Filed under: Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Bands, Brand, Brand Suicide, Communication Strategy, Complicity, Context, Crap Products In History, Creativity, Culture, Delusion, Egovertising, Embarrassing Moments, Fashion, Marketing, Marketing Fail
One of the worst things marketing has done is destroy the meaning of the English language.
I don’t mean with their desperate attempts to make their slogans and tropes part of popular vernacular – though that is also true – I mean it in terms of them literally and consistently destroying the meaning of words.
Over the years, I’ve seen all manner of examples …
From positioning a new brand of toilet cleaner as an innovation.
To claiming a new flavor of ‘Chicken Tonight’ is revolutionary.
And just recently, the most 80’s of 80’s band, being promoted as a symbol of rebellion.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Duran Duran.
Hell, back in my session guitarist days, I even played with Simon Le Bon … but even when they went through their ‘Wild Boys’ macho phase, they were about as dangerous and rebellious as Paddington Bear.
What the hell are the people behind this thinking?
Do they actually think Duran Duran are a badge of rebellion or is it more a case of them suggesting you’re a rebel if you actively choose to wear a shirt that does not feature the name of a modern music icon emblazoned all over the front?
If that’s the case, then I must be Satan personified. Or I was, prior to losing weight – hahaha.
But regardless of the reason, they’re either gaslighting, exploiting or as delusional as fuck.
What next, the color beige gets branded as controvertial?
Or maybe green ‘Starbursts’ get called confrontational?
Or possibly the entire marketing industry claims they are dangerous-as-fuck?
To paraphase Ronald Reagan and Lee Hill [who made his comment in relation to companies who have to overtly state and explain why their company, product or campaign is revolutionary/innovative/rebellious or even effective] …
“If you have to explain it, you’re probably not it”.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Confidence, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Fashion, Fragrance, Luxury, Planning, Smell
A while back I wrote a post about the naming strategies of fragrance brands.
Or should I say the lack of them.
It wasn’t a dig, it was almost fawning respect for their complete disregard for logic and their blind commitment to visceral inducing, imagination.
To be honest, the self-awareness is inspiring.
An acknowledgement that in the big scheme of things, their product is kind-of ridiculous and so by embracing that, they can go wherever they want with their naming approach … which is how we end up with Tom Ford’s Noir Extreme … because in the business of smell, the darkness of ‘noir’ just isn’t dark enough.
However in their ‘anything goes’ mentality, they may just gone a bit too errrrrm, mental.
Have a look at this …
Vanilla Sex.
VANILLA FUCKING SEX!!!???
Jesus bloody Christ … they may as well call it, ‘Excel Spreadsheet’.
Now while I appreciate sex is seemingly going out of fashion, I’m not sure a scent that conveys ‘the most average 3 minutes of your life’ ignites aspiration.
Even among Monks or Nuns.
Or Billy. Hahaha.
For a category that loves to communicate its power of seduction, attraction, expression or self-confidence, Vanilla Sex pours a big bucket of cold water over all that and instead celebrates the idea of feeling like you’ve been fucked by a Tax Accountant from Slough.
At 3:17pm.
On a cold Tuesday.
In a Travel Lodge.
Located on the side of a Motorway service station.
It’s so utterly bonkers I don’t know if it is an act of brilliance, madness or just a desire to just see what they can get away with.
Or maybe it’s just proof they don’t give a damn because by the same token, they also have this …
It’s all kinds of amazing.
A case study for the power of strategy to take brands to places never imagined or, by the same token, proof this strategy stuff is all fucking nonsense because even when you ignore – and break – every rule of it, you can still be wildly successful.
But as amazing as all this is, it’s still not as amazing as the thought that two people could meet one day with one smelling like Vanilla Sex and the other being Fucking Fabulous.
Filed under: Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Comment, Communication Strategy, Crap Products In History, Fashion
Let me start by saying I acknowledge I have no idea what I am talking about.
While I like to think I am a man of the world, the reality is I’m a man so shouldn’t be even talking about things like this.
However …
A few weeks ago, I was in Melbourne, Australia.
While I was walking around the city, I came across this:
Now I appreciate that – like jeans – people may have a favourite bra, however is there enough demand to want a shop to ‘bring them back to life’? Also, while I’m at it … what does ‘bring it back to life’ even mean?
While I’m at it, why would they call it ‘Peek A Bra’?
There’s so many possibilities … some good, some interesting and some that would totally show my age so I’ll shut up in fear of getting cancelled or just looking especially tragic. But most of all, why the hell did they print it on top of another sign that wasn’t cleaned properly?
Unsurprisingly, Peek A Bra had closed down … another idea lost to the realms of time … and yet despite that, it’s captured my imagination in ways many more ‘obvious’ brands have continually failed to achieve, which serves as a reminder that while products or services have to satisfy a real need, marketing works when it captures your curiosity.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Family, Fashion, Fulfillment, Happiness, Health, Individuality
So as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, my health situation has had a profound affect on me.
Not just physically, but emotionally.
From actually liking myself a bit to suddenly being interested in clothes – simply because now I feel I have access to choice, whereas before I was left behind by it.
I know that might sound weird for a person who has seemingly only ever worn shorts/jeans, black t-shirts with weird logos on them and Birkenstocks … but while I love those items and still wear those items, I have to acknowledge some of this may have been influenced by their accessibility to me.
But now a whole new world has opened up.
Different shapes, different styles, different colours and different brands.
Admittedly, part of this has been helped by having a client who is the Godfather of Street Culture Fashion and who keeps sending me clothes from the brands he’s started/bought/owns … but maybe, for the first time in at least 3 decades, I not only can explore and experiment with fashion, I want to.
It’s stark, raving, bonkers.
And you know what else is crazy … they’re not too bad on me.
OK, I know I’m never going to be Mr Stylish, but I’m also not Mr Blobby anymore either.
It’s made everyone happier.
Me.
My family.
My friends.
My colleagues.
My clients … especially the fashion lot, who – maybe for the first time – are happy to be seen with me rather than just work with me.
But there’s one item of clothing that has now entered my life that really highlights the impact of this healthier lifestyle.
Again, part of it has been influenced by freebies – which in this case, the copious amount of NIKE’s I’ve been given over the years – but I’ve started buying socks.
FUCKING SOCKS!!! Who the hell am I?
But it gets worse, because they’re not the cheap, ultra-thin, black sock shit from the local supermarket that I’d have grabbed in the past [unless NIKE gave me some] … they’re socks like this:
Yep, designer-ish socks.
OK, so these are sweary socks – or KFC fan socks, depending where you look – but I have loads of different ones. In different colours. With different imagery and messages.
And I bought them.
With my own money.
And why did I do this?
Because – get this – I CAN COLOUR CODE THEM WITH WHAT I’M WEARING.
I find this both sickening and hilarious all at the same time. But I’m here for it, because it is a symbol that I am starting to care about myself in ways I never cared about myself. Not in some desperate need to look stylish – because we’ve already acknowledged I’ll never be that – but to remember than my health has given me choice.
Now I appreciate this sounds stupid.
And I appreciate most people have been this way for decades.
Plus – as a mate recently said – I acknowledge I’ve swapped one daft fashion addiction for another.
But for 53 years, I’ve never had a chance to explore this side of my character and so it’s all new, intriguing and fascinating. At least right now.
Of course it doesn’t mean I’ve ditched the birkies.
Or the jeans/shorts.
Or the black tees with weird logos on them.
It just means they’re more of a choice than a necessity and while there is a disgusting amount of superficiality behind what this has ignited within me, it’s quite an infectious feeling. Which is why I want to thank my family, friends, colleagues and clients for all their support and encouragement on this journey, because I couldn’t have done it without them. I should also thank them for not raising their eyebrows too much at some of the things I am turning up in each day, hahaha.
Hopefully you can tell from how much I’ve written about this subject in the last 4 months, that this has been an incredibly powerful and liberating experience for me. I may muck up in the future, but how I feel because of it is too strong for me to completely forget.
Which is why I can’t work out why health companies have not talked about this benefit in their advertising. Some may have mentioned it – albeit in very contrived and superficial ways – though most tend to either be utterly rational or all about body shape.
Now while I am sure those approaches connect to some audiences, from my perspective the most surprising and enjoyable benefit has been feeling I have been welcomed back into life. That I have choice. That I have a way to explore and express who I am and who I can be.
Or said another way, I get to play dress up, but for adults. And not in a weird way.
Well, not in the weird way some people could read that.
And while that may not sound exciting in words, for those experiencing it, it’s about as uplifting as you can get. Because you’re not just living life, you’re rediscovering it … but with all the experience and lessons from the years before. [But sadly, without the ability to exploit history to make loads of cash … damnit!]
As I’ve said before … should anyone be interested in knowing what I did and how I did it, just let me know. I’m no expert – and I still have a way to go – but I found a way to make it work for me and if it can help you, I will be happy to share.
No judgement. No expectations. And no recommendations on socks. Promise.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Death, Deutsch, Donn, Family, Fashion, Friendship, Love, Otis
So I’m back and it was, as expected, amazing.
Obviously I have a deep love of Asia, but I have a special place in my heart for Vietnam.
Anyone who knows anything about history will understand the creativity of the place, be that its food, its art, its industry or its ability to find ways to beat every enemy who has tried to invade in the last 1000 years.
So it’s little surprise that Spikes Asia chose to hold their judging for the creative and strategy awards there … which meant I got to see some phenomenal work, some great friends and some awesome tourist stuff.
Oh, and my eye generally held up [but unfortunately not totally, hence trips back to the hospital and meds for a bit longer] but all in all it was a really fucking great week.
But I know there’s nothing worse than hearing someone talk about how great things were for them when you were stuck in the office dealing with shit so to try and win back some errrrrm, favour, let me tell you a little story.
One day – hopefully a long time in the future – my son, Otis, will go to a lawyer to hear the reading of his old mans ‘last will and testament’.
Hopefully, when he hears there’s not much left, he will find this post featuring the latest photograph someone has sent me linked to something I did to/for them a few years back [and let’s be honest, there are a TON of them] thinks, “my Dad was a mischievous sod”, rather than – as I fear – “my Dad went broke buying stupid shit to embarrass/take-the-piss out of people he loved”.
Mind you, given I love every fibre of that kid, its safe to say he will have a lot of stuff to remember me by.
Even if it might be [read: probably is] stuff he’d rather forget.
Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.
Thank you for giving me a smile Donn … given I bought you that jumper back in 2018, it would suggest 2 things.
1. It may offer me the best ROI of anything I’ve ever bought in my life.
2. You should stay well away from Harper’s softball buddies Dad and his weird internet browsing habits.
Always looking out for you Donn. You special bloody human.