Spiked: Opel Popel
The problem with testimonials is that they have to fit the brand. Ideally, they should fit well; if not, they have to fit somehow. The problem with Opel is that it’s an outdated car, just as Mercedes is a car for farmers.
Opels are driven by grandpas in hats, with a toilet paper roll on the hat rack. "Opel-Popel" used to be our image slogan. At most, those who could only get to the party in Mommy's Opel Corsa thought Opel was cool. At some point, however, even they bowed to peer pressure, left the vehicle with the flash just before the destination and walked the last few meters. Not everyone has to see it. Traumatized by this youthful experience, they tragically missed the only really cool Opel wave: the Opel Manta, with a foxtail on the antenna, a blonde on the passenger seat and rust stains on the driver's door. The latter from underarm sweat.
Now the grandpa-with-a-hat car wants to become a trendy vehicle. And it's doing so with, of all people, this year's winner of the trendiest of all competitions, the Eurovision Song Contest. "Lena's freshness is a perfect match for our cars," hopes an Opel spokesperson. I wish. Her freshness just doesn't fit Opel. The only thing about Lena Meyer-Landrut that fits Opel is her stiff family name. The 19-year-old didn't pass her driving test until the second attempt. That's perhaps likeable and definitely better than Mister Switzerland Jan Bühlmann, who as a testimonial for main sponsor Seat doesn't even have a driving license - but nevertheless has a clenched left hand in the slack
Stomach of the brand creators. So the brand ambassador smiles sweetly but a bit helplessly from a sky-blue Opel, as if to ask in the next moment: "And where's the steering wheel now?"
From dust and spaghetti
"Opel is not yet the number one hip, youthful brand," the brand ambassador recognizes crystal clear. "But you can make it so." To that end, she drags an Opel logo behind her on another subject, as if she'd stolen it from the junkyard. If that ever works out! Opel has already tried it twice: In the 1980s, Steffi Graf lolling on the Corsa hood, in the 1990s swimmer Franziska von Almsick on a sports car model. Franzi and Steffi were still halfway credible - a tennis player who uses her racket as a spaghetti strainer can also be trusted with an Opel Corsa.
Opel Switzerland had a better hand: They snatched up the newly crowned wrestling king Kilian Wenger as a rural brand hero. Wenger goes much better with dust, hat and toilet roll than Meyer-Landrut, even if he has sent Muni Arnold home again. With Wenger, the Opel image even shifts a bit in the direction of the peasant premium class Mercedes, simply because of the muscles. On top of that, the wrestling king admits without shame that his family has always driven Opels. That's what I'm saying.
For Opel, this advertising medium is a stroke of luck, but not in the service of a new image. When Wenger praises the "premium driver's seat with AGR seal of approval," "which relieves the back and spine on long journeys," nausea sets in. Kilian, is that you? Dear Opels, just give us back the Manta. The message would be clear, you wouldn't have a flat tire on the open road, and we could be groupies again.
Now the grandpa-with-a-hat car wants to become a trendy vehicle. And it's doing so with, of all people, this year's winner of the trendiest of all competitions, the Eurovision Song Contest. "Lena's freshness is a perfect match for our cars," hopes an Opel spokesperson. I wish. Her freshness just doesn't fit Opel. The only thing about Lena Meyer-Landrut that fits Opel is her stiff family name. The 19-year-old didn't pass her driving test until the second attempt. That's perhaps likeable and definitely better than Mister Switzerland Jan Bühlmann, who as a testimonial for main sponsor Seat doesn't even have a driving license - but nevertheless has a clenched left hand in the slack
Stomach of the brand creators. So the brand ambassador smiles sweetly but a bit helplessly from a sky-blue Opel, as if to ask in the next moment: "And where's the steering wheel now?"
From dust and spaghetti
"Opel is not yet the number one hip, youthful brand," the brand ambassador recognizes crystal clear. "But you can make it so." To that end, she drags an Opel logo behind her on another subject, as if she'd stolen it from the junkyard. If that ever works out! Opel has already tried it twice: In the 1980s, Steffi Graf lolling on the Corsa hood, in the 1990s swimmer Franziska von Almsick on a sports car model. Franzi and Steffi were still halfway credible - a tennis player who uses her racket as a spaghetti strainer can also be trusted with an Opel Corsa.
Opel Switzerland had a better hand: They snatched up the newly crowned wrestling king Kilian Wenger as a rural brand hero. Wenger goes much better with dust, hat and toilet roll than Meyer-Landrut, even if he has sent Muni Arnold home again. With Wenger, the Opel image even shifts a bit in the direction of the peasant premium class Mercedes, simply because of the muscles. On top of that, the wrestling king admits without shame that his family has always driven Opels. That's what I'm saying.
For Opel, this advertising medium is a stroke of luck, but not in the service of a new image. When Wenger praises the "premium driver's seat with AGR seal of approval," "which relieves the back and spine on long journeys," nausea sets in. Kilian, is that you? Dear Opels, just give us back the Manta. The message would be clear, you wouldn't have a flat tire on the open road, and we could be groupies again.
