Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Football, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Sport, Wieden+Kennedy, World Cup
Once upon a time, Nottingham Forest were magic.
So magic, they were Kings of Europe. Twice in a row.
So magic, they had a song about it.
So magic, Adidas used them as proof of their football credentials in ads …
That team was amazing.
I even remember those boots.
But I must admit I don’t remember Adidas being the ‘science of sport’ – even though that is the most German sport tagline ever written – all I remember is that at my school, Adidas stood for All Day I Dream About Sex”.
Even though I probably didn’t even know what sex was back then,.
And while I still find it hard to accept my beloved team wore the football gear of the enemy – though I did try to get NIKE to sponsor them, once even including it as a recommendation in a strategy deck which was met by howling laughter – I accept it is nice to see at least one international brand recognised their incredible achievements.
But for all that, Adidas – and Nottingham Forest – will never beat Nike for this.
Still the best World Cup spot. Ever.
Unlikely ever to be beaten.
And trust me, we tried. Hard.
Which maybe says more about what clients want these days than creative ambition.
Maybe,
Putin’s evil acts in the Ukraine have obviously repulsed the World – even though, the World has contributed to this situation by their inaction over many years.
However it is the rise of conversations relating to nuclear war that has got everyone terrified.
I don’t mind admitting I have found it very triggering and it’s the most fearful I’ve ever been about another World War.
Of course, compared to the poor people in the Ukraine, it’s nothing – and that’s why they need our support and our commitment to making our governments responsible for righting wrongs and dealing with the Putin situation that actively enabled.
Nothing highlights the craziness of the times than this headline:
That this newspaper headline can exist again – in 2022 – is mindblowling. Almost as mind-blowing as the idea anyone can be ‘well prepared’ for a nuclear attack.
But while this ‘news’ should have put me in a terrified state, it actually managed to raise a smile because the reality is London goes to pieces when there’s an inch of snow so to suggest it could deal with an all out nuclear attack is actually hilarious.
So thank you Sadiq Khan for the smiles and fuck you Putin for the fear.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Brand Suicide, Colenso, Creative Brief, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Focus Groups, Honesty, Imagination, Insight, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Membership, Mischief, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, Relevance, Research, Resonance, Strategy
When I was living in Shanghai, I met a young guy who said to me,
“I think the Chinese government are rock n’ roll”.
Given I couldn’t imagine anyone less rock n’ roll, I asked why they said that. To which they replied:
“You told me rock n’ roll was about doing whatever you want to do, regardless what other people think. That’s the Chinese government”.
Mind. Blown.
Never in a million years would I consider the Communist Party rock n’ roll … and now that’s all I can think. I say this because recently I had another of these moments.
It was when I read this:
How amazing is that?!
Now whenever I talk to my friends named Tim, I keep imagining them as a moth.
Which brings me to the point of this post.
If you don’t leave space for conversations and understanding, you will miss out on these little gems of opinion. These things that can make you look at subject in a completely different way. That can take you to different place with even bigger possibilities than you could imagine.
And yet we – as an industry – aren’t leaving space for this.
We actually think getting into the real world is a hindrance.
Too messy. Too much time. Too many opinions.
So we actually advocate building creativity and brands from a weird sort of recipe book.
Where equal parts questionable data, brand assets and self-serving logic come together to make something that looks like a cake but generally tastes bloody awful.
Because we’d rather follow what everyone else does than create something everyone else wants.
Valuing attribution more than change.
Oh don’t get me wrong, I get the importance of all these things.
I agree and value their role in brand building and creativity.
But as I wrote a while back, it’s utterly bonkers that as an industry, we value the condiments of the meal more than the steak.
Recently, someone called me irresponsible for demanding my team spend time meeting, talking, listening and understanding people from all walks of life.
They literally used that word: Irresponsible!
Now I don’t mind admitting there’s many things I could be accused of being irresponsible for, but valuing the role culture has in liberating creativity and possibility isn’t one of them.
No wonder society is so bored of what we do.
No wonder brands have had to reframe bribery as loyalty.
Or membership.
Because while we think we have all the answers, culture has the interesting.
Filed under: Childhood, Dad, Daddyhood, England, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis
Today would have been my parents 58th wedding anniversary.
Amazing.
And while the reality is Dad died 23 years ago and Mum 7, they had a good marriage.
Yes there were some hard times along the way.
Some that still hurt deeply when I think of them.
As is often the case, they were brought on by stress triggered by a lack of money, health issues and/or family bullshit they were pulled into.
But while there are some moments that I wish could be erased forever, I was brought up in a house of love and support.
Love for each other.
Love for me.
Love for us.
As I said at both my parents funerals, I never wanted for their support or compassion and it was only as I grew older that I realised how lucky I am for that.
The photo above was taken at the Nottingham Registry Office where they got married.
They’d been living in London but came to Nottingham to be closer to my Dad’s family.
They were only supposed to be there for a few years – but you know how it is.
I always thought that must have been hard for my Mum.
Don’t get me wrong, she liked Nottingham … but she was Italian, had moved to London for adventure but met Dad, fell in love and then found herself in the Midlands, even further away from her family.
I think when I came along, it may have helped because she wouldn’t have wanted to raise me in central London and so Nottingham probably became quite a good place then.
She stayed there for a long time.
A lot longer than she had lived in Italy.
We had talked – prior to her death – if she wanted to move back to Italy.
It was a real consideration.
Dad had died. Long term neighbours had died or moved away. Her sister was alone in the family home back in Guardiagrele.
But it didn’t happen and now her ashes, like Dad’s, are scattered over their beloved garden. The garden that was my family home and always will be, despite eventually selling the house.
I’ve written about how hard that decision was.
How conflicted I was when it suddenly became mine.
But I think they would be happy how I handled it. Plus I have a beautiful jar of soil from that house with me. And by selling the incredibly generous gift of their inheritance, I was able to buy our family home in the UK. A home with a garden my parents would absolutely approve of.
I still remember the bizarre moment Mum and I went to register Dad’s death and we realised it was in the same place as where they got married.
It had a weird closed circle to it.
Similar to the fact Mum died in the same hospital where I was born.
I miss them. I regret that I didn’t really talk to them about these things.
Part of that was because I thought I’d have more time to do it but alas, Dad fell ill when I was just 24. And then I kept moving countries.
But I’m very glad they got married 58 years ago today.
Because they gave me a childhood and a family that was as special as they were.
Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad. I hope you’re holding hands and laughing at the silliness and joy your son and his family get up to.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Comment, Dad, Death, Family, Fatherhood, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis
A few weeks ago, I saw a tweet by the comedian, David Baddiel.
It was this.
It was late, but there was something about it that really touched me.
Of course, hearing a parent has died is always sad. And over the years, my stance on Mr Baddiel has gone from ‘annoying’ to ‘wonderful’. But I think it was the sight of the worn chair that got me. A reminder of a parent who preferred comfort over new. A father who saw the chair worn in rather than worn out. An extention of the parent rather than just another piece of furniture in the home.
I definitely related to that.
I still remember going into Mum’s bedroom after she died – the bedroom that my shared my entire childhood – and saw it was a bit worn out. Needed some care, some attention, some updating. But what’s interesting is that while I’d been in that room a million times, it was only then that I the condition. Because when my parents were in that room … in that bed … the whole room radiated love and life and all the worn paint and old carpet disappeared from view.
But I also know how important it is to hold on to some of that.
Getting rid of your parents belongings is devastating.
I definitely remember genuinely considering hiring a security guard to just sit outside the house so I could keep it exactly the way it was. Hell, I even tried to buy the home phone number from British Telecom, or whatever they’re called these days – so I would have a connection to my past … to my parents … forever.
Jill gently convinced me that wasn’t the best way to move forward. Reminded me that wouldn’t be what my parents would want. But she also knew I needed to keep a physical connection to them and that house … so she came up with a brilliant idea that I thought may help a man I don’t know, get through a terribly painful situation I do know all too well.
So I responded to him with this and went to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to my phone screen full of twitter notifications and saw this.
Thousands of likes.
Hundreds of comments.
A mass of retweets.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
And when I read the comments, every single one was positive.
No snark. No pisstaking. Just a mass of lovely, considerate, words. Which was more wonderful than I could ever have imagined, because as much as it’s nice to have something you said/did liked by so many, what made the biggest impact was so many people saying they now had a way to take their family and home with them, when their family and home are no longer there.
A bit of calm in the worst of storms.
And since I wrote this post, the number of people who liked it and commented on how this can help them deal with their grief has increased more and more.
So thank you Jill.
You helped not just make one of my hardest times, less dark, you have helped others see a way out of their darkest moment.