It’s with little joy that I read that the Cadbury flake girl is on her way back to telly ads. What’ll it be this time? Another dozy mare in a field of opium poppies, off her head with chocolate delight painting flowers in the rain, like the last flake girl did? Maybe she’ll hide her chocolate stash under the sofa in a tin box (Galaxy bar) or be too doped up on choc not to know whether her husband’s going down the pub with his mates or philandering with his floozy (Cadbury Hot Chocolate). She could always imprison herself in her bedroom to snack up alone behind a locked door (Galaxy again). What is it with advertising chocolate to women as a drug?. Choc-o-holics? There’s no such thing, except in the mind of the chocolate men, pushers of a bar of brown fat and cocoa to female sugar addicts. It all sounds a bit Willy Wonka to me.
It’s with little joy that I read that the Cadbury flake girl is on her way back to telly ads. What’ll it be this time? Another dozy mare in a field of opium poppies, off her head with chocolate delight painting flowers in the rain, like the last flake girl did? Maybe she’ll hide her chocolate stash under the sofa in a tin box (Galaxy bar) or be too doped up on choc not to know whether her husband’s going down the pub with his mates or philandering with his floozy (Cadbury Hot Chocolate). She could always imprison herself in her bedroom to snack up alone behind a locked door (Galaxy again). What is it with advertising chocolate to women as a drug?. Choc-o-holics? There’s no such thing, except in the mind of the chocolate men, pushers of a bar of brown fat and cocoa to female sugar addicts. It all sounds a bit Willy Wonka to me.
