It is a truth universally acknowledged that when you go to Target, you’re going to spend $200 more than you need to. Like, sure, you came in for witch hazel and maybe a candle but you’re leaving with a back to school set (even though you graduated three years ago), a throw pillow making kit, and directions for a barbecue that you’ll never buy. That’s how it works.

But what if I told you that Target knew exactly what it was doing and was letting the throw pillows mess with you on purpose? I know. Welcome to the glamorous but also sad world of advertising.

After some research that was put into the very questionable dynamic of Target shoppers, Refinery29 has confirmed that your impulse buys have a scientific basis. So you’re still fiscally irresponsible and in possession of two more micro-fleece blankets than you actually need, but it’s nice to know that it’s not entirely your fault.

Basically, Target is laid out to fuck with you. According to Tom Meyvis, a professor of marketing at New York University, “Stores have an idea about the path . Walmart was once famous for doing things like putting like Band-Aids next to fishing hooks and things like that. Something you don’t naturally associate, but once you see them there, it makes sense.”

So the evil genius layout that has you staring at clothes clearly made for high schoolers, combined with the generally cheery aesthetic and likely the oxygen they pump in like a Vegas casino (unconfirmed) creates the perfect storm for an impulse buying environment. And the worst part? They know it. Joe Perdew, Target’s Vice President of Store Design, knows it. “That whole ‘I came in for shampoo and left with two carts full of other things’ phenomenon is real!”

TL;DR: Target is that guy from college that you used to hook up with when you were feeling shitty about yourself, who fully knew the situation and played into your self-destructive behavior. You will remember him. You will revisit him. You will never trust him. Or his buy one, get one candles.

The Basics

Industry: Advertising. My office could not be more stereotypically “millennial advertising” if we tried. Portland’s latest warehouse loft-turned-office has it all: exposed brick. unfinished floors. open floor plans. a three-legged dog who named Cooper who loves burritos as much as any of the rest of us. Welcome to media, it’s just as glamorous as you were promised.

Age: 26

Location: Portland, OR

Salary: Approx. $50K

Paychecks: I get paid twice a month, on the 15th and the 30th. Sometimes this seems like a rational spacing of time, and sometimes it seems like four years have passed between the 15th and the 17th. If pay day happens to fall on a Friday, I am guaranteed to be starving for the next week and a half because my drunk self has no concept of not spending her entire paycheck mere seconds after she receives it on drinks for her all her friends.

Bonus: Much like debt-free college and social security, bonuses are a myth perpetuated by baby boomers to make us hate ourselves. No one tell them how well it’s working.

Shit I Pay For

 

Rent: For rent and utilities, I pay a grand total of $705 a month. I realize that this is a screaming deal, and there’s likely a reason. I live in the corner apartment of a building on a bustling street that hosts no less than four ambulance parties a night. We have no dishwasher, which means I could be stricken down with salmonella at any given moment. About once a month, someone tries to break into our basement storage/laundry room, which means I am unable to clean my clothes or access my storage unit for days at a time while the door is being replaced. Sometimes this means you have to wrap your cat in a blanket and carry her to her vet appointment because you physically cannot access her carrier. Don’t mind me, the quirky twentysomething strolling down a busy thoroughfare, gripping a struggling, screaming, overweight cat as if her life depended on it. I’m a rom com waiting to happen.

 

Car: I’d say I fill my car up about twice a month, and it’s probably $40 each time because I wait until there are literal tumbleweeds rolling around in the tank before coasting to the gas station that is only slightly downhill from my apartment.

 

Comcast: I pay $40 a month for moderately reliable wifi and access to the most basic cable package so that I can watch two shows in real time: Riverdale and anything from The Bachelor franchise. I initially positioned this as a work necessity, just in case I have to write a recap or reactionary piece. That has never happened. I’m just trash who needs immediate access to Riverdale and The Bachelor.

Hulu: My first big move into adulthood was taking over my family’s Hulu payment because it felt weird making my grandma pay for it while I handed out the password to all my friends. You could say I’m selfless. We sprang for the $11/month plan so that we can skip commercials. This is how the other side lives, my friends.

 

Gym Membership: I pay $89/month for a Class Pass membership that gets halfhearted use at best. Some weeks I’ll remember that one day the sun will return to this god forsaken city, and I go to barre religiously for four days in a row. Then I discover Hawaiian food and don’t move for another three weeks. Moderation is everything.

 

Going Out/Eating/Stupid Shit: I’m so offended that you would even think I’d subject myself to the trauma of checking these numbers. It’s too much okay? Is that enough? Are you not entertained?

 

Savings: I try to put away anywhere from $200 – $400 a month for a month long trip I have booked in October. “Try” is the operative word here, because I usually end up dipping back into that savings a couple days before pay day. My Mint app is furiously buzzing just hearing me type this.

 

Student Loans: I have come to accept that I will be paying these until the day I die. My 10-year plan is that the United States government crumbles in some kind of YA dystopian anarchy plotline, and I don’t have to finish paying for my college degree. That’s it. That’s as far as I’ve gotten in the realm of financial planning.

 

 

A Typical Day

8:00am – Eat what I’ve convinced myself is a healthy cereal alternative but what I know deep in my heart to just be a Trader Joe’s branded version of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Sprinkle a couple blackberries on top and voilà, I am a health guru.

8:20am – Get into my car and notice that my gas light is on. How long has it been on? Only God knows. Immediately decide that this is a problem for later me to deal with.

8:35am – Stop on my way to work to buy an iced latte that I can hardly justify because our office provides coffee. But it’s the closest thing Portland has to Blue Bottle and so we all have to make our scarifies, I guess. My favorite part about spending $5.75 on an iced latte is that it only takes me 30 seconds to drink it and immediately wish that I had another one. Sure, it could have been $4.75, but I tipped a full dollar in my ongoing efforts to get the hot barista to remember me. This strategy has yet to pan out.

8:37am – While waiting for my latte, I openly gawk at a woman at a nearby table who has managed to pull off the heavy bang/oversized overall/struggling yet chic artist look that I was convinced, until this moment, only worked on people like Alexa Chung and Rachel McAdams. I wonder if she also tipped the barista a dollar.

10:00am – Walk to the cafe by my office because it’s such a nice day and why not get some fresh air! Definitely no ulterior motives here! Just accompanying a friend and basking in that sweet Oregon sunshine!

10:05am – Order a side of bacon, because I’m a growing 26-year-old girl and if keto taught me anything, it’s that we should be celebrating this perfect piece of meat.

12:30pm – Ventured to New Seasons to stock up on cheese for my weekly Riverdale viewing party. If you don’t spend your Wednesday nights devouring entire wedges of jalapeño gouda and mocking Archie Andrews, I honestly don’t know what to tell you other than to get your shit together.

While there, I realize that I have yet to drink a single liquid today that isn’t coffee, something that is definitely not helping eradicate the cold that has slowly taken over my body in the last 24 hours. In the name of self-care, I spend $4 on 11 oz. of hand squeeze orange juice and another $2.50 on a giant-ass bottle of Fiji water. I recognize that spitting in the face of sustainability is a bold choice to make in Portland, but I don’t have a dishwasher and don’t trust my own paltry cleaning skills to remove whatever bacteria may have accumulated in the four reusable bottles I actually own after months of use/baking in the backseat of my car.

 

I didn’t buy lunch because Tuesday night I decided to meal prep for the week to make myself feel better about a solid week straight of takeout. This didn’t stop me from standing in front of the hot bar mac and cheese and just sighing for five straight minutes. But, in the spirit of full disclosure, if we were talking a typical day I’d spend five minutes hemming and hawing about saving money and then drop $9 on a boxed salad, likely rife with e. Coli.

 

2:30pm – Consider eating the “afternoon snack” I packed this morning. It’s a healthy and dissatisfying combo of carrot sticks and white bean basil hummus, something that sounded enjoyable while I was furiously grocery shopping the night before but now just makes me want to die.

2:40pm – Eat it anyway. Even Cooper is unimpressed.

4:30pm – I head to the store to buy some stupid expensive sunscreen for my stupid pale skin because the stupid lovely sun came out in Portland for the first time this stupid year. God forbid I go to an outdoor happy hour before slathering myself in SPF60 and praying that whatever well alcohol I’ve selected for myself won’t interact with the sun and result in a cute rash across my chest.

4:45pm – It is now time for later me to deal with the fact that my car is running on literal fumes. I stop at the gas station near my office where the taxis fill up, because it’s cheaper and still pull the “just $10 regular” move because I have never heard of foresight. Sounds like a problem for two-days-from-now me.

6:30pm – Spend the entire drive to happy hour convincing myself to just get whatever cheap cider they have on draft and then don’t even hesitate before ordering the $10 cocktail special because it sounds festive and tropical. I also spring for an order of chips and salsa for the table because I’m the backbone of my friend group and also plan on eating them almost entirely by myself.

 

7:20pm – Head to my friend’s house for our Riverdale viewing party, where I eat no less than five different kinds of cheese. It’s easier to listen to Veronica say “Daddy” 150 times per episode when you’re uncomfortably full of brie and jalapeño gouda.

8:15pm – This episode is dark. Like, are we really all going to pretend we cared that much about Midge? And are we going to have to spend the rest of this season dealing with the return of tortured Archie? Because there isn’t enough cheese in all of New Seasons to make that okay.

9:30pm – Have to physically restrain myself from getting ice cream on the way home. I don’t know when I became this monster that eats entire meals consisting solely of dairy, but I blame Whole30. There’s no logic there, I just like to blame them for anything that goes wrong in my life.

 

Total Spending for One Weekday: Not counting the sunscreen but including the salad I typically would have bought, we’re looking at $49.42. I’ve had worse days, but it’s still not great.

Total Spending for One Week if I Spent Like This Every Day: $345.94. Refinery29, if you’re still looking for people with zero understanding of how money works, give me a call.

 

It probably goes without saying, but this could have been a lot worse. If you factored a weekend brunch into this plus even the tamest of nighttime activities, were’ looking at $500 a week. Who do I think I am? Bill Gates?

 

I know that, compared to a lot of people in a lot of places, I’m doing pretty well. I have an apartment that is cute when I actually clean it. I manage to eat enough food to feel bad about myself. My cat goes to a vet that’s nicer than my actual doctor. I feel safe spending at least $7 extra dollars a week just to gain the affection of a barista who will never know my name. I’ve done okay for myself.

 

Shout out to people living in more expensive cities with less means. You’re the real MVP’s. Feel free to teach my your ways, unless they require that I stop spending $20 a week on extravagant cheeses to accompany my CW shows. That’s just not a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

 

Images: Giphy (5)

Every March, American corporations engage in the time honored tradition of celebrating women through transparent marketing ploys. From McDonald’s flipping the golden arches upside down to Johnnie Walker temporarily calling itself Jane Walker, huge companies are pulling lame stunts to distract us from their continuous contributions to the wage gap and office harassment culture! Yay feminism!

BrewDog Beer For Girls

This company literally just put a pink logo on its regular IPA and called it Beer for Girls. Supposedly an attempt to call out advertising industry sexism, this sort of just feels like…advertising industry sexism.

Jane Walker

250,000 bottles of Johnnie Walker will have the titular man on the label replaced with a woman named Jane Walker. The company is hoping this will attract female customers because “scotch as a category is seen as particularly intimidating by women,” according to the company’s VP. Apparently, grown women will get over their supposedly deep-seated fear of brown liquor if they see a woman on the bottle. Unfortunately for Johnnie Walker, Scotch is not intimidating, it’s just fucking gross. As is Jane’s outfit.

Brawny Women in Flannel

Also joining the trend of changing product packaging instead of company culture or hiring practices is Brawny, who put a woman in a flannel shirt on its paper towels this month.

Smirnoff & Spotify

Smirnoff partnered with Spotify on an algorithm that calls you out if your listening habits are sexist. I’m sorry, but women don’t really need to be berated for listening to whatever the fuck we want in order to get through a workday that probably includes at least one micro-aggression.

WcDonald’s

You know what really makes up for the fact that in addition to slowly poisoning the American populace, McDonald’s is a notoriously sexist and racist employer that has refused calls to pay workers a livable wage? Turning all their Golden M’s into W’s for one day!

Lady Doritos

Ok, this didn’t actually end up happening nor was it supposed to be in honor of Women’s History Month, but I can’t not include PepsiCo’s iconic failed plan to debut a chip for ladies. The tragically cancelled snack was going to solve all of the biggest challenges facing women today, like the fact that we have to make noise when we chew and that chip bags don’t fit in our purses. The best part of this whole debacle is that Pepsi’s CEO and spokesperson for this psychotic concept is Indra Nooyi, Blair Waldorf’s one episode career icon.

Starbucks & Malala Fund

As a person who spends an obscene amount of money on iced coffee, I am feeling blessed to report that one company actually supporting women this month is Starbucks. The company is partnering with Malala Yousafzai’s foundation to invest in education for girls. Malala herself said, “I want to thank Starbucks for believing in my dream of a world where girls can choose their own future.” Same, and also a world where cinnamon dolce lattes exist.

Heads up, you need to keep up with the news. It’s not cute anymore. That’s why we’ve created a 5x weekly newsletter called The ‘Sup that will explain all the news of the week in a hilarious af way. Because if we weren’t laughing, we’d be crying. Sign up for The ‘Sup now!

By now you’ve probably seen the Kendall Jenner pepsi ad and read over one thousand think pieces on how stupid, “tone deaf,” and just generally fucked it was. As far as that debate goes, we have already participated and have nothing left to add. However, now that the dust is settling and the post-Pepsi hangover is finally kicking in, we have to ask the one question that is on any amateur conspiracy theorist’s mind: did Pepsi do this on purpose for attention?

As betches, we all know how to recognize when someone is doing something just for attention. We spotted it when Madeline wore that “desperate” look to the Audrey & Elvis party, and we can spot it now. Plus, as avid followers of the Kardashians, we know that anything, literally anything, involving that family is meticulously planned out in a secret underground Beverly Hills bunker and approved by Kris Jenner herself. Kendall has not taken a shit in the past 21 years without Kris’ approval, so there’s no way she didn’t know about this.

But like, what do media people say about this? Well, they’re divided. In a story published by the LA Times, chairman of Reputation Management Consultants Eric Schiffer said “I think played it the way they intended to, adding that the “net effect” of the ad was positive “because the world is talking about it.”

It’s kind of like that one week in high school when I caused a brief scandal by dumping one member of the Oakton High School theater community to go to homecoming with a different (more handsome) member of the Oakton Theater community. Were people calling me a slut behind my back? Sure. But was I also the talk of the town just in time for one of OHS’ most important fall social events? You fucking know it.

And here’s the thing: Pepsi is no stranger to pulling controversial ads aimed at young people. In 1989, Madonna (woman from the eighties who made out with Britney at the VMAS) teamed up with Pepsi during the Grammy’s to debut her song “Like A Prayer” with a two minute Pepsi commercial, which was also supposed to announce that Pepsi would be sponsoring Mads’ next world tour. But then, after the official “Like A Prayer” video was released and featured Madonna dancing in front of burning crosses and having interracial sex in a church pew (casual), Pepsi was forced to pull the ad and cancel Madonna’s contract.

So like, if Pepsi has fucked up like this once, how could they fuck up like this again? I mean, sure, 1989 is like one whole Taylor Swift ago, but people usually remember when they spark international controversy.

Unless….that’s exactly what Pepsi wanted. 

Think about it, when was the last time you were affected by Pepsi in your day-to-day life? When was the last time you even saw someone with a Pepsi? TBH I forgot they existed after they stopped using Britney as their spokeswoman. I’d kind of assumed they were dead. But now, for better or for worse, Pepsi is back in the media again. In that same LA Times article, Schiffer estimated that Pepsi probably earned somewhere between $300 million and $400 million in free media coverage due to their controversial ad. In Kardashian terms, this kind of financial windfall is referred to as “Tuesday.”

In an article called “Pepsi’s New Ad Is A Total Success,” The Atlantic’s Ian Bogost reminds us that “Before it’s an ad for shampoo or cat food or cola, every advertisement is first an ad for capitalism.” And apart from the fact that he sounds exactly like every hipster you dated for like two minutes before realizing he was too annoying to spend time with, Bogost is right. Pepsi got exactly what Pepsi wanted, which is basically for people to be talking about Pepsi.

Again, this goes back to the Shit Talking Principle, which basically states that any person who is being talked shit about is getting attention, thereby they are popular, and thereby they are socially successful. It’s like, Newton’s fifth law or something.

Let’s not forget that this ad had to go through tons of people before it went to air, meaning there were many, many opportunities for someone at Pepsi to say “Hey maybe we shouldn’t suggest that Kendall Jenner solve police brutality with a refreshing Pepsi?” or “Hey guys it doesn’t really make sense that Kendall Jenner would walk off of a modeling set to join a protest that appears to be in favor of nothing.” Are they really trying to get us to believe that a group of some of the highest paid ad execs in the business had no idea the ad would be taken this way? Have they even seen Twitter? You can barely RT a Spongebob meme without some egg coming out of the woodwork to tell you how Spongebob is actually racist because it perpetuates harmful plankton stereotypes. Pepsi had to know this is how the ad would go.

More recently, the same Atlantic piece points out that Pepsi was roasted back in 2009 for a bizarre leaked design strategy that literally compared Pepsi’s new swirly-spiral trademark to The Mona Lisa and was full of batshit diagrams like this:

Wtf is this? What does it mean? Why does the little Pepsi jump us to the future when the big Pepsi is already jumping us to the same future? Whose DNA are they referring to? What is happening in that little white squiggle line that changes the world from convention to innovation? I have so many questions. 

So you see, even back in 2009, people were wise to Pepsi’s shady, attention whore behavior (THINKPIECE IDEA: Is Pepsi The Vanessa Of Soft Drinks?) with some media outlets calling the entire thing a “hoax released as part of a ‘viral marketing campaign by the drink firm to get attention from the internet.’”

Bogost ends his Pepspiracy theory by stating, “The genius of this decision is that it satisfies everyone. The Kardashian fanatics got their Kendall Jenner fix. The agitators get to feel that they have successfully redressed a big brand company; a minor victory in a time of so many defeats. The earnest, probably-white folk who enjoyed Pepsi’s alternative to constant politicization got their saccharine status-quo and now they also get a branded excuse to issue a counter-offensive against the progressives who insisted on bringing politics into innocuous soft drinks (surely it’s coming). The media get their scoops, and their think pieces (like this one). And these outcomes, incompatible as though they are all return attention to Pepsi—which is all it really wanted in the first place.”

TL;DR: Pepsi are evil geniuses who found a way to make an ad so stupid that it pissed off everyone, thereby getting attention from everyone, which was the point of the stupid ad in the first place. Please remind me to employ this strategy next time one of my friends think that they can have a wedding that is just a “celebration of love” and isn’t somehow also about me.

Pepsi, whether or not you knew your ad was going to blow up into a heaping trash fire that threatened to engulf the Kardashians along with it, we don’t know, but what we do know is that your shady behavior is hereby noted and that your pettiness level is hereby declared high. Which may or may not have been what you wanted all along.

Now BRB while I use my incredible investigative skills to help solve the crisis in Syria and stop World War III from fucking up our summer vacation. You’re welcome in advance.