Quick, get your Mom Bag!

Let's fill 'er up.

This utter beaut of an ad was forwarded to me by an In Pursuit reader, something I highly recommend and encourage. Truly, nothing makes me happier than shitty ads attempting to sell mothers stuff they usually don’t need predicated on flattened mommy stereotypes. Whether we’re Busy Moms™, Trendy Moms™, or Tough Mothers™, nothing makes us feel more seen than an ad addressed to our unique, individual selves!!!

“Give Mom the gift of more space!” Fine. Sure. Harmless enough. Slightly grossed out by the universalizing of “Mom” (versus, for example, “your mom”) but it’s a relatively G-rated offense.

First pressing question. What the FUCK is a “mom bag?” Is this a thing? Has a single person reading this ever heard that phrase? I’m familiar with the largely pointless invention of marketers known as the “diaper bag,” but it is (to my knowledge!!!!) the only mom-specific bag I know of? Which, now that I’m considering it, is really due to a shocking failure of imagination on the part of marketers to moms everywhere.

All of these are actually the same thing! They’re all BAGS.

Also, are mothers in the habit of aimlessly and mindlessly “filling” our “mom bags” just to . . . fill them? Are we like chipmunks frantically combing the forest floor for acorns and stuffing them into our cheek pockets simply because we’re chipmunks and hardwired to behave as such? Except we’re running around our homes and cramming our “mom bags” full of throw pillows, socks, and pepper grinders? Because we’re moms and moms be filling their mom bags? Is “filling mom bags” the solution to the mystery of what in the world new mommies do during their luxurious vacations sometimes known as unpaid maternity leaves?! Finally, some answers!

Next, of course, is the “She Shed.” I will go out on a limb and dare to boldly say that throwing a gendered descriptor in front of ANY sort of room or building or BAG is fucking unnecessary and inane. “Man Shed” is silly. “Man Cave” is sillier if more evocative. And “She Shed” is a nonsensical, half-baked attempt at gendered shed inclusivity??? Or maybe whoever named it just can’t resist alliteration. If we must name a lean-to, greenhouse, tent, lighthouse, or shack occupied primarily by a woman anything, can we just call it a Virginia Woolf?

As with the use of the word “filling” in regards to “mom bags,” I find myself yet again distracted by the ways in which Junkluggers imagine women utilizing their insultingly named spaces. Presumably, a space designated for a single person is so designated so that person can do something specific in the space? Why isn’t “Mom” working in her “She Shed” or painting or reading or dog grooming or making phone calls or exercising or pruning tiny bonsai trees or hosting meetings or meditating or what-the-fuck-ever. Why is she instead “tucking” “junk” away? Bewildering. Poor character development. First she’s filling mom bags unprovoked and now she’s “tucking junk?” I don’t understand her motivations. “Mom” simply isn’t a fully realized character and as such, I can’t empathize with her junk-collecting plight, which means I certainly can’t be moved to give “Mom” (or anyone else!) the “gift” of Junkluggers.

While I’m sorry to say that the crackerjack market researchers over at Junkluggers HQ have failed to create a fully fleshed out character, I do think they’ve stumbled over one central truth: the fact that “Mom” is relentlessly pressured to spend money on junk of pretty much every kind.

Um, I’m sorry, but who exactly is “your Mom?” Are we supposed to buy the gift of Junkluggers for both “Mom” and “your Mom?” Does “your Mom” also struggle with Mary Poppins-ing her “mom bag?” Does “Mom” like her or is she the villain? Is Junkluggers trying to introduce dual protagonists? This audience member needs some hand holding.

I’m charmed that Junkluggers has the audacity to claim they’re doing some sort of essential cleansing of the soul by pointing out that they’re not just ridding “your Mom’s” home of junk, but also her LIFE. Quite a claim! And a poetic one at that!

Cheers to tax-deductible receipts, something me and every mom I know are forever begging our loved ones for, and wow LOVE the invocation of the nagging killjoy maternal stereotype by referencing “brownie points.” That’s how relationships with “your Mom” work, right? You passive aggressively tell her you think she’s an irrational, unhinged collector of JUNK (and compulsive filler of “mom bags”) by giving her a gift certificate to Junkluggers (ie: “the best present ever”) not to bring her joy or make her feel loved or to indicate that you know and understand her as fully dimensional human being, but to GET BROWNIE POINTS from the no-fun harpy who may or may not have created your actual flesh and bones from her actual flesh and bones.

ASPIRATIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!