If you’re a birder and haven’t yet logged a sighting of the Nightingale of Kuala Lumpur, relax. The Nightingale of Kuala Lumpur is not, in fact, a bird. It’s the name of the most expensive dress ever made—the creation of celebrated Malaysian designer Faiyzali Abdullah. Made of yards of ruby silk and chiffon and adorned with Swarovski crystals and 751 genuine diamonds, the dress is valued at $30 million.

I know the holidays are waning, and you’ve probably stowed your own finery in the back of the closet for another year. But I can’t help taking one parting shot at the Christmas advertising season that was, and two big retailers that got a little overdressed this year.

It’s a sad fact that the number of successful high-end brands keeps dwindling and, therefore, cannot fully support the financial needs of today’s glut of celebrities. With no alternative (and taxes on seven or eight houses to pay), some celebrities were forced to go slumming this year, affiliating themselves with retail brands known primarily for low prices.

Follow me to Dressing Room One, where we find Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony Award winner Jennifer Hudson for Old Navy. Her spot is a video holiday card entitled simply, “Season’s Greetings from Old Navy with Jennifer Hudson.” If you watch playback on the security camera, you’ll see me wincing as I screened this commercial—mainly because I can still remember Old Navy’s wacky TV ads from two decades ago that were genuinely hip and cool, with surprise cameos by cult heroines like Morgan Fairchild. Check out her 2002 spot called, “The Denim Game”—a spot-on parody of the popular show “The Dating Game.” It’s the perfect tongue-in-chic and manages to elevate a brand that, then as now, is mainly known for cheap denim jeans and novelty t-shirts.

Hudson is a star, and in the right setting will shine like a diamond. But here she performs like an overwound Barbie, dishing up a level of camp usually reserved for drag shows. The energy is borderline frantic, using “fast and loud” as a tactic so hopefully nobody notices that there’s no real idea here, just a lot of style acting as a placeholder for substance. It’s another case of “Celebrity As Concept”—and you know by now that never flies with me. I also struggle with the idea that Jennifer Hudson would be caught dead shopping at Old Navy in the first place—no matter what kind of store discount they offer her. Even if the outfit she wore in this commercial bore the O.N. label, you can be sure that she incinerated it as soon as the commercial shoot wrapped to get rid of the evidence. 

Walk with me now down the line to the next dressing room, occupied by rapper Busta Rhymes for Walmart. (Actually, his given name was “Trevor George Smith Jr.” But due to the violent nature of the industry, any rapper foolish enough to hang onto a name like “Trevor” is no longer with us.) This commercial feels like the big “close of Act One” production number in a Christmas musical that never made it to Broadway. The chorus boys and girls look strangely like associates we’ve actually seen working in our local Walmart. (I’d hate to think they really are, and had agreed to do this commercial on the promise of a fifteen-cent-an-hour raise.)

I classify this commercial as tragically “hip”—a word you wouldn’t readily associate with Walmart, no matter how much star power and production values they put behind it. Busta and his gang all seem to be having so much fun. Is it possible that, among other things, Santa dropped an ample quantity of ecstasy down Busta’s chimney and the place is lit up with more than holiday lights? But my biggest beef here (or let’s call it my Beef Wellington—it is the holidays) is the same as the Old Navy spot: not a ghost of an idea—Christmas Past, Present, or Future. And anyone who buys the idea that this commercial—in even the most microscopic way—has anything whatsoever to do with your Walmart “CX” (customer experience) obviously hasn’t shopped there in a while (or ever). I can’t really believe that Busta shops there, either—or even gets the one-hour delivery they’re hyping at the end of the spot. Imagine a real-life delivery guy on a battery assist bicycle riding up in front of the Rhymes McMansion with an order of Legos and $49.99 JBL headphones. I’ll file that away with my other Christmas fantasies like Peace on Earth and Frosty the Snowman.        

Before you call me a hater, let’s be honest. The bottom-line reason we shop at either of these stores is our own bottom line: we want to save money. We buy our khakis at Old Navy instead of the Gap because unless our boss gave us an egregious holiday bonus, we’re just not spending $59.95 for those Gap “modern khakis in a relaxed fit.” We buy our eggs at Walmart because it helps us pretend we’re successfully managing our grocery budget in the wake of soaring food prices.

If I had one Christmas wish for Old Navy and Walmart this year, it’s that they realize who they are. Low price is not the most glamorous position in the retail sphere. But if low price is your thing, then own it. Wear it. If the real benefit to your consumers is that you save them money, then find a creative way to say that and stop trying to dress it up. Be who you are. Practice truth in advertising. You can apply all the lipstick you want. Even if it’s Chanel, a pig is still a pig.

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