What is it about engagement adverts that make them a festival of douchebaggery? Is it the saccharine tone, the crass assumptions they make about gendered behaviour, or just the shite notion that a woman (and ONLY a woman) needs a big, unethical sparkler on her finger to show she’s not a lonely cunt but a proper functioning adult? Whichever it is, these adverts are making the proverbial spinster eaten by Alsatians scenario seem pretty bloody appealing.
…because you’re a woman, and any kind of ring-shaped thing will do.
…because you’re a woman who doesn’t know her own mind
…so why doesn’t she LOOK that happy? Oh, because you’re an emotionally abusive asshole who made her cry on Christmas day.
…a future in which Mr.Smith’s husband spends all his time busting his ass in his shitty boring yuppy job while Mrs.Smith becomes increasingly bored, lonely, and hangry (angry and horny), eventually divorcing him for half his assets and marrying a sensitive teacher who works in an underprivileged city school helping the kids discover their dreams, while in his spare time going down on her like a total boss.
Hey, stereotypical macho American everyman. Whatup bro? Listen, we know you don’t even want to marry her that much. Hell, she’s stopped fucking you on the regular or laughing at your jokes and the controlling bitch doesn’t like you doing poker night with the girls, in fact, she’s pretty much a fucking nightmare, right? But hang on, here’s a solution: why don’t you gain some much needed freedom from your pain in the ass high maintenance wench of a girlfriend by LEGALLY COMMITTING TO HER FOREVER?
…because you’re a woman and are therefore in a constant, simultaneously anxious and high maintenance state of frenzied anticipation. While wearing fishnets, obvs.
Yay, feminism. Why not get engaged, but to YOURSELF? My right hand is giving you the finger right now, you patronising tosspot. Wait a second…oh, look….SO IS MY LEFT HAND.
I mean, I’d be proud too were I marrying the only sentient ventriloquist’s dummy in America
…because she’s a woman and she’s just so overcome with the emotion of it all (FYI, this facial expression is totally the one I’ve been practicing as my ‘what, little old me?’ Oscar nomination announcement face).
…because you’re a woman, and nothing makes you wetter than a rock in a velvet box with a massive markup.
…after I vomit all down my front from the sickly sentimentality of it all. After the buzz retreats, to be replaced only by a kind of despondent emptiness. After the first time we fuck and you can’t get it up. After the divorce. After the CSA cheques stop coming. After the trip to the pawn shop…
…because you’re a woman and you’re going to end up as SOMEBODY’S property so it might as well be this guy