I just started watching the Mad Men series via the Wii and Netflix. I’d tried watching it when it first aired. But I couldn’t stomach it. It was just too depressing. I had believed in the “Golden Age of Advertising.” You could be creative and make lots of money! But by 1980 that era had passed. We’d entered the age of feminism, and unlike Peg, it didn’t occur to me what a lethal combination it was to be both a young woman and a lousy secretary!
I had the nerve, as I sat behind my selectric, of telling one of the older print rep guys that my name was not “honey.” I had the silly nerve to suggest to the alcoholic production chief process improvements after only a year of typing.
In Mad Men, we see the emptiness of the early ’60’s zeitgeist, through a glass darkly. These characters are as plastic and fantastic and self-serving as a slick ad. Even though not everyone in the early ’60’s—even in advertising—was a racist, misogynist, bigot, chain-smoking sex and alcohol addict. Unlike the reviewer, I think this show is filmed, acted and directed brilliantly. The characters walk stiffly like headless mannequins through their blank lives, consumed with image over substance.
When I was a little girl, my older sister’s Barbie had heavy blue-lidded eyes and a big bald spot on the top of her skull when you took out out her pony tail. She would make out with the Lone Ranger. I couldn’t abide by this so I lynched her over the upstairs railing. I still remember feeling remorse for that. I knew I was being “bad” …But now I am glad I did.