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Still, glancing again at the advertisement, the boys' attitudes could be interpreted as totally indifferent to the advertiser's honorable intentions of incorporating a bisexual perspective. For all the male models appear to know, it could have been a hungry warthog that snuggled onto the sofa with them—which is an admittedly rare occurrence at most high-fashion photo sessions since the phacochoerus africanus require union tutors when they're on the set and are therefore not considered cost effective.
Additionally, I cannot ignore the fact that, even if the female had not been present, it's obvious the three male models were either too stoned or too stupid to grasp the concept that they would be enjoying each other's company far more efficiently—and I know this from personal experience—had they also, oh... removed their pants. Yes, the photograph is, after all, an advertisement for designer jeans, but the product could have just as easily been displayed in a number of other flattering positions, such as thrown artistically over an arm of the sofa or in an abstract jumble on the carpet—the labels being prominently displayed, of course.
To be completely fair, though, perhaps there's yet another way to view this photographic composition. For example, it could be that the female element was purposely included in the layout not as a bisexual feature, but simply in order to supply some generous plausible deniability to men and boys who may not yet be completely comfortable with their sexuality. In this sense, the design of the advertisement could simply be providing a face-saving component should a not-so-out-of-the-closet individual be unexpectedly observed viewing the image.
"Dude! Are you checking out that magazine ad, which clearly depicts a homoerotic composition of pretty young men in the throes of a sexually charged asbestos-smoking binge?"
"Uh... you've got it all wrong, man! I was only examining the topless chick with the strategically obscured bosoms."
"Oh, right! I can see that now. Look, she's wearing a puka shell anklet!"
"That's hot."
"Golly. It sure is."
"Hey! Wanna wrestle?"
"You bet!"
As I'm sure most people in the business of corporate advertising would assert, there are undoubtedly a lot of challenges innate to the promotion of products that might be equally desirable to homosexual as well as heterosexual consumers, and I have not even addressed the blatant lack of aspects that might encompass the sensibilities of lesbian and transgendered individuals—another hot-button issue, to be sure. The marketing professionals at Abercrombie & Fitch would, I'd imagine, be well aware of such conflicts of perception and, dare I suggest, might have been called upon to supply the designers of the Calvin Klein Jeans campaign with a few pointers. For instance, an assortment of brilliantly devised photographs produced by Abercrombie & Fitch manage to evoke an irrefutably sexual tone without even revealing whether the model is indeed a male or a female. The photographs depict shirtless models, true, but they're cropped from just above the stomach down to just above the knees. The models, judging from what is actually visible, are completely hairless thereby adequately providing plausible deniability only through the most subtle and respectable of measures.
"Dude, is that a dude?"
"Well... all I see is a tone and hairless midriff, which could be considered uncommon for a dude."
"Then it might not be a dude?"
"Right."
"Awesome. Hey, wanna do some shopping?"
"Totally! I've been dying for a nice puka shell anklet."
