Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Ambition, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Brand Suicide, Brands, Cars, China, Communication Strategy, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Egovertising, Environment, Italy, Leadership, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Money, Positioning, Premium, Shanghai, Wieden+Kennedy
On one of my daily walks, I passed this …
For those who don’t know what the car is, it’s a Lotus.
Now once upon a time, this was a car brand whose name was synonymous with power, status, style and flair.
A marque of British engineering excellence.
However, for a whole host of reasons, it has fallen from the highs of being James Bond car of choice [The Spy Who Loved Me], to now being a small player in the Chinese conglomerate, Geely’s, staple of brands.
That said, if anyone is going to help it rise again – it’s them.
The reality is the Chinese car industry is incredible.
Innovative. Progressive. High standards and high quality.
This is not by accident, but design …
The Chinese Government see the car industry – specifically the electric car industry – as not only the pathway to securing China’s next chapter of China’s economic power, but also a way to reinvent how the World see’s China.
That and a powerful way to help address the environmental concerns of the country … which, despite what many Western nations like to say, has been a priority of China for a long time, which helps explain why they have been the biggest investor in green tech for years.
Anyway, all it takes is a notional look at the vast range of brands and models made by Chinese manufacturers and you’ll see how companies like Tesla are nowhere near as innovative as their Chinese competition – acknowledging, Musk’s mob are still innovative.
For example, because BYD makes the batteries that power their cars, it has enabled them to innovate in ways companies who have to buy batteries from other companies cannot hope to compete with … for example their new 5 minute ‘zero to full battery’ that they’ve just announced. Or you could look at Nio who have created a system where someone can drive their car into a change station – located across China – and have their low battery automatically changed for a full one in a matter of minutes.
Add to this that Chinese brands can offer their cars at prices that are often a fraction of the price of their inferior, Western counterparts – thanks to the scale they serve and the way they organize their operations – and the category is far more innovative than certain people would like to admit. [Or at least they could before Trump introduced his insane tariff ‘policy’]
I say all this because when I saw that Lotus – or should I say, Lamborghini Urus wannabe – I couldn’t help but feel that for all the innovation of Chinese car manufacturing, they are making a major mistake with how they are approaching the marketing of this car.
Sure it looks pretty good inside and out.
And sure, Chinese manufactured electric vehicles represent incredible value-for-money – at least in comparison to their Western equivalent counterparts – but I am not sure if painting ‘0% interest’ on the side is the best move for what they are trying to do.
Sure, they have to let people know about it.
Sure, 0% interest is a great selling point, especially in these financially challenging times.
But not only is the car still the equivalent of US$180,000 – which, by anyone’s standards, is a fuck-load of money … driving around with that message on the side basically is saying, “this is a car for people who want to look rich, but aren’t”.
Yes, I know rich people get rich by not spending money so 0% may be initially attractive, but this car isn’t designed for them.
If you’re truly rich, you’ll likely buy a Lamborghini or Ferrari … a brand synonymous for its craft, heritage and performance.
No, this car is aimed at the people who want to look the part without waiting or doing things to actually be the part.
The Andrew Tate brigade … the people who never want to be seen to be making ‘financially responsible’ decisions.
Not because they want to be broke, but because they don’t want to look like they have to worry about the money.
For them, life is all bravado, attitude and overt acts of power …
But what this smacks of is a brand who either doesn’t know who its audience is or doesn’t want to admit who they really are.
We had a similar situation at Wieden when we were working with Alfa Romeo in China.
We got fired when instead of reaffirming who they said their audience was, we told them who they really were.
They didn’t like that at all.
For them, they wanted to be driven by the young, rich and successful who were bursting with flair, style and a glamourous life. So you can imagine how they felt when we told them no one knew who they were and their biggest opportunity was to appeal to the ‘wannabe’s and fakers’ … individuals without the time, money or patience to do the right thing, especially when the illusion of it was available to them at a much lower price.
Of course we weren’t going to overtly position the brand that way, but it did mean our approach was going to attract those who chose to live that way.
Or it would have if they hadn’t dismissed us.
Similar to how the people of China went on to dismiss Alfa Romeo.
Which is a good reminder that in these days of increased competition, the biggest threat isn’t who you face … but the ego you’re constraining yourself by.
It’s Valentine’s Day today.
A day – as I’ve often written about – that has more to do with fear than love.
But today it’s different. Today it truly lives up to the hype and clichés, because I get reunited with someone I truly love …
Nick fucking Finney.
Now I appreciate many of you won’t know who that is. Hell, most of you won’t even care who it is. But to me, he’s very special.
We’ve not seen each other for a long time … not since I lived in LA … but our story goes much further back than that, to Wieden+Kennedy Shanghai.
Now you may think this is going to be a post about the work we did together – and I understand why you’d think that, because we did make a bunch of good stuff with each other. Or you may think it revolves around the life we had in China – which I’d also understand because it was an amazing adventure. But the reality is it’s neither of those things – not really. You see my relationship with Nick was/is quite different to any relationship I have ever had or currently have with any creative … and it’s that unique bond – and the experiences that came from it – that has not only given him a special place in my heart, but explains why I’m so happy to be spending my Valentine’s Day with him.
“So, what is this unique bond and relationship?” I hear you cry?
Well, while I could write loads about it, I think these 2 posts from 2015 explain it best.
Number 1: also known as ‘The Pasta Poodle Pitch’.
Number 2: also known as ‘Fuck Me, It’s Kenny G’.
Have you clicked on them?
Both of them?
Hell, you don’t even have to read the bloody things as the pictures tell most of the story.
Anyway, while I acknowledge these links may suggest my bond with Nick is based on bullying or even exploitation [even though if there’s any victim of exploitation, it’s me given he convinced me to pay for all the ridiculousness] I prefer to believe – and have been advised by my lawyer to say – that our connection is based on immaturity.
Nothing proves my case more than the email he sent me explaining why he is coming to NZ:
So while I may be a Valentine’s Day curmudgeon, getting to spend today with:
An old mate …
Who you share a history of stupidity with …
Who is here to attend a Lord of the Rings themed wedding …
Where they will be dressed up as a wizard in their role as groomsman …
… means I’ve never believed in its power to radiate love like I do right now.
They say love works in mysterious ways.
They also say love is blind.
Well today, I’m going to prove to the world, both those statements are right.
Happy V-Day to all of you, whoever … or whatever … you do. Or don’t.
Filed under: 2025, A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand Suicide, Cakes And Pies, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Confidence, Creativity, Culture, Deutsch, England, London, New Zealand, R/GA, Shanghai, Wieden+Kennedy
Over the years, I’ve introduced a number of behaviours and/or rituals into the places I’ve worked.
Some have been serious … like the cultural research studies and books I’ve done, such as Dream Small or America in the Raw [to name but two] and some have been errrrrrm, less serious, like the pie-making competitions.
I say less serious, but people don’t act that way.
In fact, regardless of whether I’m talking about the teams in Shanghai, LA, London or Auckland … they all reveal they’re as competitive as fuck.
And in some cases, delusional as hell. Hahaha.
At Colenso, I introduced the Fuck Off And Pie.
Basically we define a theme – or an ingredient – and people have to make something that reflects it.
It’s all blind-tested and then we vote on who is best over a number of categories before the overall winner is revealed to great fanfare.
Or some fanfare.
Anyway, last month the Fuck Off And Pie theme was ‘birthday’s’.
Over the space of 2 hours we witnessed – and ate – a glorious celebration of creativity, gastronomy, insanity and revenge. Put it this way, as bakers … we’re great planners.
From a personal point of view, I had a lot to prove.
Despite being my idea, the last 2 occasions had seem my submission come second-to-last. This was devastating, given I had won first place at R/GA with my totally breakthrough [cough cough] ‘Breakfast Pie’.
The good news is my entry – entitled, ‘Give Birth, Day Cake’ came a highly credible 3rd.
The bad news is I probably have another HR violation.
Here’s why … followed by some other pics of the day. A day that will long live in our memory, and our bowels.
[It’s a public holiday in Auckland on Monday – I know, I know – so see you Tuesday]
Filed under: America, China, Dad, Death, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Home, Hong Kong, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore
So tomorrow marks the 2nd month since Rosie passed … and I am still struggling with it.
I appreciate how pathetic that may sound, but it’s how I feel.
In many ways, the loss of Rosie feels very, very similar to the loss of my parents.
I don’t say that lightly.
I also don’t say that because my parents weren’t wonderful.
Frankly, they were amazing and gave me a childhood where I can honestly say I never wanted for love, support or encouragement. And while I didn’t really appreciate how special that was until I was much older and realised not everyone got to experience that, I definitely understand how blessed I was for what they gave me and left me.
However, while Mum and Dad were my physical and emotional constant throughout my first 20+ years of my life … as I went through my key adult ’life stage’ years – such as marriage, moving countries [a lot] and starting a family – they weren’t. Part of this is because by then I was living far, far away from them – so only connected to them by phone, albeit on a daily basis, as well as my annual visit home – and part of this is because sadly, both of them died over this period of time. Which means from 2007, Rosie – along with Jill – were my physical and emotional constants.
Wherever I was … whatever I was going through … they were the ones who I went back to each and every day.
Who were there for me, each and every day.
In essence, they were on the other side of the bridge that took me between childhood to adulthood, which I hope helps explain Rosie’s significance and importance in my life.
But there is another reason I feel such loss and that is because I can’t help but feel I had something to do with it.
At the end of the day – while it was out of love to ensure she didn’t suffer given her kidneys had stopped working – I/we made the decision when her life would end. And for all the compassion, care, gentleness and tears we shed, it is something I still feel guilty about.
Of course it is full of irrationality …
Somehow, I am of the belief that we could have nursed her back to health. That … had we not taken her to the vet that Saturday morning for a routine injection, she’d still be with us.
And maybe she would … except the likelihood is she would have ended up suffering far more as we wouldn’t have had the time to get her the specialist care that ensured she didn’t suffer more than she had to.
But that Saturday is burned into my mind.
That morning she was almost back to her old self.
Jumping on our bed in the morning. Wanting food. Doing her loud ‘surprise happy scream’ every time she saw us. We even said, “she’s back to her old self”.
The injection at the vets was just to help with her arthritis – nothing more – and yet a quick blood test set off a chain of events that led to us saying goodbye to her 48 hours later.
And while I know the reality of the situation is her kidneys had started to properly fail … in fact, her readings had more than doubled within the month – from an already terrible score of 400, which represents ‘stage 4’ out of 4 possible levels for a cat’s kidney health to just under 1000 – I still find the image of leaving our house looking well and returning ready for goodbye hard to reconcile. Hard to let go of my complicity in creating this situation – even though every vet we spoke to had already warned us of the severity of her situation and, if truth be known, we were aware that her previous illness a month earlier signified a major shift in her wellbeing. As I wrote in the post announcing her death, that shift felt similar to the final stages I saw my Dad go through before he passed.
Doesn’t make it any easier.
Doesn’t make being home any less challenging.
Because everything screams she is not there.
It’s all so heartbreaking. I keep wanting to ring the vet who helped her sleep to give her an injection to make her come back alive. To erase the decision we made, even though it was absolutely the right decision … a decision that I think even Rosie wanted. Especially as kidney failure gives a cat about 30 days before it all ends in tragedy and we were close to that timeline being hit and yet I want to ignore all that as I just want her back.
Hell, I keep finding myself saying, “come on Rozzie” when we go to bed … expecting to hear her feet make a little sound as she jumps off wherever she was to follow us down the stairs. But the hardest thing … the thing that absolutely reinforces she’s not longer with us is that I no longer have to check the front door when I leave in the morning or get in at night.
Each day, as I was heading out to work, Rosie would come upstairs with me. While this was because she hoped for extra Friskies – despite I had just given them to her downstairs – I would end up giving her a couple more because I couldn’t resist her face and it was the best way to ensure she didn’t sneakily follow me out of the front door where she felt a compulsion to explore, even though she knew she wasn’t allowed to. And at night, when she heard my car come down the drive, she’d be waiting at the glass next to the front door where I would see her silently meow to me through the glass as a way of saying hello, before trying to get through my legs when I walked in.
Occasionally she’d succeed and then proceed to sit under mine – or Jill’s – car until finally getting bored [or tempted with treats of falling in reach of one of our arms] but it was a daily ritual and now I can keep the door wide open and it literally fucks with my head.
I miss it. I miss all the things she did.
Even the stuff that annoyed me … like coming into the lounge at night – when Jill and Otis were asleep – and literally screaming at me, telling me it was time to come downstairs to bed with her.
She did a lot of screaming, but over the years she ‘educated us’ to what each one meant.
One was that she wanted to sleep under our sheets in bed and needed us to lift them up for her to go underneath. One was that she was hungry and wanted us to hand deliver treats rather than eat the food in her bowl. One was for us to open the lounge doors so she could go and sit out on her special bean bag cat bed on the deck so she could look out on the trees and feel the sun on her fur. In fact, the only time she didn’t scream was when we were actively looking for her, fearing she had got out when we came home and didn’t realise.
She did do that a couple of times, but never went far. Or for long.
She knew where home was.
She knew how well she was cared for.
She was definitely not a stupid cat.
And that’s why I can’t think about getting another. At least not yet.
I did look for cats who needed adopting very soon after Rosie had gone, but then I realised I wasn’t doing it to replace her, but to replicate her and that is both impossible and unfair to whoever we adopted.
So we need time. And while this may all sound dramatic for a cat, I point you to the post I wrote about Denise – the woman that I need to apologise to. Who gave me a very early warning as to what this would feel like. Because a pet is not just for life, a pet adds to your life and Rosie was – and will forever be – my first animal family member and I’d do anything, as I would for Mum and Dad, to have her back. Even for one day.
So regardless who you are or what you’re doing, don’t take the good shit for granted.
Because as annoying as it can be, it is better than it not being there.
And that is why – despite having experienced death throughout my life – Mum, Dad and Rosie’s passing has been the most significant.
What is interesting is that at my age – which I recently heard described as ‘the youngest of the old bunch’ – I am heading towards more of that. Including, my own one day … albeit hopefully a long time away. But it does make you re-evaluate what is important and who is important, which is leading to a lot of discussions and considerations about the future we want to have rather than the future we will get given.
But while there is a lot of sadness in this post, I want you to know I’m not in a bad way.
I was, but not now.
Part of that is because we have Rosie’s ashes with us and weirdly, it feels like she’s home.
Not exactly as we would like.
But exactly where she belongs.
And that, I’m increasingly learning, is the real definition of happiness, fulfillment and success.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
This is the last post I’ll be writing for 2 weeks as I’m off on a ridiculous trip for work.
Across Canada. Across America. And a quick visit to Australia. Quite bonkers.
But I am eternally grateful for it. Not just because of the air miles, but because it is being organised by a client who wants me – and 3 colleagues – to really understand who they are.
The details. The nuances. The values. The realities.
At a time where so many clients want simple, superficial and easy, they’re going out of their way to make it difficult for all of us … but in the most brilliant, rewarding and valuable way ever.
And for that we’re all eternally grateful.
Not because it’s rare, but because it means they give a fuck about what who they are, what they do and what they want us to create together.
They’re invested in making something great, rather than just expecting excellence without contributing anything to it beyond deadlines, mandatories and distain.
And you know what this ‘in it together’ approach achieves?
A team very, very motivated to do something extraordinary for them.
That’s contrary to what many companies think is the way to work with agencies or partners these days. Believing that if they treat people like disposable commodities, they’ll get them to work even harder for them. Which means they value you nothing other than the price they pay for something.
And while I appreciate what we do costs a lot of money and so being on top of things is important, I’ll tell you what ends up costing a whole lot more: treating partners like shit. Not because they’ll stop caring about what they do, but because they know you don’t even care about who you are.
Which is why we’re thrilled to be going on this trip … because nothing shows commitment like inconvenience.
See you on the 29th … as there’s a holiday in Auckland on the 28th, hahaha.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Ambition, America, Amsterdam, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Australia, Bands, Billionaire, Birkenhead, Bonnie, Campaign Magazine, Canada, Career, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Culture, Dog, Dream Small, Easter, Empathy, England, Experience, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Hong Kong, Japan, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Management, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Michael Jordan, Miley, Mr Ji, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nike, Otis, Paul, Paula, R/GA, Relationships, Rockstar Games, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Sunshine, Sydney, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, UK, Virgin Atlantic, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
I have written before that apart from my friend Paul, I owe almost everything in my life to the fact I left the UK and went on an adventure.
Without that, I would not have met my wife … would not have had my son … would not have had my pets … would not be working with rock stars … would not have had all the life experiences and adventures I’ve been fortunate to enjoy and almost certainly would not have the career I currently enjoy.
That’s pretty huge when you think about it and while there’s a whole list of people I need to thank for making it all possible, one of them is an old boss.
Who was a prick.
I had a rather complex relationship with this individual.
Because while they were pompous, petty, condescending and rude, they were also smart, knowledgable and experienced.
On top of that, they gave me a shot on a couple of projects that they probably shouldn’t have. I should point out that wasn’t because they necessarily believed in me – it was more there was no one else to do it – but I appreciated it all the same.
Anyway, when I decided to leave – to go explore opportunities in another country – they were pretty pissed off with me.
While I’d love to say it was because they didn’t want me to go, the reality was they were frustrated I was leaving after they’d agreed to give me a payrise.
That this ‘rise’ was still below market rate and they’d fucked me around for literally 2 years, seemed to have completely slipped their mind … which is maybe why on the day I left, they thought it would be ‘funny’ to write the following comment in my leaving card.
“You’ll be back. Come crawling”.
I remember watching him going around telling people what he had written, laughing hilariously at his own ‘joke’ and while I didn’t take it too much to heart – because everyone knew he was a bit of a prick – it still hurt.
Little did I know then, how those 5 little words would play such an pivotal role in how my career would turn out.
You see, when I ended up in this other country, I initially found it very difficult.
Not just because I didn’t have friends, contacts or a job … but because my Dad was very ill back in the UK.
In all honesty, the temptation to go back was huge but there were 2 reasons I stuck it out.
1. I wanted to show my gratitude to my parents for supporting and encouraging me to go, despite them going through a terribly tough time because of my Dad’s major stroke.
2. Those 5 little words.
While I’d like to think the former was the biggest motivator, I fear it may have been the latter.
That’s pretty pathetic isn’t it … especially as I could have gone back without having to go back to that old job.
But I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction directly or indirectly.
And so I persevered.
Pushed, prodded, walked the streets, did shitty, temporary roles … anything that kept me from gaving to go back with my tail betweeen my legs.
And it everntually worked out.
Not because of any talent I did or did not have, but because of my perseverence.
And willingness to take any bullshit salary … hahaha.
But for me, getting a break was my main objective … because while I knew I was not the smartest strategst, I knew my work ethic meant I could out-work most.
Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that is a toxic trait – but it is my trait – and back then, it was a way for me to prove my worth to agencies/clients who didn’t have to give me a chance or keep me on board.
Of course, over the years, my motivation for continuing to explore the possibilities of the World and my career have evolved.
These days it is far more about wanting to feel I’d be making my parents proud than it is me reacting to 5 little words from a toxic, little manager.
But I also have to acknowledge that without that persons toxic motivation, it is unlikely I would be in the situtation I currently enjoy.
So thank you AC … you were a strange little man, but for all the fucked up shit you did – and there was plenty – you did one thing right, even if it was wrong.
And while I doubt you even remember me – let alone care what I’ve done – it doesn’t matter.
Because I didn’t come back and didn’t come crawling and so for that, I won, so there.
It’s Easter long-weekend that then leads into a big week for me/Colenso – from us hosting Fergus and his OnStrategy podcast to me saying goodbye [for the second time] to someone who is very special to me … so have a great weekend, overeat Chocolate and Hot Cross Buns and I’ll see you Tuesday.
Till then, this is for you AC.
With thanks.