DuPont Orlon - Game of bro's.

Fashion news now, from 1957! It's summer wardrobe time, citizens, and that means warm, breathable polyester/wool blends from DuPont. And paneling! ...also probably from DuPont, come to think of it.

This ad tells the story of a person and two men playing a little... uuh... snooker? ...bumper pool? I can't think of a billiards game that uses two white balls. Anyway, in the foreground is Man 1, who could be planning his next shot based on where the balls lie after Man 2 has had his turn.

Or, he could be secretly poisoning his cue with a lethal curare. Note how his back is turned to his opponent and he looks so sneaky.

Or he may not be looking at the table at all, but at the other gentleman's junk, imagining what he's going to do to him once he gets him alone and the lady has gone upstairs.

The lady should be careful. Perspective is unclear here, but Man 2 could be about to jab her in the ute' on his backswing. This would open the door to a wonderfully grand spit-take for her, as long as she gets that tea in her mouth in a second or two. That's why this picture is great. The narrative could go in any direction.

But one thing's for sure. It won't go in the direction of the lady joining in the game. Since this is 1957, and this ad appeared in Esquire magazine, "The Magazine for smarmy douchebags Men", the woman is just a bystander. She's scenery. She's there to observe the big strong men and thrill to their billiardic exploits, becoming as wet as spring.

That was 1957. Since then, society has corrected this overt sexism in advertising. Now, every man appearing in a commercial with a woman is, by necessity, a lovable buffoon who doesn't know how to use a computer, change a diaper, scramble eggs, or metabolize carbohydrates without the tolerant assistance of the female character to straighten him out.

If this ad were to appear next week in a major publication, the woman would be operating the cue, and the man would have a pancake stuck to the side of his face, be on fire, and would have lost a finger, because, you know, that afternoon he tried to make a salad. The other man would simply be dead, lying  next to a pile of his own viscera, having attempted to use TurboTax without the supervision of his wife. What an adorable bunch of lunkheads we are.

Click for big, lunkhead.