It's Not That Deep Until It Is
Critiquing ad campaigns and everything else in the sh*tstorm of our current climate
Living through the self-immolation of political discourse doesn’t often give us high points, so I would like to take a moment and recognize American Eagle X Sydney Sweeney in their efforts to produce a marketing campaign so truly, unfathomably awful, it’s focused The Culture for a moment.
The Sydney Sweeney ad is notably different from the rest of the generally shit things that are happening right now because…we just know all the other stuff is shit. No one is making any bones about shit things being shit right now. It’s out there, plain as day. And it’s no less shitty — but gives us something to chew on a little bit more — when the purveyors of shitdom play hide-and-go-seek with young adult fashion retailers.
If you haven’t seen the ad, Sydney Sweeney, in her American Eagle jeans, remarks that, “Genes are passed down from parents to offspring, often determining traits like hair color, personality and even eye color. My jeans are blue." The ad’s tagline: Sydney Sweeney has great jeans.
The ad’s biggest critics note that pairing of actress Sydney Sweeney - conventionally attractive with blonde hair and blue eyes - with language around genetics, offspring, traits, etc. reeks of eugenics, a long defunct “field of study” that aimed to improve the “genetic quality of the human population” by…I mean, I feel gross even typing that out so I’m going to stop. Brass tacks, eugenics was a popular line with the Nazis. The icing on the cake is the ad’s final implication: that Sydney’s genes are so good, they’re GRRRREAT! AKA: they’re preferable to any other kinds of genes.
American Eagle’s pithy swap of genes for jeans goes miles to obstruct all of the ickiness of the ad’s subtext. When the ad is brought up in discourse, there’s a really convenient answer: It’s just a joke. A pun. We didn’t know, we didn’t even think about it! It’s not that deep.
And that excuses any justified critique of the ad, of American Eagle, of Sweeney herself.
I can feel the cultural clock rewinding minute-by-minute, but this hiding-in-plain-sight shit scares me in a different way to what plays out on our TV screens. Simply: we have agreed to go backwards.
It’s easy to stand up to fascism, racism, bigotry, the whole kit-and-caboodle when it’s right there in front of you. For those who have spent time critically thinking about systemic issues, the Sydney Sweeney debacle constitutes “right there in front of you”. But for a lot of the population - it doesn’t. It’s just an ad for jeans.
And yes. This is an ad for jeans. An ad for jeans with $200 million price tag. $200 million means this project had a fuck ton (professional marketing jargon) of eyes on it from start to finish, with plenty of time for someone to raise their hand and say, “Look. I’m not so sure about this whole…thing.”
This is an ad for jeans, which included a deliberate decision to use a conventionally attractive, white actress who has been famously caught in the cultural crossfire for MAGA-related incidents, utilizing language that reads like it’s from Fascism 101. (Seriously. Find the sound clip. Offspring? It’s bizarre. It literally sounds like cut lines from the Dr. Strangelove script.)
And while I love a UFO or cryptid-take, ultimately, I don’t believe there is an actual group of white supremacists, scheming away in the Tower of Doom and planning marketing campaigns for American Eagle Outfitters. Rather, I think we are witnessing a reversal of empathy and inclusion in deference to profit. Everyone is just playing along now. But maybe that’s the point. When a brand championed for it’s inclusivity in product and promotion over the past decade makes the sharp right turn to eugenicist phraseology with such speed and aplomb, it’s all the same.
A few weeks ago, I was visiting my grandmother. We love the same movies and books and generally everything, which means that our visits are full of good conversation about the things we are interested in.
One evening we watched 2024’s Small Things Like These, a drama set in 1980s Ireland based on the book by Claire Keegan. It’s a beautiful movie (and even better novella) and while I won’t go into the in’s-and-out’s of the plot, it ends somewhat openly.
As the credits rolled, my grandmother asked me, “What do you think happened next?”
What did I think happened next? I wasn’t sure. I love combing through media, pulling out symbolism and foreshadowing, but don’t usually stop to think about what might happen after the last page or production studio logo.
This is crunchiness, as a friend perfectly put it over dinner recently. It’s chewing on things, like questioning what might happen after the movie is over or trying to see things from your least favorite character’s perspective. Basically: critical thinking, going below what’s offered to you at a surface level.
The danger of the Sydney Sweeney ad, and subsequent fall out, is the brand itself and the ad’s defenders demand audiences to put the thinking part on hold and simply accept that this is an ad for jeans, nothing more, nothing less. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, and anyone making a fuss about the implications of the ad are overthinking it.
(…I guess no one in the American Eagle marketing department has ever read this blog because all we do here is overthink.)
Crunchiness, curiosity, critical analysis - all of this makes the world so much more interesting. Even when the results of such thinking are disheartening, it’s more necessary than ever to engage with the subtleties and nuances of our media, our politics, our discourse. Especially when the results are disheartening.
This is not an essay on how / why - in 2025 - a major retailer would run an ad like the one American Eagle has. I know why and still don’t understand it, and I certainly can’t offer you an answer about what you should do to feel better about it, either. We are living in hard times and anything I write here, you’ve heard before. Come together in community. Write to your senators. Maintain your light.
And maybe this, too — keep thinking. Chew on images, on color. Take notes. Question things. Check in not only with others, but also with yourself. Live in the crunch.
I’m not trying to write a political essay here, but offer a way of engaging with the world that is more meaningful than passive acceptance. Because it’s important. But it’s also just more enjoyable.
I would like, however, to leave you with another corporate marketing campaign, one that, when I crunch on it, gives me some hope.
The upcoming Hello Kitty X Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Happy Meal toy collab.
I grew up in an era in which one ordered a Happy Meal answering three questions:
cheeseburger or chicken nuggets?
what to drink?
boy or girl toy?
I’ve been following McDonald’s campaigns for years because I am an unapologetic McDonald’s fan. I won’t explain myself. (I will. Probably next week here on this Substack.)
And while several campaigns over the past few years have been cause for excitement both culturally and personally (the Angel Reese Meal, the current Lil McDonald’s Happy Meal minis), the Hello Kitty X TMNT collab strikes a particular chord given the state of the world.
In addition to being really fucking cute, these 12 characters offer Happy Meal consumers and the general public a more holistic way of approaching identity in our exceptionally divisive and binarized world. The line-up showcases your favorite Sanrio friends, now in slime-green donning TMNT masks and shells, in combos like Badtz-Maru X Leonardo and Cinamoroll x Donatello.
Gone are the days of girl toy v. boy toy. This collab is both and everything all at once: cuteness and combat, softness and power, masculine and feminine. It’s a reminder that we don’t have to pick a side. Everyone is invited. We can show up encompassing multitudes. And fries.
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Tiny confused girly-hating hello kitty-loving child me would have fainted with joy over that collab.