Another image: What are they selling?

Okay, not exactly a challenge. They are selling sex. But, hey, the Lemon Girl and I are on vacation so I'm going with the easy-to-analyze stuff.

That said, that is an odd way to ride a horse and why a rocking horse instead of a real one? Is this "just for play". Well, if that is what a girl wants, yes! (There is also a not terribly subtle masturbation suggestion going on here but only for the girl who wants to see it; and there are a variety of different reasons why a girl might not want to see it.)

The image in question is a logo for Passionata, which is a line of lingerie produced by the Chantelle company. It's a slightly less expensive line than the flagship brand but still more expensive than most.

The intention, I think, is to be a bit girlier and more playful than the main line. There is less emphasis on seduction and more emphasis on the wearer's identity.We can see this in the text we find on their website:

Passionata, the gentle stimulation of the danger that comes from loving

Emphasizing sensual curves, making hearts beat wildly and kindling joie de vivre: Passionata ignites passion and unlocks the unexpected and improves the everyday life of all heroines. Passionata’s pink logo expresses the ambition of «Passion Maker»: a tiny pink heart that beats (very strongly!), a lucky charm or a mascot affixed on each label. Like a talisman to be worn close, very close to one’s heart…

Most virgins could legitimately claim aspire to be a Passionata or "passion maker" on those terms. In fact, the language and logo sort of suggests that this is more about being/becoming a  woman than about having sex. The sales pitch is more about being the [female] sex than having sex. Look at the language used here "a tiny pink heart", "lucky charm" and "mascot". There is almost a sense of high school here. At the very least, this stuff is probably aimed at young women who don't have a lot of sexual experience and are not looking for a serious partner just yet. (Which, by the way, is most of them.) It's aimed at women whose sexual identity is not that of a wife or even a girlfriend and who may just still have a stuffed animal on her bed. Sex is something that may or may not happen this time or any time soon. This is about who she wants to be and her underwear "expresses the ambition" and "unlocks the unexpected".

The various Passionata collections all have names that carry on this theme such as, "So Pretty", "Casual Sexy", "Charm", "Sexy Ruffles", "Love Me", "Promise" and, my favourite "Poupouido" (clearly meant to recall Betty Boop "Poo Poo ee do"). No one is going to expect you to be Lola Montes in this stuff and that is comforting. A girl buys this stuff to challenge herself a little but she is very careful about what she wants the challenge to be.

Compare and contrast with another Chantelle line, "Chantal Thomass":

Her universe could be defined by these words: fashion, boldness, humour, sophistication, glamour and impertinence, as found in her collections of lingerie.

The woman who reads that copy and buys feels pretty certain that she knows what she is doing.

Or, yet another Chantelle line, "Femilet":

Femilet offers a large range of confortable and quality products: lingerie, beachwear, warm underwear and accessories.

 The woman who buys that is over thirty and married, the key word being "warm".

Then there is Chantelle's biggest competitor in the Oh-so-French lingerie business:

The Aubade woman is at ease with her body, asserts her sensuality, and plays on her natural femininity. She is romantic, provocative, delicate, naughty, gentle, discreet, audacious, and elegant as well as knowing… She is the mistress of her seductive power, wanting to play with and Share it with her man, a willing victim to this game full of humour and seduction.

Putting their stuff on would be like showing up at the ski hill with all the best and newest equipment. People expect you to be good and really know what you are doing.

Here is the final thought: there isn't really that much difference between the actual lingerie. The Aubade stuff, as you would expect, is a bit more radio-active than the Chantelle, which is more romantic, and that romantic quality in the Chantelle is a tiny bit more adult than the more playful Passionata. One of my sisters the other day said, "We are romantics hemmed in by life's practicality." Well, by the time you are down to your bra and panties, life's practicality is some distance away; it is at least banished to the other room. All this stuff screams sex. Just knowing it was there, even though you can't see it, will do something to your brain whether you are the man wondering about or the woman wearing this lingerie.

The most important difference is what is going on between the ears of the woman who is wearing it. This stuff matters and that playful quality—somewhere between the nursery and the dorm room—is a good place to go to if your are preparing to be a lover. It is a way of expressing your ambition.

 (You never get this in Victoria's Secret or La Senza ads. There it is only the physical image that matters. There is an old line in music criticism that a really good composer makes as good use of the silence between the notes—of the time you spend anticipating the next note—as they do of the actually sounded notes. You'd think that would be even more obvious with sex where the silences between notes run so long. One of the reasons that France still has the cultural power it does so many years after its decline is that they get this while the Brits, Americans and Canadians do not.)