For those who have yet to read it, the 2012 Olympics list  of prohibited items is quite a funny diktat. At first, it looks like a typical bit of health and safety box ticking: no booze, no fireworks, no laser pointers, blah blah. Most of the stuff in the first half of the list is brought in by the kind of people whom it’s fair to say don’t particularly care for health and safety regulations. At least, I can’t remember the last time I headed down to Twickenham with a “sharpened comb”, a “bayonet” (what with it not being 1890) or some “CS gas”. Just in case, like.
But it’s the second half of the list whereupon things get interesting. Immediately, we see “excessive amounts of food”. Who defines “excessive”? My own definition wavers between “a big sandwich” and “an entire Domino’s pizza, three bottles of Lucozade and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s”, depending on whether or not I’m hungover. I guess the important thing is that if your definition tends towards the latter, then you can hit the world’s largest McDonald’s (1,500 seats!! No?) in the Olympic Park as hard as you like, thus helping the games bring us that economic boost we’ve all been promised. Cunning stuff.
But more to the point – “any objects or clothing bearing political statements or overt commercial identification intended for ‘ambush marketing’”. Again, the problem here is one of clarity. It seems that while Locog are quite happy with you wearing that banterific Inbetweeners “Pussay Patrol” t-shirt, there’s a clear question over your “Keep Calm and Smoke Weed” one. Is that too political? Will your Che Guevara t-shirt get you sent home, and if so, for what? For supporting communism? For espousing the 1958 removal of Fulgencio Batista? For championing the right to look like a tool? Reader, I wish I could tell you.
And as for “ambush marketing”, it seems unlikely anyone outside of the advertising industry (let’s be honest, this guff has their moronic paws all over it) understands this term. I know I don’t. The problem is that ever since clothes started getting logos, we’ve all become ambush marketers, in a way. Will I be a suspect on the grounds that when clothes shopping I just buy what the mannequins in Marks and Spencer are wearing? Is the complimentary “I’m an Amiga gamer and proud” hat I got in 1992 now acceptable? (My ex-girlfriend can answer this: apparently not). And while we're on the subject of hats, heaven forbid it's got a bit of a brim on it - "oversized hats" are strictly forbidden.
Those of us who regularly go to sports events are used to this arseclap. No doubt it kind of makes sense to the companies that implement it, and most of the time we – being British – shrug our shoulders, grumble and play along. The Olympics has taken it to a whole new level, a somewhat surreal, otherworldly level where, thanks to McDonald’s, you can only  order chips on the Olympic site if they’re accompanied by a fish. Ludicrous, you say? Well yes: we’re talking branding here, not sense.
The truth is that Locog know this sort of thing adds to any cynicism the public feels about the Games. But they also know that £750m in sponsorship is £750m in sponsorship. McDonald’s, Visa, and Cadbury can pretty much do what the hell they like. Apply that principle to the world outside the stadia, and suddenly it’s not so funny.
Here's the full list: