British Leyland was a – surprise, surprise – British car manufacturer formed in the late 60’s.
As you can see, they made a huge array of cars but the joke was they weren’t very well made.
If I remember rightly, there was a joke that said:
“Buy British … they fall apart more quickly so you can buy a proper car”.
I don’t know if that was true – though the way British manufacturing has fallen by the wayside, suggests there could be some truth to it – but I do know I thought the TR7 and MGB, the two cars at the top of the pile, were cool.
But let’s look at that ad for a moment.
Cramming four different models of vehicle on a single page is bad enough. But when it has been art directed to look like they’re all on top of each other – resembling a scene from a scrapyard – is hardly the best way to sell ‘British’.
And they are selling ‘British’ because if you look at the very bottom of the ad, you see it’s got a New Jersey address, which suggests this ad was for the US market.
While I get the reason they would want to do that [the US market was huge and the amount of ‘foreign cars’ available at that time was small] I don’t know if that image would make the average American want to give up their GM or Chrysler … especially when the justification British Leyland have for ownership is ‘their appeal is reflected in their recent sales performance’.
Hahahahahahahahaha.
What makes it worse are those words associated with each model.
Bold.
Lively.
Practical.
Legendary.
It all just smacks of early brand consultant bollocks doesn’t it.
And while I kind of get why they chose those words – though labelling the Jag, ‘a legend’, somehow makes it feel old rather than cool – I can’t help feel sorry for the Marina, tagged ‘practical’.
At least those other models have words that suggest some element of energy and dynamism to them, but ‘practical’ just sounds like they’re trying to say ‘shit’ in a more polite way.
To be fair, they’re right. It was shit.
My Dad had – for a short while – a Marina.
In mustard yellow and brown.
It was utterly horrific.
Even though his was the ‘fastback’ model, I still remember being utterly embarrassed by it.
The colour, The shape. The everything.
I was so glad when he got rid of it, though I have a horrible feeling he changed it for another yellow car – this time a Fiat 128 – but at least that had 4 doors, which made it feel a step up.
But imagine how a Jag owner would feel after spending thousands on their car, only to see that piece of Marina engineering shit was ‘on top’ of their premium priced motor.
British Leyland always seemed to have a knack of fucking things up.
Continually chasing others success with bad interpretations of their own.
It’s a bit like small film studios …. who on seeing another movies success, launch a tsunami of similar themed films, all with names that are derivatives of the original, in the hope people may get confused and see their’s instead.
British Leyland totally adopted this strategy.
The TR7 was the Fiat X/19
The Marina was the Ford Cortina
And in 1980, the Mini Metro was their version of the Mini.
Oh my god, I remember the launch of that car.
It was heralded as the pinnacle of the British car industry and launched with one of the most jingoistic ads you’ll ever see.
Did you see it?
Jesus christ … it’s like it was written by the Far Right.
Or the Daily Mail.
I still remember when it got unveiled and just thinking, “it looks shit”.
Well, while it didn’t end up ‘taking over the world’, it was successful in the UK and even saved British Leyland from bankruptcy – for a while – but what it all ends up reminding me is how many companies forget that just because something is successful in one country doesn’t mean it will work in another.
I’ve seen – and worked in – too many organisations who think they are the best in the World.
That their worst is better than everyone else’s best.
That sort of thinking is a recipe for disaster.
Not just in terms of encouraging laziness, but it’s one thing to think you’re good, but it’s another thing altogether to think everyone else is just a lesser version of you.
The amount of companies I saw crash and burn in China was amazing.
Thinking that by simply being ‘Western’, they would be appealing.
Maybe that worked before, but what they failed to realise is that in a nation where everything said something about you, it quickly became the most brand literate nation on the planet.
The old premise remains.
If you want others to respect you, respect them … and it starts by not just trying to sell something because it convenient to you.
Amazing how few people still seem to understand that.
Years ago, I was asked the title of this post by an industry journalist.
I replied with, “it would say I was a prick”.
Given a bunch of people in the industry – not to mention my mates – have personalised number plates, it didn’t go down very well, however compared to this, they’re all saints.
Yep, that’s a real number plate.
Better yet, it’s not even a personalised one. [Someone checked]
That is the number plate the DVLC gave the car.
Now I appreciate that maybe you wouldn’t immediately see the perv potential of PU51BAD … but when it’s written out as PU51 BAD, you’d have to be Stevie Wonder to not see it.
And yet the owner of this Volvo – not sure if it’s a male, but a male was driving it – is happily driving around the UK with it.
Why? Surely they know what they’re doing?
Hell, it seems they even made sure the number plate clearly conveys its questionable words.
Surely they realise the only people who wouldn’t find this cringe worthy are 16 year old boys.
Or maybe I’ve got it wrong.
Given the image of the typical Volvo driver – especially the old Volvo driver – maybe this has given them the bit of an edge they’ve been craving for years.
No longer are they the responsible, safe, family man/woman driver … now they’re sexpests of the most public order.
And to think, Volvo spent untold billions to shed their ‘safe and boring’ persona when all they needed to do was get a perv numberplate.
Well as we all know, German cars are well known for their quality of engineering, but recently I saw something that showed me it’s not just engineering where they pay attention to detail.
Have a look at this …
Can you see?
It’s the colour of the screws.
Where most cars have 4 yellow screws in each corner of the rear number plate, Audi have used 2 – one black, one yellow – placed in the middle of the number plate and designed to make sure they perfectly match with the area they’re screwing into.
Black to match the colour of the letter of the registration number.
Yellow to match the background of the rear registration number.
It’s an incredibly small thing, but if they care about that, you can be sure they care about every detail in the car.
Which helps reinforce why German manufacturing is so highly revered.
I wrote about an old car ad recently, but I recently saw another one that reinforced how far that category of advertising has fallen over the years.
Look at it.
Ridiculous.
Noticeable.
Full of charm and character.
Pretty much sums up the 2CV.
When was the last time you saw a car ad like that?
Hell, when was the last time you saw any car ad that made you give a shit, fullstop?
Sure there’s Wieden’s – and one of my absolute faves – Born of Fire for Chrysler and BBH’s wonderful Audi Clowns … but they are the absolute exception in a World dominated with ‘aspirational lifestyle’ imagery, topped with a bland, meaningless version of Just Do It as an endline.
And yet, that seems to be all car manufacturers want to spout – which is weird for a whole host of reasons.
One is that the future of the category is under severe threat by a generation who not only favour other options, but are increasingly not even bothering to learn to drive.
Second is the World is waking up to the environmental damage cars do and yet the infrastructure for the alternative – electric vehicles – is still insanely poor.
Finally is the fact that companies are actively pushing to lower salaries and full-time staff while increasing zero hour contracts, so who the hell do they think will be able to afford the cars they make anyway?
All in all, the category is crying out for someone who will disrupt the industry.
From ownership to running costs to marketing and everything in-between.
There’s a couple of companies exploring the possibilities … Volvo in particular are being pragmatic in these spaces … but even that might not be enough when the car manufacturers talk to the same [old] people, in the same places, with the same premise.
The last time I saw a long term brand idea for a car manufacturer that genuinely injected freshness and authenticity into the category through their work was Crispin’s ‘Mini’ … and that was back in 2002!!!
So while I hate looking backward and think most of the industries problems are because they are obsessed with ‘progressing’ through the rear view mirror, where car ads are concerned, they might do themselves a favour if they chose reverse gear.
So I was looking through a bunch of old D&AD annuals and one thing that struck me was how brilliant print and outdoor ads once were.
Clear.
Powerful.
Crafted specifically for that medium.
But today, in these over-rational, client-directive days, they’ve become nothing more than brochures for product features.
OK, there’s still some that are fighting for the medium – there’s the McDonald’s work that recently came out of Leo Burnett London [which many people are hating on without realising their arguments often reinforce why they are so good] and Uncommon are using print and billboards in a way that reclaims their glory days – but generally, they’re a shadow of their previous self.
Which is why I like these Tesla ads that have recently come out …
Uses the medium to convey a product truth … albeit in a mischievous way.
OK, so if I was being a dick, I could say that any electric car company could do this and their logo is still the most horrific, dated design I’ve seen in a long time … but it makes you smile, embraces the slightly cheeky tone of the brand, reminds people of some benefits they may not realises and doesn’t use the same ‘aspirational lifestyle imagery’ most car brands like to use.
Which makes me think print isn’t dead, it’s our imagination on how to use it that might be.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand Suicide, Cars, China, Comment, Consultants, Creativity, Culture, Differentiation, Distinction, England, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Positioning
Recently I saw this ad for British Leyland cars.
British Leyland was a – surprise, surprise – British car manufacturer formed in the late 60’s.
As you can see, they made a huge array of cars but the joke was they weren’t very well made.
If I remember rightly, there was a joke that said:
“Buy British … they fall apart more quickly so you can buy a proper car”.
I don’t know if that was true – though the way British manufacturing has fallen by the wayside, suggests there could be some truth to it – but I do know I thought the TR7 and MGB, the two cars at the top of the pile, were cool.
But let’s look at that ad for a moment.
Cramming four different models of vehicle on a single page is bad enough. But when it has been art directed to look like they’re all on top of each other – resembling a scene from a scrapyard – is hardly the best way to sell ‘British’.
And they are selling ‘British’ because if you look at the very bottom of the ad, you see it’s got a New Jersey address, which suggests this ad was for the US market.
While I get the reason they would want to do that [the US market was huge and the amount of ‘foreign cars’ available at that time was small] I don’t know if that image would make the average American want to give up their GM or Chrysler … especially when the justification British Leyland have for ownership is ‘their appeal is reflected in their recent sales performance’.
Hahahahahahahahaha.
What makes it worse are those words associated with each model.
Bold.
Lively.
Practical.
Legendary.
It all just smacks of early brand consultant bollocks doesn’t it.
And while I kind of get why they chose those words – though labelling the Jag, ‘a legend’, somehow makes it feel old rather than cool – I can’t help feel sorry for the Marina, tagged ‘practical’.
At least those other models have words that suggest some element of energy and dynamism to them, but ‘practical’ just sounds like they’re trying to say ‘shit’ in a more polite way.
To be fair, they’re right. It was shit.
My Dad had – for a short while – a Marina.
In mustard yellow and brown.
It was utterly horrific.
Even though his was the ‘fastback’ model, I still remember being utterly embarrassed by it.
The colour, The shape. The everything.
I was so glad when he got rid of it, though I have a horrible feeling he changed it for another yellow car – this time a Fiat 128 – but at least that had 4 doors, which made it feel a step up.
But imagine how a Jag owner would feel after spending thousands on their car, only to see that piece of Marina engineering shit was ‘on top’ of their premium priced motor.
British Leyland always seemed to have a knack of fucking things up.
Continually chasing others success with bad interpretations of their own.
It’s a bit like small film studios …. who on seeing another movies success, launch a tsunami of similar themed films, all with names that are derivatives of the original, in the hope people may get confused and see their’s instead.
British Leyland totally adopted this strategy.
The TR7 was the Fiat X/19
The Marina was the Ford Cortina
And in 1980, the Mini Metro was their version of the Mini.
Oh my god, I remember the launch of that car.
It was heralded as the pinnacle of the British car industry and launched with one of the most jingoistic ads you’ll ever see.
Did you see it?
Jesus christ … it’s like it was written by the Far Right.
Or the Daily Mail.
I still remember when it got unveiled and just thinking, “it looks shit”.
Well, while it didn’t end up ‘taking over the world’, it was successful in the UK and even saved British Leyland from bankruptcy – for a while – but what it all ends up reminding me is how many companies forget that just because something is successful in one country doesn’t mean it will work in another.
I’ve seen – and worked in – too many organisations who think they are the best in the World.
That their worst is better than everyone else’s best.
That sort of thinking is a recipe for disaster.
Not just in terms of encouraging laziness, but it’s one thing to think you’re good, but it’s another thing altogether to think everyone else is just a lesser version of you.
The amount of companies I saw crash and burn in China was amazing.
Thinking that by simply being ‘Western’, they would be appealing.
Maybe that worked before, but what they failed to realise is that in a nation where everything said something about you, it quickly became the most brand literate nation on the planet.
The old premise remains.
If you want others to respect you, respect them … and it starts by not just trying to sell something because it convenient to you.
Amazing how few people still seem to understand that.