Mr Muscle: The last vestige of a bygone age?

Mrs Gin loves muscle. Sorry. We mean Mrs Gin loves Mr Muscle. Heh heh heh. Can you see what we did there? We made a borderline dirty joke. Aren’t we cheeky?

At least it was largely clean, though. Not sexist or racist. We don’t tolerate that here on Bleach and Tonic.

Mr Muscle, however, seems to come from a different age. We at Bleach and Tonic regard it, frankly, as a dinosaur adrift in the modern world.

The Richard Keys of TV, if you like

When the seasons change and Mrs Gin rouses herself from the sofa, she quite often cleans the kitchen using the stuff. For half an hour or so, complaining, she cleans. Them she struts, peacock proud, like she has painted the Forth Bridge all by her little ol’ self, then its back to the sofa and Mumsnet on the iPad for another fucking six months.

We ourself dislike the stuff for two reasons:

First, it does not smell. We just, for instance, Dettoled the floor and Zoflora’d (citrus fresh) the cupboard doors. The smell is divine. Intense, yes. Yes, it does cloy, a bit. No escaping that, but then, why would you want to?

Put it this way, if the ghost of Wilfred Owen walked into my kitchen, minding his dirty dead shoes on our clean wooden floor, he’d immediately clutch his throat, shout about gas and then reach for his note pad and try to pen a sequel to that one about the gas mask.

So, yes, it is intense. But it’s intense divinity. You just don’t get that with Mr Muscle. You just get a damp squib

Sorry, that looks a bit sexual.

Second, there is the elephant in the room. Not Mrs Gin, the name.

Let’s us be honest here. It’s the remnants of a different age. A more sexist one.

Mr Muscle, in its own dinosaur way, has tried to reinvent itself.

It’s gone from this, which we were all supposed to laugh at :

To this, which we were all supposed to …what? Be grateful there is a man there to help the poor little woman? Or be impressed by the size of the cartoon abs?

Just as the commidification of men’s body’s has changed, so have their adverts. Just like in the 70s, you couldn’t get on telly if you were female and didn’t have big tits, now men have the same problem. They are bombarded with images of ripped guts, taught arms and bulging thigs and we don’t think it is right.

The way in which Mr Muscle has tried to re-invent itself shows what a dinosaur it still is. Just as Richard Keys has gone off to the deserts and claimed all that appalling sexist stuff was ‘just banter’, so Mr Muscle has tried to re-invent itself as a harmless cartoon.

But there’s still something so offensive about the name. The implication that a) if you’re in a sticky situation, it takes a man to help you out and b) it takes a strong man. Why not Ms Muscle? Eh? Or Ms Fat but happy?

Move with the times SC Johnson Ltd!

That said, that said, it is quite good and if it inspires Mrs Gin to get off her cute little arse every now and then to make a girlish attempt at cleaning, then all to the good we say

Have a clean weekend

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