Yesterday, I was handed a bottle of Swagger. I stared at it and asked the smiling guy behind the Walgreens counter whatever was I supposed to do with a men’s bodywash. He simply shrugged. Luckily, Father’s Day had just passed: I pawned it off on my dad.
Swagger. The term resurfaced from the graves of the English language thanks to M.I.A.’s bold declaration that “no one on the corner has swagger like [them].” The song was an instant success, and has since sparked frenzy around the 500-year-old word.
The word originally referred to one’s gait. In example, look at youngster swaggering down the street. Swagger was something one did, not something to be possessed. That changed in the 1800s, when the term transformed to mean, “a self-confident outlook,” amongst other things. But few referred to themselves as having swagger until the M.I.A. hit Paper Planes came crashing into the airwaves, declaring their possession of the unfamiliar term.
M.I.A. has sent the entire world in pursuit of swagger. It has since been featured in ample hip-hop songs. It has become a fixture in the average teen’s vocabulary. It has even crossed cultural barriers into the mainstream as New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd entitled a recent article, “Their Dangerous Swagger.” And now, in a way that most celebrities and starlets can only dream, its essence and phrasing is being bottled and sold, courtesy of Old Spice.
The partnership seems fitting. Just like the word “swagger,” Old Spice has undergone a significant rebirth recently. Born in the 1950s, the legendary brand was initially associated with the distinguished gentleman, a man firmly in the throws of adulthood.
Ironically, this commercial merely reminds me of the ills of aftershave.
I digress.
The brand took on an air of serious manliness, something only one’s father and grandfather could possibly possess. As the initial users began to gray and fade into oblivion, few of the sons of these loyal users– once they felt that had reached the maturity and age necessary to declare themselves Old Spice men–remained with the brand. Over time, Old Spice became relegated to the margins of society, as its buyer base continued to wane from generation after generation. In 1990, Proctor and Gamble purchased Old Spice, determined that simply rebranding the fragrance as younger and cooler could salvage its image.
Under the powerhouse marketing of the consumer goods company, the brand has been revived. Old Spice has become the leading men’s deodorant, knocking Right Guard and Axe off of their pedestals. The strategy seems to be infusing the campaign and commercial with wit and humor while maintaining select elements of the traditional Old Spice brand. The nautical lifestyle is evident discreetly in every commercial or advertisement—note the ship mast in the background. The posh, sophisticated lifestyle of the man in each depiction—the plush leather chair, the horse riding, etc. are all collateral remaining from the initial brand.
Though Old Spice’s makeover has been in the works for the last ten years, I believe that its complete metamorphosis into a fun, youthful and cool brand occurred this year, with the launching of its SuperBowl Ad for the “man your man could smell like.”
It is the marriage of the modern and traditional: while mocking the brand, it also reverently protects its legendary image.
My one problem with the depiction? That the men in each campaign for Swagger claim to
use the brand to become cool. The before and after videos show that Old Spice Swagger gave these men confidence, sexual appeal and social currency.
Is anyone else reminded of the whole Steve Urkel/Stephan Urkelle complex from Family Matters when watching these commercials?
Is the product targeted to social misfits? That’s exactly what the underlying message states: If you want to become cool, use Old Spice Swagger.
I know, the idea behind the campaign is humor. Yet, the underlying message remains long after the laughs have ended.
Swagger will make you cool.
And what man would openly admit to lacking in the cool department? After these commercials, which are hysterical, memorable, and employ the endorsement of national celebrities, what man will stand in the line with a bottle of Swagger in tow? I think this is yet another example of commercials that capture attention but not sales. I couldn’t find revenue from the Swagger product line but if the gifting of Swagger at my local Walgreens is any sign, I’d say that swagger, despite P&G’s marketing attempts, is not selling.
My suggestion? Rather than depicting how pitiful the men were before using Swagger, I would show how Swagger simply enhanced the game, the confidence, and the lives of these men. Rather than showing a young LL screeching when crossing a girl, show LL having more women once he began using Swagger. Though the contrast isn’t as dramatic, this strategy relieves the brand of its association with inadequate, nerdy, and socially awkward men.
Until then, the only bottles of Swagger flying out of stores will be as freebies, given to women like myself who spend exorbitant sums at Walgreens, who then parcel the bottles out to our fathers, brothers and boyfriends. And that’s hardly the way swagger should be distributed.
Until next time. . .
Tags: aftershave, Brian Urlacher, Family Matters, Home Alone, lashonda cooks, LL Cool J, MIA, old spice, Paper Planes, proctor and gamble, Steve Urkel, superbowl ad, swagger, the man your man could smell like, Tony Stewart, Walgreens

