The word spread of Anna Nicole’s death faster than a firebomb. It was if someone really important, like a president, had died. My office mates huddled around screens searching for clues to the cause, many suspecting suicide given the recent death of her son. Chatter about her weight fluctuations, her marriage to the old tycoon, her soft porn shows, floated above the cubes. Some remembered her Guess jean ads and even her Playboy spreads. The evening news lead with her story as if this was indeed the biggest story of the day. Meanwhile, I crafted my own Post-like headline “Ditzy Diva Dies” with the sub-head “Why do we care?”
Anna Nicole was a brand. An amazingly non-PC brand in an increasingly PC-world. Anna was flamboyant, living by the creed “if you’ve got it, flaunt it” and flaunt it she did. After stripping for Playboy, she moved into revealing territory as a model for wannabe naughty Guess jeans. She wasn’t the prettiest model. She was simply big. Big boobs. Big personality. Big ditz. Big. She didn’t just marry a rich guy, she married an incredibly rich, incredibly old guy who was practically near death when she carried him to the alter. And that was big news. Then her husband died and his family sued. That was big news too though it wasn’t a big surprise. That came when the Supreme Court (man I would have paid money to be in the Supreme Court when she strolled in and chatted up the big judges) agreed to hear her case and then agreed that it should be re-opened. Anne Nicole, the brand, continued to live a “big” life, jumping from tabloid headline to tabloid headline. It was like watching train tracks knowing that there would be a wreck, a huge multi-car, get out the big typeface, call the National Guard, train wreck.
Yet we watched, waiting for each train wreck, forgiving any transgressions, practically reveling in her mis-adventures. Anna Nicole was a fantasy, no doubt offensive to some and inspiring to others. She didn’t seem to care what people thought of her as long as they thought of her. As a brand, she seemed to made of Teflon. Nothing bad really stuck. It simply fell off her like a terry cloth robe. And once naked she could emerge yet again ready to inspire another tabloid.
So, why does MFG care about Anna Nicole? Anna was a celebrated free spirit. She kept us engaged by living a big, outrageous ditzy life. Had we forced a must-be-PC attitude upon Nicole, no one, and certainly not the media, would have cared a hoot about her hooters. Anna Nicole cut through by being different, by being outrageous, by not being afraid of offending someone with different values than hers. Shouldn’t brands be afforded some of this freedom? Goodbye Anna Nicole, we miss you already.