• by Larry Dobrow , Featured Columnist, January 22, 2016

Readers of this column might remember the events that transpired when I was last left alone with the kids. Were there violations of municipal sovereignty? Perhaps. Did the National Wildlife Federation get involved? I suppose that depends on your definition of “involved.” But once you look past the sinkholes and what the town newspaper later described as a “plume of syrup,” the facts remain: My wife returned to find three out of three human beings alive, fed and more or less clean. Three out of three - that’s a batting average of 1.000. That’s Cooperstown.

I found myself in similar circumstances this week and, like last time, there was good and bad in equal measure. The good: On my watch, the one-year-old learned a brand new word, “clock.” The bad: He can’t quite articulate the ‘L’… which, of course, didn’t stop him from trumpeting the new addition to his vocabulary to every person he encountered. The nice lady at day care suggested that I keep him away from clocks, especially oversized ones, until he masters his consonant combinations. I imagine I am not the first parent to have received such a directive.

But to answer the obvious question: Yes, I enjoyed the dickens out of my brief return to lowbrow livin’, and I think the kids did as well (though it’s worth noting their delight when my wife walked through the door just before). A great majority of life is serious; when you encounter a situation that’s innocuously stupid, don’t overthink it. Just laugh or roll your eyes or decline to engage, and go about your business.

This is why I’ve mostly been OK with Axe’s marketing efforts. Glib borderline misogyny isn’t a good look for anyone, but Axe has managed to inject its central brand premise (“if you use our products, chicks will totally dig you, bro!”) with enough self-awareness to… if not entirely offset the childish innuendo, at least neutralize it. That’s a tricky line to walk. The most effective Axe marketing, then, is best likened to a cartoon - which, in one memorable case, it was, quite literally. The brand’s only stumbles have come when it ditched the suggestiveness in favor of the confidence-is-attractive-to-the-type-of-woman-who-would-appreciate-you-for-the-sophisticated-handsome-well-styled-good-smelling-sophisticate-that-you-are spiel spouted by 32,000 other marketers fixated on 20-something dudes.

So I’m a split on Axe’s most recent partial marketing makeover, which attempts to reinvent the brand as a cultural tastemaker. On one hand, it saddens me to learn that consumers in Axe’s target demographic will now have nowhere else, on this planet or any other, to turn for crass adolescent humor. On the other, well, you gotta grow up sooner or later, and the Axe Collective talent hunt represents a savvier cautious step in that direction than depicting young men in the throes of stereotypical manly-man manliness.

It’s as much a content play as a video one. Axe-worthy musicians and filmmakers - I’ll leave you to craft your own definition of “Axe-worthy” - are invited to submit a link to a short video snippet of their artistry and, if motivated, describe “how [their] work puts [their] individuality front and center” (LD response: “Um, adverbs?”). Who does the inviting? John Legend, who could class up a down-market Friendly’s simply by dropping in for a Fribble.

In the video that introduces the general premise of the Axe Collective, Legend elevates the brand by association. He manages to come across as enthusiastic and encouraging without gushing, exhorting or otherwise breaking a sweat; it’s the softest of soft sells. Who knows if the approach will prove a savvy one for Axe - a great many users of its products may not want the brand to ditch the juvenilia - but the combo of concept and pitchman feels consistent with the more upscale brand into which Axe clearly wants to evolve. So celebrate or mourn as you will: Axe might actually be serious about this growing-up thing.