Ferrero Rocher -The Ambassador Spoils Us
Nobody really likes them and you get them every Christmas, but somehow Ferrero Rocher exude the aspirations of middle-class housewives everywhere with their gold wrappers and ability to be stacked into pyramids. I have a friend who once mentioned that she was enjoying a particular Ferrero Rocher only to be given an entire box every Christmas for the rest of her life. She never had the heart to tell her mother that she went off them about twenty years ago.
I always think of “The Good Life” when I see these chocolates. Excellent taste from the 1970′s. This advert epitomised the wannabe aspect of these chocolates. Apparently Ferrero Rocher make you into an international good-o despite the fact that they have never been within 100 miles of an aristocrat.
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Always always the presents from those who couldn’t be bothered really to think were the box of ghastly Ferrero Rocher or, even more annoyingly, a bottle of Oil of Olay/Ulay (it changed its name!). The first implies you too are an arriviste social-climbing wannabe, the second that you are a frazzled old frump who needs her face lifting.
I expect blokes would say socks and handkerchiefs are the same. Or annoying sets of golf tees. Or some unknown aftershave. But no doubt they will tell us.
Christmas is over and we didn’t get even one Ferrero Rocher: thank goodness!