We’ve all seen it. The silk pantsuit, that unmistakable pixie cut and signature laugh. Kris Jenner’s Shutterfly commercial is entrenched in my mind. I’ve tried running away from it, burying it in the backwoods, doing whatever I can to escape it, but it comes back every time in the dead of night. I’m haunted.
It starts out just fine. “Your family isn’t generic, your holiday card shouldn’t be either,” Jenner says with a smirk as she glides through a picturesque home. Then, it happens.
“That’s why I make mine at Shutterfly,” Jenner utters in a truly chilling three-second display.
The first time I heard it, I refused to believe my own ears. I thought there’s just no way. Well, unfortunately, I’ve heard this ad a few dozen times at this point and now it’s all I see when I close my eyes. Kris Jenner, a woman whose lack of real-world awareness may just rival Lucille Bluth, is hawking Shutterfly without any irony.
Does the veneer of authenticity matter at all anymore? There is simply no way Jenner makes her family’s Christmas card. Like, why are we pretending otherwise? The Kardashian family Christmas card is an institution, captured by their very own show. It’s the place the family lives out their dreams of starring in a Macy’s commercial—and where Kim infamously told Kourtney she’s the least exciting to look at.
They are not a family who grab a half-decent iPhone photo, pop open Shutterfly on their Dell desktop and just make do.
And there’s the issue. It’s not that Shutterfly is some insidious company she’s hawking. As far as Kardashian brand deals go, it’s perfectly milquetoast, really. In a sea of diet products and crypto scams, it might even be the most objectively moral company a Karjenner has endorsed.
But it’s a bold-faced lie and we know that. I can’t for even a second contort myself to believe Kris Jenner is designing her own Christmas card on Shutterfly. It’s so incredulous and expects us as an audience to be willfully obtuse. It’s already a stretch for me to believe she had ever heard of Shutterfly before getting the call to do this ad. I’m still not convinced she would know what Shutterfly is if I asked her right now.
Now, I have to admit. I’m not Kris Jenner and I have no access to the making of her family Christmas cards. It’s possible she has—somehow—used Shutterfly all these years. This paragraph is not here for legal reasons or anything. But, if someone were pondering a lawsuit, this is all alleged, in the words of resident gossip Deuxmoi.
After all, Jenner released a solo card this year featuring just her and boyfriend Corey Gamble alongside the ad. And, would you look at that—it’s a Shutterfly card. She deserves a clap or two for knowing to cover her bases there. She is the momager that built an empire after all. Kris Jenner knows better than to leave a loose end.
But what Jenner can’t replace, what will follow her for the rest of her life is the well-documented history of the family’s Christmas card. I know a Shutterfly when I see it. And the Kardashian aesthetic that has oscillated from Vanderpump Rules cast photo vibes to a Gap photoshoot is decidedly not filling the Hallmark Channel atmosphere Shutterfly embodies.
Still, I can’t fault Jenner too hard for taking on the ad. A gig’s a gig and let’s be real, if Shutterfly comes knocking with a check and all you have to do is pop on a pantsuit and pretend you make your card there, not many of us are saying no.
But the good people of Shutterfly should know better. The marketing team needs a complete revamp. How easy would it have been to have Kris Jenner be the spokesperson without pretending she uses the product? No one has ever wondered if Cecily Strong really uses Verizon just because she’s in a commercial. If she uses Metro PCS, good for her. I don’t care. But have some integrity.
Look at that cute little Old Navy ad with Jennifer Coolidge. She’s not out there pretending she’s whatever the Maxxinista-equivalent of an Old Navy fan is. She’s simply singing a song and promoting a brand as celebrities do in our commercial-driven, capitalistic society. And that’s okay.
It’s really so simple. It all comes back to that one sentence, that false endorsement—that’s where I draw the line.
