If only life was child’s play
WHO doesn’t love a John Lewis advert, especially at this time of year?
Well, plenty of people if the furore around the new one pushing the retailer’s home insurance is anything to go by.
If you haven’t caught it, the ad centres on a young boy, resplendent in his mum’s dress and necklace collection, bouncing around his house like a whirling dervish knocking stuff over to a throbbing Stevie Nicks soundtrack.
He’s wearing a slick of eyeshadow and a pop of lippy and, as he careers through the house upending pots of paint, knocking over furniture and chucking glitter about, it’s clear he’s living his best life.
The mini film is entitled Let Life Happen. It’s joyous and it makes me smile.
Not so those who throw words like ‘agenda pushing’ and ‘sexism’ at it though.
You’d think with all that’s happening in the world, a small boy in a frock being a bit naughty in a telly ad might not raise much of a stink but goodness folk are cross.
Some have accused John Lewis of using the ad as a ‘cultural lecture’ or a statement on gender diversity or – Lord help us – ‘woke-dom’.
Others are livid that, in their eyes, it promotes wanton destruction and bad behaviour.
But I genuinely think the ‘what’s the world coming to’ brigade have missed the point.
For me, the ad captures a period in every child’s life – all too fleeting – when kids can just be kids and they simply don’t care what anyone thinks.
They haven’t yet learned to be embarrassed about who they are or conform to how society dictates they should act. They do as they please, unencumbered by worry about those looking on.
You can see it in playgrounds when little girls do handstands, knickers on display to the world, hair flying and mud on their faces.
A few short years later they’ll be weighed down by worries about body image and whether their underwear comes from Marks or Victoria’s Secret. Their faces will be covered in foundation and concealer and bronzer. Mud is what they use as a face-pack.
Meanwhile, by the time their male classmates are 10 or 11, they’re learning that running around pretending to be a dinosaur is not cool.
Playing imaginary games where you talk to your toys and they talk back is simply, well, for kids.
And dressing up – whether in a frock or a cowboy outfit – becomes a no-no.
As a parent it’s a sobering moment when it happens. You look at your offspring and realise that a little bit of their childhood has vanished and is never coming back.
But if only we could all retain even a trace of that utter lack of guile wouldn’t life be a bit more fun? A bit less stressful?
I’m not condoning the John Lewis kid putting his paint-spattered hands on the couch – have you seen the price of soft furnishings in that store? – or chucking glitter into the shag-pile.
But that’s what kids do.
And secretly, that utter lack of giving a hoot about others is where we’d all like to be some days.