. But, can you blame me?

Flowers: I'll post the link soon. I've got another March Madness blog post in mine. Thanks for the reminder! I've been more scattered than usual lately.
Oh pleez, this dude's getting a ton of press! Let's run away with him. Your thoughts?
BoomerGirl said…
I'm not sure the three of us would fit on that horse - even backwards - but I'm willing to try.

Popular posts from this blog

I'll be back after these messages

Boy, I thought I'd never see the old blog again after the whirlwind of life I've had - and am still having - this fall.  Thanks for not giving up on me.
First, the wedding in late October came off with only one hitch. (Don't get me started on over-extended wedding planners.) I ended up cobbling an outfit together from Chico's in taupe (my spin on the mother-of-the-groom mandate: Wear beige and keep your mouth shut), threw on a bunch of pearls and an autumnal pashmina, and did my own hair. Boom! Done. The beautiful Sunday evening wedding in the country culminated a week-long string of activities I have come to call Burning Man East due to the predominance of bonfires at various celebrations. Big fun, big exhaustion.
Three days after the newlyweds returned to Brooklyn, my son summoned the hubs to Game 5 of the World Series in Queens (in which the home team was playing the Mets.) The kid flew his old man to NYC,  bought tickets for themselves and two others, and put him u…

Sabi: Helping your medicine cabinet look hip

I've always said that the companies who figure out how to make aging cool will win baby boomers' hearts in the end (or, better yet, a decade or two before the end.) The stakes are high. There are 78 million of us and gazillions of dollars to be made on our inevitable decline. Enter Sabi. With a mission "....to create products that are intuitively and beautifully designed in order to infuse life’s daily rituals with delight," Sabi boasts that their products "marry superb functionality, simplicity, and aesthetics to make the most mundane to-dos – from taking your daily vitamins to taking out the trash – more enjoyable." I received this bevy of review samples in the mail yesterday: pill folio (aka: 'pill organizer'), dispenser, chopper, crusher and holster. I have to admit, I like the look - sleek, simple and utilitarian....although two of my friends have said they'd need 3 pill folios to hold all their supplements. (Sigh.) Still, I give it two…

Gray hair: A luxury anyone can afford.

I got one of those back-handed compliments on my gray hair from a stranger today: "I wish I could do it. But, I'm afraid of looking old....oh, gawd....but YOURS looks great... really!!" 
    No harm, no foul. It's happened before.
    Charla Krupp, author of "How Not to Look Old," once said, "it's such a luxury to be able to go gray. Because it is an aging look, and it means that you don't care about people knowing your age." 
    She was probably right. Thankfully, I've never been shy about stating my age - it's 56, for the record - or asking others their number, especially when playing 'Who do you know?' The gentler, albeit sneakier, way is asking the year they graduated high school, but sometimes I forget and just blurt it out, often taking people aback.
      But, does it bother me? The looking older part, I mean?
      No. But, admittedly, I'm married. I'm not in the meat market, the job market, or any othe…