Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Awards, Content, Contribution, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Happiness, Leadership, Legend, Loyalty, Management, Reputation, Respect
A few weeks ago, I received a bouquet of flowers.
That’s unusual enough, but it’s who sent them to me and why that’s the interesting part.
Let me take this opportunity to say that I will not be telling you who it was or the specific reasons why … but there is a point to me telling you this story.
You see, the bouquet was sent by someone pretty famous.
As in, globally pretty famous.
And they did it because they wanted to say ‘thank you’ for some work I did for them a while ago.
Now, I am under no illusion that [1] they will have done the same thing for a bunch of people and [2] it was no doubt organised by someone in their management team … but the fact they did it is amazing.
Let’s be honest, most wouldn’t.
Let’s be even more honest, even the one’s who should, still don’t.
Now I appreciate I have somehow ended up being the exception to the rule with things like Green M&M’s … a Wayne Rooney Man Utd shirt … a custom built cigar box guitar … a signed Rick Rubin and Beastie Boys photograph … a years supply of Coke Zero … the Metallica x Rimowa suitcase, as seen above … but while they are all amazing [and there’s others, including the best reference I’ve ever received], this is different.
You see with all those other things, they came from people/organisations I had long-standing relationships with.
Measured in years.
But this wasn’t.
This came from a couple of weeks work I did for them over maybe a period of a month.
Now I appreciate I wasn’t paid for it [I was asked to help them by someone else I work with, who paid my fee instead] but it was a joyful experience and I was glad they were glad with what I helped do.
Which leads to the second reason why these flowers are amazing.
Because while they were in relation to the work I did – which was pretty small and well over a year ago – it was kind-of giving me some credit for them winning a major award … which, frankly, is utterly preposterous.
I’m not humble bragging.
OK, I am, but I don’t mean to be.
Not am I trying to act all coy.
My involvement was only related to distributing their work, not creating it.
It’s like Spielberg giving me a gift because I told some friends ET was a good movie and they went to see it.
OK, maybe that is a bit too humble [haha] but the reality is their award was about their talent, hard work and quality of work, so for them to even consider others at this time, is testimony to how brilliant a human they really are.
And they are.
Proper brilliant.
Even more so given the first time we spoke, they asked why I didn’t like them, because the people who’d got me involved had told them that, ‘for a laugh’.
Pricks.
Which gets to the point of this post.
I know my role in their work was important, but – in the big scheme of things – insignificant.
But they don’t want me to think that way.
More than that, they won’t let me think that way.
They want me to know they see what I did. That they acknowledge and value it … and that’s amazing.
They have so many people in their life, but they looked out for someone they met a few times.
Talk about making me want to do more for them.
Talk about making me want to do all I can for them.
Talk about making me feel ten feet fucking tall because of them.
I get this may have come from their management more than them, but even then that’s amazing. Plus they signed the card so it’s not like this happened without their awareness … even if they have a million cards with their signature on it available to be used
Now I am not walking around expecting them to dump a pile of cash in my bank account.
I’m not even expecting to do any more work for them.
But I am thinking I want them to win.
Win in life. Win in their career. Win in everything.
They have a cheer leader for them, in me, for life.
Now you could say they’re pandering for popularity … that this is all some sort of ego trip.
And I get why you’d say that. But you’d be wrong.
Because they were tough and demanding.
Not just on people like me, but also on themselves.
Because this work was more than just ‘putting something out’, it was putting themselves out.
There’s a lot of backstory I could talk about to explain this, but that’s not my place … but what I will say is that there’s a lot of talk about leadership, but this may be one of the best examples I’ve ever seen or experienced in my life.
I’m glad they won that award.
They deserved it.
For their work. For their talent. For their vision. For their character.
And when was the last time you could say that about someone in a corporation?
So thank you to this person. You didn’t just restore my faith in humanity, you surprised it … putting aside that when I told Andy, he said if I got a ‘particpation award’, what did the people who actually played a real role in their success and achievement get.
Which is why if there’s an award for asshole, he would win every time.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Brand Suicide, Brilliant Marketing Ideas In History, Comment, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Context, Crap Marketing Ideas From History!, Creativity, Culture, Devious Strategy, Differentiation, Effectiveness, Entertainment, Happiness, Innovation, Luxury, Mischief, Packaging, Planning, Professionalism, Relevance, Resonance, Strategy
This is the last post for a week because I’m off again.
I know … I know … it’s getting ridiculous, but consider my jet-lag, your mental health.
Talking of mental health … I’ve not had a drop of alcohol for 38 years.
THIRTY EIGHT.
But despite that, I do find myself buying it on occasion … mainly when those occasions are an extremely rare dinner invite and/or a desire to show gratitude towards someone in particular.
And when that happens, I remind myself how easily influenced I can be.
Because as we saw in 2007, my biggest motivator is the packaging rather than the quality of the product.
Well, I say that, but it has to be a brand I’ve at least heard of – a brand I associate with some sort of quality – but fundamentally, it’s all about the packaging.
Recently I wanted to get something for our old neighbour in LA.
It was his birthday … he’s an amazing human … and he invited me to his dinner. [I was in town, so it wasn’t some totally empty gesture]
So I rushed to a bottle shop and was immediately hit with a wealth of choices and options and so what did I end up choosing?
This.
Yep, a bottle of Veuve in a pseudo orange SMEG fridge.
Frankly it looked ridiculous … hell, it is ridiculous … but it’s also my kind of ridiculous, despite even my low-class tastes thought that for 2 brands that are supposedly ‘premium’, the way they combined looked cheap and tragic.
But unsuprisingly, my inner Dolly ‘it-costs-a-lot-of-money-to-look-this-cheap’ Parton, took over and I handed over my cash and walked out full of smugness and slight humiliation.
Now I don’t know the background to this collab.
I don’t know the process they took to get here,
And while on one level it makes some-sort-of-sense, it also is completely and utterly bonkers … and that’s why I love it.
Because in a world of sensible, it’s nice to see ridiculous win.
Yes, I appreciate Apple’s ‘ceremony of purchase’ packaging strategy is next level … but in terms of what I call, ‘social luxury’, the use of ridiculous packaging – as seen in the fragrance industry – is arguably, the most sensible thing they can do.
For all the processes, models and eco-systems being pushed by so many people right now, it’s interesting how few actively encourage searching for the weird edges. Ironically, they build approaches where the aim is to filter these out before they even have a chance to see what they can do. Which is why as much as the we laugh at the superficiality of fragrance companies and some alcohol brands, they can teach us more about standing out than all these models that seem obsessed with making sure we all ‘fit in’.
So who are the stupid ones now eh?
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, Attitude & Aptitude, Birkenstocks, Colleagues, Confidence, Culture, Daddyhood, Death, Doctor, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fear, Happiness, Health, Jill, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Perspective, Socks
Back in November of last year, I wrote about how I was eating healthy.
It was quite a big thing for me to talk about – which is weird, given I have absolutely no problem writing about death, unemployment or the size of my best friends appendage, to name but a few of the subjects I’ve waxed lyrical about that many smarter people would rather shut-up than share.
But since then, more things have happened and while I genuinely feel uncomfortable to write it, I am also quite proud of myself, so here we go.
You see what happened was back in August, my doctor asked me to spend 3 months focusing on my health. To try and retrain my habits. To make different choices about my diet. To see what might happen by doing it.
And while I’ve been a helpless – and willing – slave to the seductive powers of pasta and sugar for basically my whole life … I decided this was the time I was going to go all in.
So I did.
65g of carbs a day. 25g of sugar a day. 1700 calories a day.
Every day.
And while it was hard at first, once I knew what I could do – and eat – it was satisfying. Well … more satisfying than I imagined. And that only grew when the results of those first 3 months came in.
I’d lost 22kg.
I’d dropped 4 sizes in clothes.
I saw every one of my health measures hit ‘healthy’.
My doctor called to ask if I was OK as the results were so extreme, he thought either the original results were inaccurate or I was doing a different sort of damage to myself.
[For the record, he was wrong on both counts – I was just in a very intimate relationship with chicken and spinach]
And as good as all that was – and it was very good – the biggest change was that I have started to like myself for the first time in a long time.
Yes, I appreciate that sounds tone deaf and dramatic given there are people who face real challenges and problems, whereas I have an amazing family, a wonderful life and lifestyle and a rewarding and fulfilling job … but it’s true.
In my defence, I didn’t really realise it until I started coming out the other side. Mainly because I think the impact was over time … slowly but surely, bit by bit … until at some point, it found a way to settle permenantly just under my surface.
And while it only popped up to mess with me at certain times and moments – and I suspected what may be behind it all – it is only recently that I was able to confirm my concerns about my health, maybe more than my actual health, was the cause of it.
Or should I say, the concerns about my sub-optimal health.
Just to be clear, what I’m talking about is self-esteem.
God it’s a weird thing.
It’s in your power and yet you’re also powerless to it and I felt I was in its grip.Putting me in a corner that I didn’t think I could get out of so I adapted my ways and choices to try and counteract it, without realising I was just giving it more power over me in more ways.
Which is why as I have got more in control of my health, I have felt a bit of a rebirth.
A bit more confidence about what I can do.
A bit more happiness about who I am.
From the superficial to the deeply, deeply personal.
Part of this is because I’m now wearing smaller sized clothes than I have in literally decades and I’m almost ashamed at how much that has affected me. Of course, it’s also bankrupting me as I have to basically buy new t-shirts that no longer look like I’m wearing a man tent dress … but it has changed more than just the size, but what I choose. Because frankly, more things are now available to me and so I’m experimenting with clothes like I’m a 10 year old kid. Well, I say experimenting, but it really has come down to a few t-shirts in colours that aren’t black and some socks [which is, let’s be honest, already a shock given my Birkenstock obsession] in a range of ridiculous colours. Fuck, I even colour coded my t-shirt and socks once … something never ever done in my life. And – to be honest – never to be done again.
But it is in terms of my family that I am the most indebted.
Because I’ve likely increased the time I’ll be here for my wife and son.
OK, so there wasn’t a identified risk that was going to cut it short … but health is always going to make it last longer and that means everything to me.
Because I love my family.
Love every little thing about them.
Of course they can annoy the fuck out of me, but I am sure I am far worse to them – even though this shocks me as I’m obviously a saint.
But as my son is just 9, I want to be around for as long as I can. I want to see the life he builds, I want to be there for the choices he wants to make. I want to just be in his life and have him in mine for as long as possible. With my wonderful wife by my side. Building new adventures and sharing them. Together.
Now I appreciate that all sounds very Hallmark card … but I do, that’s maybe all I want in some ways … and I’d be denying the truth if I said I hadn’t wondered if this was going to be as possible as I hoped it would be.
And yet … I felt it was an impossible situation to change.
I wanted it.
I knew what could help it.
But I didn’t have the skills or the energy or the willpower. Always having an excuse why I couldn’t dedicate the time and energy to it. Which is mad given I have a fuck-ton of energy and willpower to do a bunch of other stuff … but I had convinced myself that I’d met my match and so that affected me deeply in my head. Loving my family but not knowing how to make sure that love could be around for longer.
I know, it sounds pathetic, but I bet I am not the only one who has faced this psychological prison. And just to be clear, it’s not that I hadn’t tried things to change it. I had. And failed … over and over again. Which not only made me feel a bit more shit about myself, but also convinced myself I was not going to win this battle.
Which is why the pride Otis has in what I’ve done that makes me almost cry with joy. And what breaks my heart is that he obviously had the same worries about how long I’d be around. Not overtly. Not daily. But he tells me how proud he is of me and how happy he is I’m ‘healthy’ … and so while no one knows when the ‘end day’ will come, removing some of the more blatant concerns that it could be sooner than you hope, is a psychological gift in itself.
Now I am not going to say if I can do it, anyone can.
I couldn’t do it for 53 years and you don’t have to be healthy to be happy.
I hate that attitude.
And I was happy … I’m just saying I’m happier now.
With myself.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t have issues – I do, bloody loads of them – but it means I have less than I’ve been carrying, which is nice.
In fact, as of today, I have 30kg less problems I’m carrying – ha.
But let’s not ignore the reality that doing this is really fucking hard – especially at the start – and I needed a Doctor to basically scare me into it and needed to actively choose to not make excuses for not sticking with it. Which is why if anyone resonates with my story and wants to chat about their situation – or what I did to try and get out of it – then just get in touch and I’ll listen and share.
While there is a conscious mental decision to be made, at its heart it’s simply about food choices and portion choices. Oh, and investment … both in time and – sadly – money.
Because it’s a privilege to be able to do this, because – ironically – eating less costs more. Or it does if you want to make it easier.
But the good news is there’s choices that actually are good … and you’re talking to someone who thinks kebab and chips is fine dining. So if you want to know more, I’ll tell you what worked for me and how I did it and then you can decide what’s right for you.
Which leaves me to say a huge thanks to my family, doctor, clients, colleagues and whoever the fuck invented 99% sugar free buffalo sauce … because they made this happen. They made this possible,
And while I may fuck up occasionally, I now know I won’t fuck up every single mealtime and that’s a win in my book, because this journey has taught me things about myself and my habits that have been a revelation.
In fact the only thing I am disappointed about is I’ve still not used the overpriced bloody treadmill I bought. Though I’m glad I got the cool, foldable, wifi and bluetooth enabled one … which means there’s some things about me that will never change.
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.