Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Colleagues, Communication Strategy, Content, Context, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Customer Service, Differentiation, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Food, Happiness, Honesty, Imagination, Innovation, Italy, Leadership, Love, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Mischief, Packaging, Resonance, Singapore, Social Divide, Standards, Strategy, Viz, Wieden+Kennedy
In the UK there was an adult comic called Viz.
It was filthy, hilarious and – for a long time – very successful.
And while they had many ‘star’ characters … from Sid the Sexist to errrrm, The Fat Slags … my favourite part of the magazine were the publishing company details.
Tucked at the bottom of a page, in extra small font, were a list of the people behind the magazine. Most people wouldn’t even see it, let alone read it … but if you did, you found magic in that small print.
Mischief. Personality. Information.
Nothing told you how much this was a labour of love for the people behind the magazine than their dedication to instilling their personality into every nook and cranny they could find … whether people would see it or not.
Brilliant stuff.
I say this because I saw a label a friend had put on a product they were selling at their shop.
Ai Ming was a planner in my team at Wieden+Kennedy.
She was very good … but decided one day, it was time for a change and so she went back to Singapore to open a Cheese Shop.
I know … sounds a bit random … but wait, it get’s better.
You see Ai Ming had an idea.
A way to combine her love of cheese and travel and be paid for it.
So she started The Cheese Ark … a cheese shop in Singapore, dedicated to selling cheeses from small, independent makers across Europe.
Oh but that’s nowhere near the end of the story …
So when she left Wieden – and before she returned to Singapore – Ai Ming went to work on a small farm in Italy for a few months. [I think]
While there, she discovered how amazing cheese tasted when it was made by people who loved and nurtured their product.
To her, it was a whole new world of taste and made every other cheese she had tried, feel unworthy of being labelled as such.
But she also learned something else …
You see she discovered many of these small, independent cheese makers were in danger of going under, because they didn’t have a way to compete with the big boys.
Said another way … this incredible tasting cheese could become obsolete.
So rather be sad, she decided to do something about it.
Enter The Cheese Ark … a shop that only sells cheese that originates from these small independent farms. A shop that is one of the only places in the World where you can get your hands on this incredible produce. A shop that charges enormous amounts of money to own a piece of their incredible cheese … not simply so you can have your taste buds tingled in ways you could never imagine … not simply because it allows you to show off to your friends about your good taste and status … not simply because it pays for Ai Ming’s travel, shop, employees and profit … but because by buying so much from each of these small farms across Europe, she can ensure that these small, independent cheese farms not only survive, but thrive.
Hence it’s called ‘The Cheese Ark’ … because its literally saving the lives of cheese.
How fucking incredible is that?
But Ai Ming is not just a creative business thinker, she’s full of personality and passion … which leads me to the point of this post.
You see I recently saw something that reminded me of those Viz publishing details I loved.
Something that communicated more than just the necessary details.
It was this …
How good is that?
I bloody love it.
A notice on a packet of cheese that’s more interesting, engaging, compelling and charming than 99% of ads – or any marketing material – out there.
Sure, not many people will see it.
Most may actively choose to ignore it.
But for those who do, they’re not just rewarded with the thrill of discovering something as enjoyable as the product inside it, they know they’re dealing with someone who really cares about what they do.
And they do. Because what Ai Ming has created is the Noah’s Ark of Cheese.
Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Food, New Zealand, Nottingham
I am – and have always been – a sentimental fool.
And I appreciate the last couple of weeks have seen me write a bunch of particularly sentimental posts …
Identity.
Belonging.
My childhood in Nottingham.
… and guess what, here’s another one, albeit a slightly more tragic one.
Chips.
No, not the stuff Americans and Kiwis think they are … I mean hot chips.
The stodgy magic you smother in ketchup, mushy peas and gravy.
God I love chips.
British chips.
Golden pillows of burning hot majesty.
Food that fills you up and warms you up.
When I was growing up, you could get chips on almost every corner.
20 pence for a bag of them or a tray of them.
It could be a reward … a celebration … or just a way to bond with your mates.
But it was only when I left the UK that I realised the magic ingredient of chips.
Vinegar.
Specifically malt vinegar.
Specifically Sarson’s malt vinegar.
Acidic drops of heaven … sour death on their own, addictive temptation on chips.
I am still in shock how few people outside the UK like vinegar on their chips. I am horrified at how many look at me with revulsion when I suggest it. But then I also look at these people with pity because they don’t know what they’re talking about and have absolutely zero taste.
Ask me what I’d want as a final meal and after a massive bowl of pasta [olive oil, salt, no sauce – sorry Mum] I’d say a tray of chip shop chips, mushy peas and gravy with some salt and positively drowned in vinegar.
OH. MY. GOD.
You can screw your Michelin restaurants …
And why am I saying all this?
Because like a few weeks ago, when I got some mushy peas I recently got a bottle of Sarson’s.
Oh my god, how happy I was.
Sarson’s … the fluid of fantasticness.
But better yet, it was a present … a present from Jill.
Let me tell you, nothing says love like a bottle of Sarson’s.
So thank you Jill. You may regret your decision, but I’m so grateful for your bad taste.
Literally. Hahaha.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Communication Strategy, Food, Innovation
Years ago I wrote about how standards are driven – and protected – by stubbornness.
Well recently I heard a great story about the man who started the sauce company, Si Racha, who embraces this value.
David Tran arrived in America in 1979 after fleeing Vietnam after the communist takeover.
He found himself living in LA with nothing but his passion for spicy food.
The Vietnamese are one of the most magical and industrial cultures on the planet so David decided to turn his love into an outlet and started making hot sauce in a bucket and selling it from his van.
The name Si Racha came from a Thai surf town where he liked the sauce.
[You thought that was the name of the sauce rather than the brand didn’t you?]
Anyway, David didn’t care about branding or advertising … he just focused on making the best sauce possible. And it worked, because word of it spread like wildfire and suddenly people were buying it in their droves and putting it on everything they ate.
Over time, David started partnering with local Asian restaurants & grocery stores … and more and more people got to experience it.
One day someone said his product was “too spicy” and suggested he adds a tomato base to sweeten it. His friends agreed, saying it would pair better with chicken. But this is where David’s stubbornness started to come through.
“Hot sauce must be hot… We don’t make mayonnaise here.”
Over time Si Racha has become a cult phenomenon.
Famous chefs talked about their love of it.
Obama talked about his love of it.
And in many ways, the sauce became a symbol of both the diversity in America and the opportunity of America … because here was an immigrant who pursued his dream despite all odds and succeeded.
Today, Sriracha sells over 20 million bottles per year, generates over $150 million in annual revenue and has made Tran a very rich man.
But rather than just produce more and more of the sauce to make more and more money, it’s production is strictly managed.
David is adamant on quality, so because Jalapenos have a short window for being at their optimum ripeness, he has created a production cycle where a year’s supply is executed in just 10 weeks.
Tran owns 100% of his company – which he named after the ship that brought him to the US.
He still works at his factory in Irwindale, California and he still wears the same blue shirt and hat every day.
But what I love most is his attitude towards why he so conscientiously and strictly makes his product …
“I don’t make hot sauce for money. I make money for hot sauce.”
We could all do with more David Tran’s.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand Suicide, China, Communication Strategy, Crap Marketing Ideas From History!, Crap Products In History, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Food, Honesty, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Martin Weigel, Packaging, Perspective, Planners, Point Of View, Purpose, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
I’ve written a ton about brand purpose over the years.
Not as viciously as my beloved Martin Weigel. But close.
It’s not that I am against brand purpose, It’s when it’s used as a marketing tool and ‘updated’ to whatever trend is currently popular that my hate boils over.
It’s why I have always advocated for belief rather than purpose.
Belief is demonstrated by what and how you do things, not what and how you say things.
Or give things away.
Belief drives change. Purpose hopes for it.
Which is probably why so many brands prefer purpose.
The ability to look like you care without always having to demonstrate it.
Take this from Unilever food brand, Knorr …
“Our purpose is to reinvent food for humanity by being healthier for both people and the land. Knorr brings the power of flavour to good food to overcome barriers that stop us from eating for good”
Sounds good doesn’t it.
Sounds purposeful.
But for those who are not sure what Knorr make, let me enlighten you …
Yeah, when I think of flavour and good food – not to mention being good for humanity and the land – the first thing I think of is cheddar broccoli rice sides.
But maybe I’m wrong, how do you cook these things that help us ‘eat for good’?
Here’s the instructions …
Microwave directions: In 2-quart microwave-safe bowl, combine 2-1/4 cups water, 1 tbsp. margarine(optional) and contents of package. Microwave uncovered at high about 12 minutes* or until rice is tender, stirring once halfway through. Stir and serve.
Yep, thought so. Utter rubbish.
The reason I am writing this is because I recently saw a post from an ice-cream brand.
Have a look at this …
While those words sounds trite, purpose-for-marketing … food and culture are incredibly entwined and so there is a real chance it may be a badly worded version of what they really believe and do.
Let’s look at their website.
For those too lazy, here is a screenshot of their flavours …
Hmmmmn … doesn’t seem too much about people, places or cultures does it?
There’s a lot about ingredients.
Some even seem interesting. But absolutely no mention of people, places or cultures.
But is that surprising when it’s so obviously an absolute load of purpose-washing?
And what a missed opportunity.
They could truly make that into something that could change something.
Educate, unite, challenge, inform … tell the stories of the people, places and cultures that were the inspiration of those flavours through the flavours.
Ben and Jerry’s meets Tony Chocolonely.
And what makes it worse is their intentions sound honourable. They’re already a B-Corp certified business, choose ingredients that are direct-trade and believe in diversity.
All great and important things except nothing to do with what they claim they do on their packaging.
Many years ago, at Wieden, we were invited to pitch for an ice-cream brand.
We said yes because hey, it’s ice cream.
Anyway, when we got the brief, it read like a purpose fluffer.
My god, it was literally dripping in claims and terminology that not only had nothing to do with their category, but had nothing to do with any of their actions, behaviours or products.
We spoke to them about looking at ice cream another way.
If they had to have a ‘purpose’, make that purpose about what ice cream is supposed to be.
Fun and tasty.
Not deeper meaning. Just that.
And then prove it in the product, not just the experience.
You may think that is overly simplistic, but by then the entire category had gone purpose insane and no one was actually owning what they were and what people actually wanted.
Put it this way, it had gone a looooooong way from the days where BBH had brilliantly changed the way people looked at ice cream and did it in a way that was sexy, powerful and based on a real truth. [A campaign so good that is was spoofed brilliantly by Fosters Lager]
Anyway, for us, the way we could get back to what ice cream was but in a way that proved the fun was down to flavours … so unlike Jeni’s ice creams, we actually went out and talked to all manner of people about their weird tastes. Things they love others think are a bit mental. Things that make them deliriously happy for whatever reason or whatever duration. Because we saw an opportunity for the client to be more like a taste and colour experiment lab than a manufacturer of everyday ice-creams and flavours with an unbelievable purpose attached.
So we worked it all up and I remember it for 2 main reasons.
+ We used a picture of a cat in the presentation with an inverted cross on its forehead … which is still my favourite mad presentation image ever used. And I’ve used a lot.
+ When the client wanted us to justify our idea, we simply showed this …
It may not be the deepest reason you’ve ever read.
It may not even be the most exciting.
But it was definitely more believable than all the shit they were saying.
And with the flavour combinations we had and how it all came together with the creative work – which had some weird ice cream flavour meme generator at the heart of it … generating all manner of taste sensation madness out into the internet … it was something that not only would help them differentiate from the competition, but have a place and role in culture.
They hated it.
Instead they went with some bollocks about ice cream being ‘a gesture of love for those who are not rich’.
No, I’m not joking.
Which may also explain why they … Haagan Daaz and Jeni’s talk a lot about their purpose in society but are – with the possible exception of Jeni’s – increasingly irrelevant ice creams brands whereas that old, dumb favourite, Ben And Jerry’s, still has some sort of position in culture, because despite selling out to the death star Unilever, they try to do shit rather than just say it.
Emphasis increasingly on try.
But even with that, the reality is – as is the real test of any brand that claims to have purpose – they show what they believe through every aspect of what they do, even when it’s inconvenient, rather than market what they claim their purpose is, only when it suits them.
Enjoy your day. Be careful you don’t eat any bullshit.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Customer Service, Effectiveness, Food, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Membership, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Strategy, Trust
So Kevin Chesters recently posted some work from the far distant past.
It was work that I adored at the time and even now, I feel is one of the best pieces of communication ever made.
EVER. MADE.
But it’s not NIKE. Or Apple. Or anything approaching ‘cultural cool’ … it’s for a supermarket.
Oh, but wait … there’s more.
Because it’s not a brand ad – though it does a ton for the brand – it’s a retail ad.
But instead of starbursts and shelf wobblers … it’s a masterclass in craft and smarts. Where the majestic charm and wry humour not only treats the audience with intelligence, but communicates price in a way you see value both in the product and the company selling it.
Regardless of the item.
Regardless of the audience ‘segment’.
Regardless of whether it’s selling food or their loyalty scheme.
It’s incredible and what’s more … it’s from the early 2000’s.
I think.
But despite being almost 20 years old, it’s still one of the best examples of a brand that knows who they are, knows who their audience is and knows the relationship they would like to have with their audience.
More than that, they know the problem they’re solving.
Not just in a general sense … but in terms of the potential barrier for each item.
In a world of wish-standard Nike knockoffs, this is an example of advertising not just communicating, but undeniably contributing to the growth, value and reputation of the company it represents.
When it wants to be – and when it’s allowed to be – this industry can be outstanding.
While we can’t control the standards other parties may demand, we can control what ours are.
Of course, in these ‘procurement-led times’ you could say ‘you get what you pay for’.
And I get that.
But watching the value and standards of what we do fall down a drain doesn’t seem a particularly good business approach.
Which is why I find myself repeating what an old boss of mine used to say to me.
“What happens next is up to us”.
He’s never been more right.