Toilet spray product VIPoo has haunted our televisions and pre-roll ads for over a year now. Alex Casey dissects one of the most challenging art pieces of the decade.
You know what I was casually thinking, just the other day? Even Hollywood’s sweethearts need to punish the porcelain. If that’s a normal thing to say in an ad, then I am sure as shit going to open this piece with it. For over a year, the VIPoo ad has plagued my online pre-rolls, my daily life and my dreams – a surreal vision of a tinseltown stink bug with a secret in a spray bottle. A scented product intended to be sprayed directly into the toilet before you go-go, VIPoo is the latest in a range of fancy sprays and drops, intended to mask the abject shame of your functioning lady bowels.
After it po(o)ped up the other night on TVNZ Ondemand, I was flushed back down the rabbit hole of stink sprays, crap concealers and turd trickery. There’s Poopourri, for example, a rival product whose marketing involves a 1950s-inspired instructional video series about how to poo at a dinner party with your crush, on a first date with your crush and at work with your crush. If that’s a bit too real, how about Unicorn Gold, an ultra-cutesy fairytale journey complete with princesses and rainbows? NB: you have to be a woman to use it because women must keep pooping secret/safe.
But it’s VIPoo, the one with the famous actress, the movie director and the gold toilet, that appears to have a stronghold over the New Zealand market. But what is the ad really saying? And what the hell kinda shape are those turds, Wanda? I present to you the definitive analysis of 59 seconds of wonder.
A star is born
Gather all ye media, ye bloggers, ye influencers, ye plus ones, for the event of the century. ‘Tis the premiere of Magic Wanda at The Grand, the glitziest movie theatre hosting the biggest star in town: Wanda Poopalot. Okay I made up her last name. Wanda needs to, and I quote, “punish the porcelain” the second she steps onto the red carpet. It says at the bottom of the ad that she is a paid actor which, duh, Wanda ain’t doing Magic Wanda for Whitcoulls vouchers.
Good toilet mind you
What a dreamy situation – a toilet conveniently placed right next to the red carpet behind nothing but a shroud of blue silk. First of all, note the use of unisex signage. Forward-thinking, about as forward-thinking as VIPoo technology itself. Second of all, nice to see the Guggenheim gold toilet has found a new home after Trump turned it down. Wanda is reticent once upon the glimmering throne, worried about humiliating herself in front of her Beverly Hills besties. Seems specific, but OK.
Lemon party alert
Never fear, Wanda weirdly brought a bottle of VIPoo with her in her clutch, in the enticing scent of ‘lemon idol’. Lemon. Idol. Lemon Idol. The lemon is your idol. The lemon is the captain now. You stan a lemon legend. Lemon idol. What does it mean? On closer inspection of the flavour range, it’s clear that there is something weird happening here. Fruity pin-up. Lavender superstar. Rosy starlet. Kinda sounds like a Perfume: The Story of a Murderer situation but sure, I’ll spray the juice of a starlet into my gold toilet, Wanda.
Donut go in there
Excuuuuuse me Wanda but what in the hell did you just do in that toilet? The graphic shows VIPoo working its magic, forming a protective layer on the water above her “devil’s donuts”. Call the true detectives, because it would appear Wanda’s craps are a flat circle. Taking a brief sabbatical to view VIPoo literature further, I found more harrowing evidence:
Using the poo emoji seems kinda fine – perhaps even a classic of the genre. But whoever is responsible for the one on the right needs to go to ED immediately, because you literally just shat your intestines out. At least they smell like a lemon idol.
Why are they wafting tho
It seems like Wanda’s most concerned about her boss, Hollywood’s hottest director, knowing that she just pooped a series of donuts into the toilet. Tbh, I’d be worried too. But not as worried as I would be about the fact that my boss just walked into the toilet after me and WAFTED THE AIR TOWARDS HIS NOSE WHILE SMILING CONTENTEDLY. Or that my coworker, who used the trailer toilet after me, would use his HUGE HAT TO WAFT THE AIR UP TO HIS NOSE WHILE SHUTTING HIS EYES IN SATISFACTION.
As for men themselves? VIPoo (and every other brand for that matter) suggests that they don’t need to cover up their smells at all. If anything, they deserve a spray that intensifies the smell, bottles it, and sells it in little vials on Ebay as the pure essence of manhood. Women don’t poop. They don’t even have butts, did you know?
Who is honey pie?
Wanda strikes again, holed up with yet another mystery man called “honey pie” who, although he doesn’t waft with his hands, is still extremely obsessed with inhaling toilet aroma. So now it’s not just coworkers and bosses you have to be worried about, but intimate romantic partners. Surrounded by his best actor awards and with a huge headshot of HIMSELF by HIS bed, I would argue that Wanda has bigger problems to deal with than causing a pong in the john.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a hankering for donuts all of a sudden. Thank you for everything, VIPoo