When I worked in advertising, it was a big part of my job to be invisible.
Like, in this ad for the 2013 VMA’s:
I was “here” (and by “here,” I mean I was on a Hollywood soundstage trying to pass as a NYC street). Still, I wasn’t really “here” because I’m nowhere in the ad. I was behind the monitor, a few feet away from the tiger and from Katy.
I was also here, back in 2015 when I worked on this ad for the Roast of Justin Bieber:
On this one, I was supposed to be behind the monitor, being professional and leaving Justin alone, but instead, I pushed myself into this photo opp so I could prove to the people who follow me on Instagram I was nailing life (PS. I was not nailing life.)
To be clear! My invisibility in advertising wasn’t anyone’s “fault.” The terms of my employment were always clear. As a creative director in the ad biz, I was responsible for every facet of production right up until it was time to roll the camera. Then, the person whose body had been deemed attractive enough or famous enough to step out into light, would perform the script (or take their shirt off) to bring the sales pitch “home.” I wasn’t there to be “the talent.” I was there in support of the talent. That’s what the money was for.
[This clip is gonna keep showing up in this Substack I’m realizing.]
Ever since I was a little girl, I knew deep down my body was born to be out of frame because I never saw anyone that looked anything like me in frame. Except maybe, in the 1980’s, these people?
Oh! And also, these people in the 2010’s!
Still, these were TV shows that used fat as a punchline. It’s rare to see folks with bodies like these in ads unless they’re being used as cautionary tales — a “before” to a triumphant “after.” In our culture, nothing about fat is aspirational, and if advertising’s not aspirational, it can’t work.
So, I accepted my fate.
I worked on getting as close as I could to the sparkle of pop culture that always fascinated me — and I got pretty close! For a long time, this was just fine for me. I was proud to mine the depths of my creativity and sell it to hot, famous people! I got such a thrill from it. I was famous by association and barely noticed how all those years of me working in a business that didn’t value bodies like mine was killing me, because I’d internalized the message my body was worthless — and then, treated myself accordingly. WHOOPS!?
For the last six years, since leaving the ad business to heal my body and mind, I’ve worked hard to try to forge a relationship with myself that goes beyond the value capitalism told me about myself. I can finally see that even though my body will never inspire people to buy moisturizer or cars or fast food — it’s still worth quite a lot.
One way I’ve gotten better is by writing.
Marking all these thoughts down helped me clarify what the fuck actually happened and sometimes, to even laugh about it?
I wrote so much, and things began to get so so clear, I decided to write a book — and my fine editor, Vivian Lee, at Little, Brown, decided to publish it. (I’m still pinching myself.)
Sure, my book won’t be a movie (yet?) or a commercial or a music video and so maybe my analogy is flawed? I mean, I’m talking about old-timey paper. I’m talking about ink printed on a page. I’m not talking slow motion, straight to camera, celebrity shills.
Still, I keep returning to how, inside my book, I will finally get to exist in “the frame” of my own story for the first time in my life. I won’t have to work to create something from the deepest parts of myself and then, hand it over to someone more conventionally attractive than me to sell it.
This process of book publishing is a long one, and I have a lot more to do before it will be a book you can buy in stores. So, as this all unfolds, Don’t Buy What I’m Selling, the newsletter, won’t just be a place where I talk about ads, it will also be a place where I talk about writing a fucking book, because I am writing a fucking book that features me, in all my unsellable glory.
Even though, I can’t lie, when the time comes — I really hope you buy it.
xo,
Lu
PS. Not to be weird, but just felt like I should remind you — your body is worth a lot too. Even if you don’t see it online or on TV or in the movies. Even if you don’t see it anywhere but in the mirror.
slay
You are so badass Lu!!!