Cheryl and me

When the marketing director, Val (of the male sort) asked me to work on a pitch for a new shampoo, the splendid Cheryl Cole sprung to mind.

Our Cheryl has made being Northern hip. Granted, there are lots of famous Northerners, but none as glamorous as Cheryl.  She is quite fabulous – if a little on the skinny side for my liking – and has marvellous teeth. I’d use her for a toothpaste ad too, if the opportunity popped up.

It’s a shame most other Geordie’s aren’t like her, because if there were more Cheryls up North, Newcastle would become a hot spot tourist destination. (I’m allowed to say things like this because I’m Northern).

Anyway, the best thing about Cheryl is her hair.

She has hair that makes me go all tingly. I’ve always had a soft spot for women with long soft hair that bounces around their head in slow motion. I’ve never dated anyone with hair like that. The Peacock wife had long hair but it hung in curtain like drapes and when she tried to do that hair tossing that women with long hair like to do, it just clung to the sides of her head like damp seaweed. A shame really, because I’ve always liked a good bit of hair flicking, all soft focus and Farah Fawcett 1976.

So I suggested Cheryl Cole.

Val rolled his eyes and flicked open a copy of Elle he just happened to be carrying in his man-handbag.  Cheryl smiled back at me, all glossy chocolaty locks and lovely teeth.  Apparently she’d already been snapped up by a rival shampoo brand. “Where,” said Val, “have you been?”

“Clearly not flicking through Elle,” I said.

I couldn’t think of any other Geordie who’d hit the spot so I left it to the PR team to find the model and decided instead to concentrate on the script.

Apparently all women want bouncy hair, and lots of it. It has to be manageable, controllable and always shiny and well brushed, like a well groomed hound. The average women spends hundreds of pounds on hair care products each year and a bad hair day can drive a woman to the brink of suicide. But then women are naturally a little mad.

I had a friend at university who was fairly successful at seducing luscious looking girls. (I was fairly unsuccessful at seducing full stop, but that’s another story).

He’d often spend Sunday mornings sharing intimate tales of his latest liaisons, many of which made my heart almost stop with jealousy. My favourite was how Linda would wrap her waist length hair six times around his (and I say this quietly) manhood. Whether this was true or not, I don’t know, but the very thought was enough to bring on a spontaneous orgasm (which granted, when one is 19, is not difficult). Ever since then, I’ve harboured an interest in women with lovely flicky locks.

I wondered (albeit briefly) whether an advertisement where a woman wrapped her hair around a phallus shaped object would work. A bit like those old Cadbury flake ads, if truth be told, but apparently women don’t go for that sort of thing.

“The market is female,” groaned Val when I made what was clearly yet another duff suggestion. “How many blokes do you know who buy shampoo for their wives?”

I haven’t got very far with the campaign. I wonder what happened to Linda.