Companies Love Misery
Maybe She’s Born With It; Maybe It’s Chemically Induced Stomach Paralysis
I simply cannot get enough of the YouTube advertisements for Hers Weight Loss pills (“Science backed, holistically designed”). Weight loss never looked so effortless, so chic, so fun!
Hers pills appear to come in three trendy colors, and exist in a universe where everyone wears espadrilles and is surrounded by flourishing potted plants. The ladies that advertise them say things like, “I was eating healthy and working out every day; nothing seemed to help.” And then the camera pans to her hand, holding a pink pastille with the word “Hers” stamped on it in a delightfully curly-yet-minimalist font. Then a new, slimmer version of the lady—with a new, much better haircut—appears, shaking her denim-clad, now acceptably sized-8 booty to a peppy electro-pop beat.
What happens in between is unclear, but based on other gripping pharmaceutical lore we can safely infer that Hers pills release microscopic, espadrille-clad female soldiers who attack the wicked fat cells and stab them to death with tiny Estée Lauder nail scissors.
I did a little snooping around online to find out more about the pros and cons of Hers. There are many pros, and—according to most medical journals—almost no cons, though I did find this very informative quote from Dr. Chun-Su Yuan of the University of Chicago:
“If…we find out years later that there are bad side effects, it could be a real issue.”
Sounds like a lot of anti-femme fear mongering to me! Nothing as aesthetically branded as Hers could possibly produce “bad side effects.” Look at the name alone. Hers ads specifically point out that the product uses the same ingredient as Ozempic, but unlike that medication, which sounds like the name of a minor Underworld deity (Ozempic—god of mildew and head lice), Hers doesn’t use a creepy, threatening name. Their name expresses autonomy and ownership, while also acknowledging that girls just want to have fun. Hers could be scented body-butter, lavender-infused kombucha, organic cotton lingerie…the fact that it’s a weight-loss pill is practically incidental, and completely non-threatening.
But I don’t just love Hers for their commitment to aesthetic charm, I also appreciate their ability to tell hard truths. During the Super Bowl this year, Hers ran an ad in which they boldly excoriated The System for perpetrating the obesity epidemic in America. Against a montage of cheeseburgers, ominous headlines, and—intriguingly—wildebeests, the narrator rattles off disturbing statistics and denounces the nameless machine that is keeping Americans “sick and stuck.” Preach it, sister! Sick and stuck is right—but no longer. Not with Hers.
Just look at this illuminating real-life excerpt from the Hers FAQ page.
Q. How long do I have to stay on medication?
A. Medication is a long-term use weight loss treatment not meant for short-term use. When you stop taking it, the triggers that previously drove unhealthy eating behaviors may return.
That’s “forever,” in laymen terms. But if that smacks of “sick and stuck” to you, don’t worry, people! Unlike other pharmaceutical drugs that create dependence and trap consumers in an expensive, inescapable cycle, Hers wraps users in an ergonomic embrace for the negligible sum of $299 per month. If that’s not enough to convince you to trust Hers with your health journey, I hope these stirring words from Dan Kenger, their Chief Design Officer, will do the trick:
“If people…understand that we’re a cool-looking brand that that is modern and understands how people want to deal with these conditions today, I think that’s the win for us.”
That’s right! Dr. Chun-Su Yuan can back the heck off with his “bad side effects,” because the right choice for weight-loss is clear as day—and cute as a button.
—C.C.
I think in a different generation the same people marketing HERS and HIMS would be poets who live with and summer in Tuscany with their mother and say things like “My life is my art.”