Taming the shame: Policing excretions and body fluids in advertisements for hygiene products

Data collection and analysis

Qualitative content analysis was performed on adverts for products designed to deal with materials discharged by the body (skin and scalp oil, dandruff, sweat, saliva, urine, faeces, menstrual blood, semen and mucus) that were published in the Israeli Hebrew-language print media between 2005 and 2010. The sample was drawn from the website of the Israeli Association of Advertising Agencies (www.pirsum.org.il.), ¹ and consisted of 168 adverts: 37 for soap or body wash; 36 for tampons, sanitary pads or panty liners; 26 for shampoo or conditioner; 24 for toilet paper and wet wipes; 18 for deodorant; 16 for toothpaste or toothbrushes; nine for condoms; and two for adult incontinence pads.

Since the adverts employ both verbal and visual messages, the two aspects were examined by means of semiotic analysis, as proposed by Barthes (1972[1957]) and developed by Berger (1998). Our aim was to examine the texts in order to learn about the covert and connotative messages, and to locate ideological manifestations within the decorative obviousness (Barthes, 1972[1957]) by deconstructing the relations between the two complementing facets of the advertising sign: the visual and verbal components, and their hidden signifieds. Following a pilot study conducted on five random adverts, 15 categories were defined for the analysis. The advertisements were analysed separately by each of the researchers and any discrepancies were settled by mutual agreement. Although the adverts were created by different agencies, promoted a variety of products and in some cases targeted specific audiences, several common themes were found to characterise the sample in toto. The next sections will highlight some of the most common and significant themes.

Too shameful to mention

Most of the adverts almost totally ignored the original purpose of the product, either for reasons of taboo – their target is too shameful to be explicitly mentioned – or because it was a familiar product with a well-known function. Adverts for products presumably carrying negative connotations (e.g. deodorant, toilet paper, tampons) were found to conceal the function of the product and temper the message by means of visual negation or verbal euphemisation. No such obvious effort at concealment in view of associated shame was identified in adverts for products that decidedly do not have a negative connotation (e.g. soap, shampoo, toothpaste).

This distinction was particularly apparent in adverts for toilet paper, which stress its pampering function without any reference to the actual purpose of the product, which is obviously mortifyingly embarrassing. According to the message conveyed, the product is meant only to provide pleasure, to be soothing or to grant a sense of love and warmth. This idea was embodied in all the adverts for toilet paper by the use of words such as ‘the epitome of softness’, ² ‘as soft as can be’, ‘gentle’, ‘pampering’ and ‘love’. Indeed, it is impossible to discern anything about the original use of the product from the adverts. By way of example, one advertisement shows a door left ajar through which the viewer can glimpse a toilet with the lid down. In other words, the action for which the product is intended is concealed. In a similar vein, adverts for toilet paper never show human beings. Instead, they are populated, for example, by puppies, hinting at the softness of the paper while avoiding any message that might be problematic.

Sweat is another discharge perceived as waste (Thompson, 1979). Again, the word itself is not invoked, since the odour arising from the accumulation of perspiration on the skin symbolises a breach of society’s norms, and thereby threatens the social order (Corbin, 1986; Low, 2006). Individuals are required to apply artificial scents designed to mask the stigmatising odour and give the impression that the perfumed body is essentially odourless (Classen et al., 1994). Hence, the adverts promote deodorants aimed at ‘preventing unwanted body odour’: the product is intended to deal with the culturally constructed aspect of the smell, not with the secretion itself. The adverts repeatedly promise ‘maximum protection’, with no mention of what the product protects from, as if sweat and its accompanying odour constitute a mortifying taboo. The deodorant provides ‘a refreshing scent’, so that even if there is no explicit reference to sweating, it is clear that this it is not supposed to happen.

Unlike faeces and sweat, which are shameful, mucus has no ostensible negative symbolic connotation, and therefore can be expressly represented. Thus, adverts for tissues may contain images of a person sneezing and wiping their nose. A runny nose, saliva, viruses and bacteria are all referred to explicitly without any apprehension (e.g. ‘fluid from a runny nose or spatter from a cough spray into the tissue’). In short, a distinction is made between discharges that are considered grime or waste and arouse repulsion and shame, and therefore are not to be referred to, and those constructed as socially acceptable, whose explicit mention can be tolerated in order to serve as a tool for promoting hygiene products.

Hedonism and the cult of the body

In many adverts, the original function of the product (to cleanse for reasons of hygiene) is totally omitted, or is of secondary importance at best. It is replaced by new functions that come under the heading of self-indulgent hedonism. This was found to be true for all the categories of products in the sample, indicating that the addition of functions promoting the cult of the body is a common marketing strategy (Featherstone, 1982). In most of the adverts, the product’s original purpose is conspicuous by its absence, whether because it has become familiar already and been naturalised, or for reasons of taboo – a subject that is not meant to be mentioned or dealt with in the public arena. In other words, body adulation may be a covert tactic to overcome the culturally constructed shame ascribed to its excretions, and to avert consumers’ attention away from their potentially shaming connotations.

Adverts define self-indulgence as the ultimate goal, using phrases such as ‘fun’, ‘pleasure for the senses, delight for the skin’ (soap), ‘the freshening effect’ (deodorant), ‘a beautiful glowing appearance’ (deodorant), ‘keeps your skin soft and gentle’ (soap), ‘enjoy the moment, every moment’ (tampons) or ‘intensify the pleasure’ (condoms). Thus the primary (and probably sole) function of the product is to enhance the external appearance and increase the pleasure of the consumer, not to combat excretions or their by-products. In using this strategy, advertisers have moved from an emphasis on concealing excretions and secretions to an interest solely in pampering the body with, for example, ‘a sense of caressing softness’ (wet wipes).

Furthermore, the act of dealing with body fluids is framed as a major event in a person’s life. Presumably, it can now be an experience that enhances one’s quality of life, rather than a routine activity or mundane duty. Use of the product is presented as emotionally meaningful and a boon to the ‘spirit’, with the aid of appeals such as: ‘Perfect softness for the body, a perfect experience for the spirit’ (soap), ‘Choose what makes you feel good’ (condoms), ‘The new collection of condoms … is more exciting, more surprising’.

In view of the naturalisation of cleaning processes (Barthes, 1972[1957]) and the treatment of body fluids, advertisers are obliged to employ new, persuasive techniques in order to convince consumers to purchase their products. As a result, hygiene appears to have been replaced by the novel need of self-indulgence. Thus, an additional theme is added to the myth constantly being forged by hedonistic slogans: consumers need not only to ensure their physical attractiveness, but also to feel good. For example, in one toilet paper advert, the product is used to shape a double bed. The implication of the allusion to sex is unmistakeable: toilet paper is intended to afford pleasure and intimate love; there is no mention of its hygienic function.

Such adverts provide further evidence of the claim that consumerism creates hedonism based on fantasy and self-delusions regarding the pleasurable experiences that products are supposedly capable of generating. The goal of contemporary consumer behaviour is sensual or emotional gratification, rather than the satisfaction of real needs (Campbell, 1994).

Many adverts distinguish between one’s body and one’s sense of selfhood by means of apotheosis of the body to the level of an object of adoration, a typical feature of the consumer age (Orbach, 2009). In the majority of adverts, a distinction is made between the potentially shameful body and the self, or an unnatural dissociation of one organ from the rest of the body. The message conveyed is that the consumer should care for and pamper their bodies as if they were separate entities. ‘Isn’t it time you gave it a little love?’ asks one advert for soap, implying that it is the consumers’ duty to bestow love on their bodies. An advert for deodorant includes the injunction, ‘Let your body talk’, as if it were a distinct entity and an advert for soap similarly issues the command to ‘Listen to your body’. A shampoo advert asks: ‘What kind of nourishment does your hair need?’ and offers a selection of delicacies to choose from (sunflowers, peaches, wheat). Thus, even one’s hair is presented as a dissociated body part that must be nourished by a means other than the human digestive system, as if it existed independently of the rest of the body. hence the body is framed as a ‘god’ that must be appeased and adulated and, according to the ethics of calculating hedonism (Turner, 2008), requires that sacrifices be offered up to it.

Evoking emotions

Advertisements for hygiene products position the body within the context of beliefs about uncleanness, warn against body odours that are offensive to others, and remind the consumer of the fear of social rejection and inability to achieve intimacy (Kane, 1997). They convey the message that the product performs a social function by avoiding shameful stigma, and thus its very use is an act of purification that translates into the benefit of establishing or strengthening interpersonal relations. In addition, the contrary is implied: people who do not regularly take proper care of their bodies and make frequent use of the product risk losing their social status, and being viewed as deviant and suspect (Kosut, 2010). In addition, the products themselves are endowed with an emotional character, and the capability of promoting emotional experiences as part of the romanticisation of commodities and the commodification of romance (Illouz, 1997). For example, an advert for wet wipes shows a grinning baby with a lipstick mark on his cheek, obviously from a kiss, hinting at maternal love. Similarly, a deodorant advert presents a naked couple embracing, and advertisements for feminine hygiene products play on the idea of strengthening mother–daughter bonds (e.g. ‘Pamper your daughter with panties’ offered as a free gift with the purchase of sanitary pads) or advancing romantic liaisons (‘I went swimming, I lay in the sun … and a cute guy even started chatting me up’). Making use of the typical signs of fetishism (Jhally, 1987), the products are said to help create or bolster social ties in an era when interpersonal relations are fragile, and trust in existing relationships is declining (Bauman, 2003).

Adverts for toothpaste are an exception to this rule, for they invoke weighty arguments (e.g. ‘maintains the hygiene of your mouth’; ‘total protection against tooth and gum problems’), some of which are supposedly supported by research findings or authoritative experts (‘recommended by dentists’). Nevertheless, here social functions are attributed also to the product by means of claims such as ‘for whiter teeth which everyone will admire’. Whereas adverts for other products tend to overlay the message with a ‘protective layer’ designed to conceal the instrumental purpose of the product, those for toothpaste generally make no attempt to hide the product’s health function.

‘The healing properties of nature’

The Victorian age was characterised by two contrasting corporeal ideologies: romanticisation and negation of the body. Romantic thinkers called for the stripping away of the artificial trappings of civilisation and a return to the primordial state of the ‘noble savage’ who is one with nature (Elias, 2000[1939]). Conversely, negation of the unclean physical body and concealment of its functions also reached its height in this era as part of the ‘shame culture’ (Sivulka, 2007: 213), which required that certain bodily functions be kept hidden from view (Praeger, 2007). The same two opposing ideologies can be found today in advertisements for hygiene products: the avoidance of explicit terms or use of euphemism, and the return to the purity of nature, to a paradise lost.

The return to nature seems ironic in the contemporary age, when the very products advertised would not have been possible, were it not for scientific and technological advances. The adverts tend to ignore the artificial basis of the products, forging a myth which becomes a received, unquestioned truth through endless repetition (Levi-Strauss, 1987). Employing a delusive strategy, the product is assigned supposedly natural qualities, thus enhancing it and guaranteeing healing for the body and soul. Romanticism is now enlisted to promote the ecological spirit that has typified adverts in recent decades, with nature and its benefits becoming part of the greenwash discourse, which conceals the immanent damage of various industries (Aupers et al., 2012; Corbett, 2002). After training us to manage our body fluids with the help of industrialised products, advertisers seek to make us forget their artificial source by stressing what is said to be their natural properties. Thus, we deal with excretions by means of synthetic products which disguise themselves as natural, and consequently claim to be assisting in our return to the pristine purity of nature. The return to nature is manifested in references to ‘high-quality natural ingredients’ (soap), said to contain wondrous attributes that are advantageous to the body or hair. Such ingredients include ‘coconut’ (cosmetic wipes), ‘green tea’, ‘bamboo concentrate’ and ‘oatmeal known for its dermatological properties’ (soap). Some of the descriptions of ingredients are merely meaningless phrases, such as ‘pearl particles’ (deodorant) or the tautological ‘botanical concentrates from plants’.

An advert for sanitary pads similarly states, ‘You are invited to enjoy double-sided protection with the addition of chamomile concentrates’, although what connection the plant could have to the function of the product is unclear. Nonetheless, even fetishistic slogans such as ‘The appearance of strength, just like nature intended’ (shampoo) sound not only feasible, but even logical, as if nature had desires and intentions. The rhetoric of nature, together with its personification (i.e. attributing intent to it) enhances the product’s image of quality and effectiveness. Nature is seen to contain elements whose very ‘naturalness’ is sufficient proof of their effectiveness.

Advertisers’ attempts to deal with aspects of the body considered unclean, taboo, shameful or inferior to the mind coincide with the central cultural principle of the binary opposition between culture/mind/logic and nature/body/emotion. Capitalism and consumerism make it necessary to defuse the tension between the products of society and technological progress, on the one hand, and nature, on the other. Generally, this is achieved by relating to bodily functions in a ‘clean’, civilised fashion, as civilisation is considered superior to nature. However, in the present context, the covert struggle between civilisation and nature leads to an emphasis on the ‘return to nature’ to tame and manage the body, indicating the superiority of nature.

‘For healthy looking skin’: when the beauty of nature meets science

In what seems to be a confounding paradox, science is not only enlisted as proof of the quality and effectiveness of a product, but it is mobilised to make the return to nature or greenwashing feasible. Two kinds of science predominate: the spectre of alchemy and contemporary medicine. A considerable proportion of adverts claim that a material with certain chemical or physical properties (e.g. silk, bamboo, yogurt) can be magically transformed into another material (e.g. soap, shampoo). One advert proclaims that a soap performs the ‘artistry of cashmere’, while others invite the consumer to ‘discover the secret of the flexibility of bamboo [which] makes the skin stronger and firmer’ or to enjoy ‘therapeutic milk shampoo – the wonders of goat’s milk’. In a mysterious and enigmatic fashion – definitely not a scientific miracle – the attributes of some materials are transubstantiated. Thus, cashmere wool or goat’s milk can become cosmetic ingredients: ‘Like chameleons, they mirror and mimic nature’s properties’ (Aupers et al., 2012: 12). In an advert for pads they are called ‘cotton’, due to their ‘cotton soft effect [sic]’ made by ‘natural cotton essences’. Another (shampoo) advert claims that it bestows ‘a strong look, just like nature intended’. As noted earlier, the ‘natural’ rhetoric is self-sufficient, as if its very mention justifies all and needs no further evidence.

Alongside the renaissance of medieval alchemy is the use of modern medicine, with the appeal to the consumer disguised as a scientific message: for example, ‘the beauty of nature meeting science’ (shampoo). Adverts for dental and oral products in particular often appear to have come straight out of medical manuals, suffused with an aura of gravity and a respect for professional expertise. It is hard to resist the messages that they convey, since they come from the highest authority: medical experts. Phrases such as ‘recommended by dentists’ or ‘designed by a gynecologist’ (tampon) constitute a stamp of authority which cannot be refuted by consumers lacking in knowledge of these fields. In some cases, the product is even presented as if it were a medical preparation: for example, ‘Doctors: the best medicine is prevention’ (wet wipes).

It is not far to go from such statements to the pseudo-scientific claims that are a common advertising tactic (Featherstone, 1982; Wolf, 1991). Adverts frequently employ phrases that sound scientific, but whose actual meaning the average consumer cannot be expected to understand and which are fatuous. The adverts in the sample used terms such as: ‘Pro-vitamin B5’ (shampoo); ‘Kamilotract’ (shampoo); ‘lactic acid with a pH level’ (soap); and ‘anti-ageing complex’ (cosmetic wipes), feeding into the belief that physical ageing is not inevitable. Quite a few adverts make questionable promises of this sort, including: ‘renews skin cells’ (soap); ‘kills 99.9% of viruses’ (wet wipes); or ‘aids circulation’ (shampoo). Such claims are repeated so often that they come to be accepted as unquestioned truths. To earn the consumer’s trust even more, adverts frequently stress that the claims have been ‘proven scientifically’ and make reference to anonymous ‘laboratories’. In addition, revolutionary technology and hi-tech innovation may be called upon to guarantee that the product is superior to its competitors. Adverts avow, for example, that with the purchase of a certain toothbrush, ‘hi-tech lands in your bathroom’, that a deodorant contains ‘revolutionary capsules’, and that a given brand of tampon is ‘the next generation’ or was created with the help of ‘body shaping technology’.

The commonly employed phrase ‘healthy look’ or ‘look of healthy skin’ implodes two semantic fields into a problematic conceptualisation. Health is compacted with appearance on the understanding that one’s state of health actually may have external indicators. However, here it is said to be indicated solely by denotators on the skin or hair. By linking their appearance (‘radiant’, ‘fresh’) with good health, the adverts lead consumers to the fallacious conclusion that cosmetic applications can enhance health, or even that health is denoted by cosmetic features per se. In other words, according to advertisements, health is skin deep. Aesthetic standards, which are a product of cultural conceptualisation, are equated with medical standards, which are supposed to be based on scientific criteria derived from rigorous empirical research. Advertisers thereby enlist the objectivity of science and medicine to promote purely cosmetic products. Consequently, what the adverts promise is not actually health, but the illusion of health. Health is skin deep.

Lowering the shame threshold and enhancing self-indulgence

The current study is situated on the juncture between persuasive strategies aimed at promoting purchase of a product, and perception of the human body as a cultural entity undergoing constant social construction. Both these aspects come to bear here regarding issues of shame, concealment and taboo in the context of (un)cleanness and hygiene. As mentioned previously, in spite of accumulating critical knowledge about the advertising apparatus, the present study sheds light on the rather obscure field of products for body fluids management. One of its main contributions is to illustrate how the dilemma inherent in the objectification of a taboo is dealt with, especially when the trajectory of shaming practices has been shifting recently.

Starting in infancy, individuals acquire habits for caring for their bodies that ultimately become second nature. Those routines, which are justified for reasons of health and hygiene, are instilled by socialising agents. However, the physical body is charged also with symbolic meanings, some of which are negative and shameful, and therefore require constant attention and effort. In view of this situation, along with the assumption that the mass media and especially the advertising industry also educate the public as to how to tame the body in order to avoid shame, this study has examined how advertisements serve as a socialisation agent for hygiene, focusing on the management of excretions and body fluids. This issue is of particular interest because these substances are defined as inherently unclean, and therefore the subject of social taboos: they are to be hidden and kept within the private space. Yet, as a cultural instrument working in the public space, advertising reifies these substances: the marketing of products aimed at alleviating the shame associated with body fluids shifts what is meant to take place behind the scenes to centre stage.

Advertisements concerned with bodily discharges, even if they are not explicitly named, constitute an implicit indicator of the postmodern era. As noted previously, in the modern age the shame threshold was substantially raised, with ‘natural’ functions being seen as ‘bestial’ and consequently demanding vigilant management in order to avoid shame and loss of social prestige. Modern homo clausus was obliged to ensure that the emission of matter from the body was kept hidden away from the realm of social life. This requirement led to a dichotomy between frontstage and backstage (Goffman, 1959). In recent decades, the shame threshold has been lowered (Binkley, 2009). Today, dealing intensively with the body goes hand-in-hand with implosion of the distinction between the private backstage and the public frontstage, as can be seen in reality shows promoting body modification (Liran-Alper and Kama, 2007; Kosut, 2010). This growing trend is an indication of the slackening of previous considerations of modesty and privacy. We are now witnessing a lessening – not an unmitigated disappearance – in the restrictions and prescriptions that required the individual to perform certain corporeal functions behind closed doors. Nevertheless, advertisements are not merely a reflection of reduced shame; their primary focus is to promote self-expression and empower the individual. Hygiene products are part of the hedonistic trend that typifies current society. As a result, they are meant to enhance the body and emancipate the spirit, with only a modicum of attention being paid to their practical purpose (i.e. cleanliness and hygiene). In other words, shame per se is no longer of particular interest. This conclusion is surely tentative, and must be corroborated by further studies.

Our basic assumption derives from a conceptualisation of advertising as both a mirror and a perpetuator of dominant social values. Not only does it serve as a gauge of cultural attitudes, it also cultivates and promotes them, turning them into received truths. The huge success of the capitalist machine does not lie solely in making the wheels of industry turn; it is manifested even more sharply in its ability to frame products as items which consumers are obligated to purchase in order to be respectable members of society. The myth perpetuated incessantly engenders a social reality in which the individual has no authentic freedom of choice. Therefore, the analysis presented in this article contributes to our understanding of the manner in which human beings perceive themselves and the reality in which they live, as well the way in which advertising messages reflect cultural perceptions of corporeality.

Advertisements for products meant to solve the problems stemming from excretions and secretions regard such discharges as the objects of strict taming routines. Under the guise of hygiene, health and management of self-image, along with the catch-all slogan of ‘body care’, adverts seek to instill consumer habits via rigid policing. In their attempt to deal in a supposedly open and enlightened manner with bodily functions associated with taboos that endanger both personal health and society, advertisers are compelled to perform dexterous juggling acts. The signs of fetishism revealed by this study may be part of the trend to avoid dealing explicitly with body fluids, which would be considered shameful. As advertisements are public by definition, promoting products relating to matters that should be kept private and discreet also demands that the tension between the private and public spheres be nullified. Indeed, the adverts walk a fine line between public and private, body and mind, nature and civilisation. Two approaches to solving the problems inherent in adverts for hygiene products were found here. The first is to avoid the use of explicit words or to employ euphemisms, along with visual negation of the excretions or secretions themselves and generally the organs responsible for them. The second is to invoke a return to primordial nature, referencing nature as a boon to civilised humankind.

Advertisers often utilise the tactic of arousing negative emotions (shame, fear, anger) in order to encourage consumers to purchase a product meant to relieve this unpleasant state. However, this study found that in the broad context of unpleasantness examined here (shame and avoidance of taboos), a totally different approach is adopted almost universally. In the large majority of adverts, shame does not appear to be the incentive (see also Binkley, 2009). Although undoubtedly the notions of shame and concealment are implied, they have been fully integrated and naturalised. Neither do the adverts call on the social prescription to manage excretions and secretions as part of the modern project of civilisation through control of one’s orifices. Cleanliness and hygiene invariably remain on the fringes of the advertising messages, with no express mention made of the grime and filth associated with body fluids. This is not due to the shame or stigma attached to them, but because the direct overt purpose of the products has changed. With the body placed on a pedestal, the main motive for purchasing these items is now to care for and enhance it. The individual appears to have become detached from their physical body, as if it were a separate entity worthy of apotheosis and necessitating adulation. We are now compelled to pamper our body with the aid of a variety of care products that are gentle, aromatic and caressing. Above all, we are commanded to give it our unconditional love. In this context, the return to nature and use of its resources to apply some sort of natural essence to the civilisation and cultivation of the body is aimed at restoring its natural balance, a feature that has been neglected as a result of our intense lifestyle.

A battle is waged between nature and civilisation; the common theme of a return to nature in order to police the body seems to indicate that nature has achieved the upper hand. Yet all this takes place in the context of products made possible by advanced technology. Thus, we arrive at an interesting paradox: with the aid of synthetic industrialised products, one can supposedly return to an imagined primeval state. Furthermore, as apparently nature can be acquired by monetary means, consumers can resume their natural condition by investing in products aimed at covering and hiding the natural functions of the body. What is more, the theme of a return to nature complements the theme of hedonism: nature is framed as an idyllic place where people can enjoy ‘the good life’ and their dreams come true.

Generally speaking, the adverts apotheosise the self and glorify the body. Hygiene products constitute one component of a ceaseless hedonistic cultivation: therefore, their shameful associations are forsaken since their sole aim is to celebrate the body. The care that one lavishes on one’s body is not meant merely to cleanse it and disguise odours and excretions; its primary aim is to offer up a self-bestowed gift as part of the cult of the body. Although ours is a non-religious, rational era that views taboos to be ‘primitive’, they are not totally absent from our psyche. Consequently, in advertising for products whose function is regarded as still somewhat taboo, there is conflict between its reification and simultaneous negation. At any rate, whether due to the taboos associated with certain bodily functions that prevent open discussion of their management because their policing has become routinised, or because advertisers are always looking for innovative approaches, hygiene activities have become the subject of alternative discourses of self-indulgence, pampering, freedom, quality of life, spiritual balance and enhancement of the inner self. This development goes hand-in-hand with today’s consumer trends, shaped by the supreme importance attributed to these values in contemporary society, where individuals are encouraged to coddle themselves. Since the advertising industry feeds on prevalent perceptions, the same values are promoted in adverts.

Nevertheless, in light of the tension between nature and civilisation, certain attempts to arouse the negative emotion of fear also were found. Evoking fear of an external enemy, such as viruses and pollutants, is an effective rhetorical tool. Yet the adverts warn that it is not only the physical self that is under constant threat, but the social self as well, which must guard against the stigma resulting from an unacceptable odour or deviant appearance.

Despite the negative connotation of the concept of taboo in contemporary society, where it is regarded as a feature of ‘primitive’ civilisations, this study reveals that certain subjects continue to be considered taboo in a rational, secular and scientific age. Consequently, the advertisement of products that deal with taboos generates an absurd situation in which the message must be both conveyed and obscured at the same time.

The findings of this study might seem to disparage the image of the rational consumer, creating the impression that the target audience of advertisements is gullible. Is this in fact the case? Reception studies comparing men and women and different age groups are warranted to examine more thoroughly the ability of such adverts to naturalise the body perceptions that they project. In addition, cross-cultural studies are needed to determine whether the advertising strategies identified here are unique to Israel, or are indications of a more widespread phenomenon.