Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Cannes, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Holiday, Jill, Love, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Planners, Planning, Queen, Shelly
So let’s start with the good news …
This is my last post until the 26th June.
That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!
You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]
The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.
And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.
But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.
First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …
First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.
FIFTY FUCKING THREE!
This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …
Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.
Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.
Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.
But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.
Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.
I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.
I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.
Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …
Paul’s birthday.
That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.
I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.
The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.
Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.
That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.
Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.
Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …
And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.
Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.
I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.
And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.
So there you have it.
That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.
And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.
That’s honestly how it feels.
I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.
And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.
I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.
But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.
No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.
Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.
And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.
Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.
But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.
You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.
And most of the time that’s not the case …
We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.
Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.
And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.
I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.
You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.
And it’s true.
I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.
Every. Single. Thing.
That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.
It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.
And I still stand by that.
But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.
A huge thing.
I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.
But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.
Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.
Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.
I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.
That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.
And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.
Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.
Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.
I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.
And maybe a bit is.
But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.
It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Egovertising, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Strategy
Not too long ago, Campaign – in the UK – asked me for my point of view on Byron Sharp and the obsession with brand assets etc.
Specifically, they wanted to know if I felt he was hindering creativity as well as making it harder for small business to ever stand a chance of breaking through.
Now I have some issues with Mr Sharp’s character, but if I put that aside to answer the question, I said this:
First of all, I don’t think Mr Sharp wants to kill creativity.
From my perspective, he recognises its value far more than others in his position. If I’m going to talk about who is undermining the power of creativity, I’d say it can be aimed far more at the companies who outsource all their training needs to the same few individuals because it’s easier and cheaper for them to do.
God, that’s started off controversially hasn’t it?
The reality is what Mr Sharp says isn’t wrong, it’s just not the one-size-fits-all approach that so many seem to have interpreted it as.
And that highlights what the real problem is for me: conformity over possibility.
Or said another way, the modern equivalent of ‘no one got fired buying IBM’.
Look, I get it … marketing is expensive, complicated and influenced by a whole host of factors that you can’t control, so if someone say’s “this will stop you making stupid mistakes”, it’s pretty compelling.
But the reality is not making stupid mistakes doesn’t mean you are ensuring success. Worse, blindly following these rules creates a real risk you will commodify yourself … looking, talking and behaving just like everyone else. Let’s be honest, you don’t have to look too hard to see that already happening …
And that’s my problem with terms like ‘brand assets’ … they’re talked about as if you can buy them off the shelf.
Simply choose a single colour, add a logo and some category cues … then sit back and count your billions.
But people are confusing visual distinction with brand value.
Sure, being recognised in some way helps … but it only becomes an ‘asset’ if it has meaning built into it and to do that requires distinctive and deliberate acts, actions and behaviour over time.
Or said another way, you don’t ‘create’ a brand asset, things become a brand asset.
The industry is continually looking for shortcuts.
I get it … I really do … but the irony is the thing that can deliver so much of this, is the thing the industry continually tries to diminish or control.
Creativity.
At its best, creativity rewrites rules and changes the odds in your favour.
Creativity helped Liquid Death get men to want to drink water.
Creativity helped Gentle Monster become the fastest selling and growing eyewear brand across Asia.
Creativity helped Roblox go from niche player to the single most played game by kids and teens across America.
Creativity even helped Metallica use a 30 year old album to attract more fans resulting in them becoming the second most successful American band of all time.
They didn’t achieve this simply because of smart distribution of their brand assets. Nor did they achieve it by placing their logo as a watermark throughout their TV commercial [which has to be the laziest and most misguided attempt to achieve ‘attribution’]. They achieved it by allowing creativity the freedom to push forward in ways that – as a by-product – meant their voice created value in their numerous assets.
I get it’s not easy.
I get it requires real energy and openness.
But little can achieve what creativity can do when you commit to letting it loose.
My problem [and I appreciate this may just be me] is that many seem to have interpreted the words of Sharp [and others] in a way where they see creativity as simply the ‘wrapping paper’ to execute their rules and processes.
But creativity isn’t the wrapping, it’s the fucking present.
A gift that offers value to brands that goes far beyond the fulfilment of singular commercial objectives and goals.
There are countless examples of brands achieving incredible success and growth following different rules so much of the industry feel is the only way to progress.
That’s not meant as a diss to Mr Sharp, he is obviously very good – though I note he and his peers choose to not highlight that many misinterpret and misuse their guidance, which suggests there is an element of complicity and profiteering from the one-size-fits-all blandification that is happening all around us.
But even then, the real blame should be aimed at the industry for fetishising the learnings and viewpoints of the same few people, because however good they may be – and they are good – it means we’re literally choosing to narrow our own potential and future.
Don’t get me wrong, brand assets are definitely a thing. But they don’t make creativity valuable … creativity makes them an asset.
54 years ago, five twenty somethings – Hylton Mackley, Vern King, Michael Wall, Mike Hutcheson and Roger MacDonnell – got together to start an agency.
Only problem is they didn’t have any clients or any cash.
Step in Hylton’s wife, Eileen, who handed over her student loan to help them get started.
The rest, as they say, is history … one we are continually encouraged to push, stretch, provoke and mess with.
Bu we can’t forget we wouldn’t be here if they weren’t there which is why today is Founders Day, followed by the weekend, followed by a National day off [not for Colenso, though it should be] so see you Tuesday. If anyone is still bothered to visit and read my rubbish.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Colleagues, Context, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Cynic, Friendship, Music
I recently read an interview with the members of 80’s art-pop band, Soft Cell.
Sure, I liked their song ‘Tainted Love’ but that was about it.
I thought they were try-hard and much preferred my heavy metal bands.
But as I’ve got older, I’ve realized how blinkered I was … how judgmental … and this interview rammed it home.
I love so much about it.
Their attitude to music.
Marc’s phenomenal and ferocious attitude to the frankly, horrific homophobic rumours that I remember hearing way back in my college days.
And their approach to their working relationship.
It’s funny with bands … you expect all the members to love each other. Have deep bonds that last a lifetime.
Of course part of that is cultivated by the record companies, but you still want them to be mates who hang out together … but often, they’re not.
It’s not that they don’t like each other – though that can happen too – it’s more their chemistry works in one environment and they’re good with that.
It was funny seeing it in print because it kind-of captured how I felt with Cynic.
While Andy, George and I talked every day … we weren’t close friends.
We didn’t socialize much together. In fact, we probably do it more now we’re not in a business together than we ever did then.
But it worked.
We liked each other.
We trusted each other.
We valued each other.
But it never really extended beyond the work environment.
And this probably helped us because unlike family – where the focus is not to cause upset – this situation allowed us to always tell each other the truth.
We would be considerate. We cared about each other. But we would never hold back.
And when I think of the best work experiences I’ve ever had, this has been the constant dynamic.
Blunt truth wrapped in visceral respect.
Where you felt you were better at your job when you were together, but had other enjoyable lives when you were apart.
And the joy of the working experience meant you kept coming back.
Not because you had to, but because you wanted to.
Or to paraphrase David from Soft Cell, a creative relationship rather than a creative marriage.
I didn’t realise how special that was.
It certainly doesn’t happen often.
And while you may ask why some of those relationships still end, the bigger question is why do so few ever begin?
For me, it’s all about trust and belief.
That you got together because of how you all see the world, not because you found yourselves in the same room or office.
And while you may share the same philosophy, you have different ways of embracing and executing it.
And that’s thrilling.
That’s the tension that drives both of you to be better.
That lets you say stupid stuff because it’s part of the trust you have of each other.
Part of the standards you hold each other to.
While I have some of that still, I miss some of the stuff I had.
And why I still feel a great privilege for having lived it .
But here’s the good news … because while many of those relationships are no more, the experiences, lessons and ambitions that were born from them remain and blossom.
So thank you to all of you who had – and have – that impact on me.
You know who you are.
And thanks to Marc and David for waking me up to it. Again.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity
One of my pet hates is when people think the best way to brief creativity is to say what they want to see, not the problem they need to be solved.
Whether it was where I worked … or who I worked with … I didn’t encounter this much at the beginning of my career. But as marketing lost its clout – and so standards increasingly fell – I’ve seen it happen a hell of a lot more.
I wish I could say I deal with this sort of situation well, but let’s say there is ‘room for improvement’.
Oh I can hear Andy as I type this.
“If they don’t know how to do their job, you can do your job anyway you choose” … but fights don’t solve anything other than a temporary moment of relief.
I know … you’re wondering who am I?
Don’t worry, I did say I have room for improvement because frankly, I still suck at dealing with this sort of thing, even if I’m way better than I used to be.
One of the worst situations I ever encountered was in Malaysia when a client complained about the way an actors hand looked in a print ad.
I should point out the ad wasn’t about hands, didn’t focus on hands and the hand in question was perfectly normal … but for some insane reason, he wanted it reshot – at our cost – suggesting it would ruin everything.
I genuinely thought they were joking when they first said it, so laughed.
And then he looked at me like I’d just smashed his mother in the face and asked ‘what the hell was I laughing at?’
I’d love to say I responded in a calm, professional manner … however, well, you can guess.
That said, I also put a proposition to him that said if there was commentary about the hand when the campaign launched, we would not only pay for a re-shoot, but we would refund 25% of our costs to him. However if nothing was said, then he had to pay us an additional 50% of our costs.
He lost interest in his argument after that and – surprise surprise – there was absolutely no commentary about the freak hand that wasn’t freaky whatsoever.
I say this because I recently read about the 1994 movie, Street Fighter, featuring Jean-Claude Van Damme and errrrrm, Kylie Minogue.
The film was rubbish [though it’s now seen as a camp classic, like the Queen soundtracked ‘Flash Gordon’ that preceded it] and the making of it was a rollercoaster but writer/director Steven de Souza makes a comment that is not just insightful, but highlights how creativity not only solves problem … but can do it in the most bombastic or gentle of ways.
It’s a lesson we could all do with remembering.
Especially those who dictate what outcomes, not identify their problems.
