Once upon a time, I worked with a very talented creative from Mexico called Jorge.
He is the most amazing conceptual designer that I’ve ever worked with.
His history of work is incredible …
From the Coke Side of Life stuff to the Oreo Wonderfilled campaigns of the past.
Hell, I even wrote about some of his work before I even knew it was his work.
Everything he does has a strong sense for distinctive design and sophisticated craft.
He is also the person behind that picture at the top of this post.
Yep, a picture of a cover of a book about how much of an asshole I am.
And while I appreciate I can definitely be one, he isn’t calling me this because we didn’t like working together.
OK, so sometimes we argued, but generally we were a great team.
Hell, there are some meetings that have gone down into folklore. Or at least for us.
So why has he drawn that picture?
For one simple reason … I think he is a handsome bastard.
Actually, he’s not just any handsome bastard, he looks like that handsome bastard in Love Actually … Rodrigo Santoro.
This guy …
Look at him!!
How gorgeous is that.
OK, that’s not him, but it’s as good as being him.
Plus he’s charming too. OK, he can definitely be a bit of a prick [just ask his wonderful wife] but overall, he’s pretty awesome.
Anyway, because I thought he looked so much like AN INTERNATIONAL MOVIE STAR, I wanted to celebrate the fact … so I started getting some things made with his and Rodrigo’s face on it.
Badges.
Posters.
Packing tape.
That’s quite the compliment isn’t it?
Hell, I spent my own money on celebrating his face.
But did he like it? Did he bollocks.
He hated it.
He loathed it.
He felt it was an affront to his dignity.
To his talent.
Hence the book he made for my last birthday.
And while I get his point, it’s always the beautiful people who complain about being attractive isn’t it? Just like it’s only the 40 year olds who say “40 is the new 30”.
Try having a face like a dropped pie and a modicum of talent.
Yeah … try that Jorge and still be upset someone thinks you’re great.
Let me tell you. It doesn’t happen.
EVER.
And while I accept this post is a bit weird and may have a lot to do it being written at 4 in the morning while feeling utterly delirious, I am choosing to claim – and will stick to this argument, even if forced to appear in a court of law – that it proves something else.
Something the industry has always suspected, but never been able to confirm.
Creatives are weirdos. Thank god.
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I am so sorry Jorge. But at least I know Ana will find if funny.