The subject of this opprobrium was a map of Czechoslovakia on which arrows had been superimposed, as if tracing the path of an advancing army. This image was captioned by the words "The great spring offensive" and readers were encouraged to "launch an attack". Given this year marks the 60th anniversary of Hitler's invasion of Czechoslovakia, and that the arrows apparently followed the path taken by his troops, "offensive" describes the advertisement all to well, and the wrath it engendered can easily be imagined. When car makers' publicity goes awry, it often makes the news. There is a wider media sensitivity to ads that flag up the performance of certain models, and accusations are bandied about that idiots are being encouraged to drive too fast. Sometimes the copy is drooling and crass, but equally, certain phrases or basic information can be picked up and used to beat the car industry over the head. On other occasions, vehicle producers seem to indulge in public self flagellation, and many are still prone to sudden attacks of sexism. The recent Citroen Xsara promotion showing model Claudia Schiffer undressing is a case in point. Citroen will doubtless plead irony, but boiled down to their basic elements, these ads represent the umpteenth variation on the ancient theme of car and scantily clad women. The campaign attracted the attention of the Advertising Standards Authority, but working on the principle that this wasn't necessarily bad publicity, Citroen might not be entirely unhappy about the turn of events. However, how will the ad be seen in a few years time? Equally, will the current Renault Clio campaign, involving a smug looking man hurling a small Renault round a damp beach while a slinky French woman fiddles with a tape measure and makes double entendres about why size matters, have the same resonance as the famed Nicole and Papa series? Overall, things have improved in the past 30 years, and even the Citroen ad is a model of sophistication compared with some 1970s offerings; one Harold Wilson-era tyre maker's ad promised male buyers that "the grooviest chicks" would be attracted by its sexy tread patterns. When Ford introduced the Mk3 Ford Cortina, with its coke bottle styling and sweep away dashboard, they made a now hilarious promotional film in which a young woman wearing huge boots and a tiny skirt simpered and squirmed in a Mk3's passenger seat, while her sideburned beau clasped his gearstick in a manly fashion. The voice-over extolled the Ford's various technical features and explained that "boot girl" wouldn't understand what they were, but would be impressed by its fixtures and fittings. A few years later Fiat ran a poster campaign for the Fiat 127 Sport, which contained a catchline that went something like: "If this car was a woman, it would get its bottom pinched." Even in 1978 this was a bit near the knuckle, and the graffiti artist who corrupted one poster with the riposte "If this woman was a car, she'd run you down", gained a permanent place in advertising folklore. When Fiat introduced its Croma big saloon in the 1980s, it came up with a print ad involving an illustration that appeared to show a giant, futuristic Christmas tree bauble suspended in a strange parallel universe. The text suggested that Croma owners would enter a different world. The inexplicable result was picked up by a columnist in Campaign magazine, the ad industry bible, who flagged it up as a good example of how not to do an ad. Its impact was duly matched by the Croma's British sales performance. The recent spate of Rover television commercials hasn't exactly won it many friends either. After doggedly perusing a tweedy, quality image with some success (remember "Above all, it's a Rover?"), the company decided what was needed to sell cars with chrome grilles and wood cappings were wacky camera angles, night clubbing nymphets with navel studs and voice overs by Cockney actor Phil Daniels. Given the Rover's wider travails, these advertisements seemed only to highlight the confusion surrounding the company. Sometimes car makers can be clouted by outside forces. The line "Even standing still it's moving" was a neat example of the copywriter's art applied to the Citroen Xantia, but this was cruelly undermined when it was discovered that early examples had a handbrake design fault that could mean they moved when owners didn't want them to. In the early 1970s, Vauxhall had a reputation for making cars that oxidised alarmingly quickly, which made a period promotional film extolling the virtues of its anti corrosion treatments seem comic and poignant with hindsight. Of course some car related campaigns work extremely well. The massed ranks of babies used to promote the Vauxhall Astra created an arresting image, and some useful "how did they make that?" style publicity - although there was comment that the ad resembled a small person's Nuremberg rally. Audi and BMW are past masters at avoiding promotional clunkers, the Fiat Punto ads have revived the career of 1960s crooner Andy Williams (more free publicity here), and the big budget commercials used to promote the Peugeot 405 and its 406 replacement are regarded as classics of their kind. Gone are the days when car makers made claims for their cars that were either outrageous or just plain silly. When the wedge shaped Austin Princess was given a mid life engineering workover, it was promoted as "the most civilised car in Britain", an epithet that the Princess, whatever its virtues, clearly didn't deserve. As for a car advert that spoke unconscious truth, perhaps first prize should go to a British Leyland effort for the Morris Marina. This featured a picture of the car, underneath which was written: "Style; it's hard to define, but easy to recognise." Quite!