All because the lady loves nostalgic advertising

Cadbury is searching for a new Milk Tray Man to dress in black and make unsolicited visits to the homes of single women, leaving behind a box of chocolates and a business card with his silhouette on it. Of such dreams the 1980s were made.

Its hunt for the perfect stunt-loving chocolate courier is just the latest example of a once much-adored brand harking back to the advertising triumphs of its past in the fervent hope that it will imbue the product itself with nostalgic affection.

In its contribution to the campaign, Cadbury Ireland took the trouble to survey more than 500 Irish women for their thoughts on who should be the next Milk Tray Man. The top answer (with 24 per cent of the vote) was Jamie Dornan, the actor whose two most famous roles are a sadist with stalker tendencies called Christian and a "family man" serial killer called Paul.

He’s the perfect choice on so many levels.

Sadly, he's unlikely to be available. But in any case, the first stage of any serious casting process is not to consult the fickle public but to look at the character on the page. Who was the Milk Tray Man? What was his motivation?

In his first appearance, in 1968, he was conceived as the James Bond of chocolate, licensed to give you Type 2 diabetes. He was enigmatic, he was daring, he was allergic to front doors. He wore gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints.

He had tragically convinced himself that everything he did was all because the lady loved Milk Tray.

To date, the character has featured in 23 ads and six actors have donned the black polo neck. I once met one of them, James Coombes, at a press night in a Sheffield bar, and he was surprisingly chatty, but alas he had no confectionery on him – not even a Hazelnut Swirl.

Coombes is now fronting a Cadbury ad in which he introduces its mission to find his successor before leaping out a window. Aspiring man-spreaders aged 18-plus can apply or nominate someone else by uploading their best mugshot and vital details to Newmilktrayman.com.

Before this latest wheeze, the Milk Tray Man hadn’t been on air for 13 years, but a quick straw poll suggests strong recall of his trademark moves. “Is that the bloke who breaks into your gaff in the middle of the night? Never left me anything,” said one embittered co-worker. “It’s a bit rapey when you consider it fully, but the chocolates are rather nice,” messaged a friend.

Note: the praise came before the sorry news arrived that the Exotic (aka Turkish) Delight has been replaced in this year’s centenary selection by an “Apple Crunch”.

Younger viewers alarmed by Cadbury’s take on the prevailing gender relations of decades past may be assured that advertisers’ idea of romantic gestures weren’t always so macho.

Milk Tray Man’s relationships with the lucky lady recipients of his unorthodox delivery techniques were the total opposite of the encounters enjoyed by the Nescafé Gold Blend couple, for example. They were all polite knocks on doors followed by flirtatious staring contests over the safe, warm comfort of a cup of coffee.

Milk Tray Man had no need for conversation, dinner parties or eye contact. The equally mute women in his life wafted about alone in white silk, forever only one bubble bath away from settling for a Flake. The harnessed intruder was a man of action. He came, he deposited the goods, he exited out the skylight into the waiting helicopter.

Times have changed, as has the jobs market, and these days even fictional iconic advertising figures must be multi- skilled: Cadbury owner Mondelez has suggested that the new Milk Tray Man (or woman, for women can apply) will be "thoughtful as well as adventurous".

This presumably means the next hero – or heroine – won’t be doing any breaking and entering unless it’s part of some kind of pre-agreed role play.

But exactly how “modern” he appears in his next incarnation is beside the point, as this marketing campaign feels less about the finished advertisement than it is about the social media-enabled “engagement” with the public that takes place along the way.

Apply for this, vote for that, “like” the other thing. It’s exhausting – enough to make me crave the days when ads just arrived, mysteriously, without consultation. That was the great thing about Milk Tray Man. He did all the work.