Face Value

The logic behind this move was faultless, impeccable even; Bond's driving of the Aston-Martin DB5, a vehicle which offered the sort of ride more often associated with a high-spirited tractor, virtually single-handedly saved the ailing motor manufacturer from bankruptcy. His association with the martini is such that ordering one at the local saloon is sure to gain you a certain measure of admiration from all in earshot, suggesting that despite all and any appearances to the contrary, you are a person of taste and sophistication.

Similarly, when asked in an interview what she wore to bed, Marilyn Monroe replied, 'Chanel No.5'. As a result of this once-uttered, off-hand remark, that fragrance will be inextricably linked with the undisputed sex symbol of the 20th century and thus its longevity in our new one is pretty much assured. One does not however predict the same life expectancy for the fragrances associated with Jennifer Lopez and Celine Dion, nor does history record the success of the 007 cigarette experiment, which says a great deal.

That said there is still no better short cut to achieving brand-distinction than by having the right face attached to your brand. And here one has to stress right. Aramis and Andre Agassi, wonderful. Sarah Michelle Gellar and Mabelline, super. Michael Schumacher and Omega, raises for all concerned. However, it is doubtful that all of them combined have done as much for their products as Sarah Jessica Parker has done for Manolo Blahniks by having her character repeatedly mention her fetish for them in Sex & the City. Certainly, when one thinks of SJP the first product that comes to mind is Manolo, rather than the hair dye she advertises on prime-time television. Which brings me to the matter of celebrity, and particularly our relationship with it.

Celebrity, in its purest form, refers to one who is famous for being famous. And this is a mistake that a lot of advertising folk make when they employ some random soul at whom the camera has directed its gaze, no matter how fleetingly. In order for such a campaign to work, the celebrity in question has to be an aspirational figure to the target market in question. They are, in every sense, the modern gods, the gilded individuals placed on high which us lesser mortals can only view from afar. We have become accustomed to our place in the scheme of things, which is largely that of hanging around waiting to pick up whatever scraps may fall from the table - hence the fact a magazine whose cover promises details of celebrity scandal will outsell a rival publication punting an authorized interview with the same star. The reason behind this is simple: in an increasingly secular age we all want a backstage pass, we want something that puts us closer to the celebrity than the rank and file. Johnny Depp smokes Marlboro, so we do, too, thereby, at least in our minds, strengthening the connection between ourselves and the figures we idealize.

Which brings us to the double-bind in which celebrity endorsements are concerned: while we want the products we buy to say something about ourselves, our status in society, our ideological allegiances; we are similarly mistrustful of those items for which we know the individual concerned has been paid a shipload of loot to shill for. As such, in many cases, the endorsement turns out to be a costly exercise in visibility to negligible product benefit. 'Do as I say and not as I do' being the general message. It's not a particularly effective strategy when applied to children and even less so when attempted on sophisticated, media-savvy audiences. It is for this reason that sports stars have of recent times eclipsed most every other branch of the fame tree when it comes to endorsements: they use what they advertise in their professional capacity, in their primary income generator, ergo it must be good. If Agassi uses Head, sure he's being paid to do so, but he certainly wouldn't be using it if he thought it an inferior product. Secondary endorsements are not often as fortunate. One has to feel for the watchmaker that paid a hefty toll to hitch their wagon to Anna Kournikova's none-too-lustrous star. Here we had a well-respected timepiece linked to a person who was nice to look at, but utterly useless when charged with the performance of her professional task. They might just as well have sub-titled the advert: Pretty, but Useless. Which is probably not the message they intended.

In all fairness, at the time of the endorsement Kournikova was a promising rising star rather than a falling one. Such is the peril of celebrity endorsement. People are pretty much the most volatile commodity one can invest in. The best possible route is to have a celebrity use your product completely of their own volition. Take, for example, the Audi convertible: a solid enough car to be sure, gets you from A to B in a modicum of style, but still hardly the sort of automotive revelation one throws tickertape parades in the high street to celebrate. The year before the late Princess Diana bought one they sold just north of five hundred in the UK. The following year sales figures were nipping at the heels of the ten thousand mark. Fantastic stuff for Audi, didn't cost them a bean, made them enough to stuff a bag with. Had Audi hired her to make commercials for them, the leaping figures wouldn't have been nearly so enthusiastic.

Is there a lesson in this? Yes, but it's probably not one you want to hear: You can try and spend a product to glory, but what comes free is often worth so much more.

This article appears courtesy of foresight magazine, the Alexander Forbes Risk Services contract title published by New Media.