Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Alcohol, Apathy, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Beer, Campaign Magazine, China, Chinese Culture, Content, Context, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Distinction, Effectiveness, Empathy, Environment, Fake Attitude, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Mediocrity, Perspective, Planning, Point Of View, Relationships, Relevance, Reputation, Research, Resonance, Shanghai, Singapore, Strategy
I have a history of working on clients I don’t really have a right to work on.
Sport.
High Fashion.
Female Haircare.
OK, so I have a real relationship with sport, but I think the reason I have been able to [even though I say it myself] be so successful with the other categories is that I get so into what I am working on. I get kind-of obsessed with learning and understanding everything about it and throw myself into reading all I can about the culture, history and category before I then interview everyone I can meet who is authentically connected to it.
No outsourcing to superficial focus groups … it’s about graft. Working with the people who create and push the category rather than those who simply buy the product.
It’s served me well – underpinned by clients who care about their audience rather than just see them as walking wallets and me being being self-aware enough to know my perspective is from an outsiders point of view, so I need to explore everything while assuming nothing.
I say all this because one of the other categories I’ve worked on that I shouldn’t, is alcohol.
Why shouldn’t I?
Because the last sip of booze that passed my lips was in 1985.
NINETEEN EIGHTY FIVE … so 39 years ago!
And yet over that time, I’ve worked on everything from Heineken, Guinness, Johnnie Walker and the development of Blackened, for Metallica.
Beer advertising in particular is fascinating because there tends to be 2 states:
Sponsored jokes or pretentious bullshit.
Now I get why it falls into these 2 states because client/agencies tend to either want to reaffirm their beer is ‘fun and social’ or ‘important and crafted’.
But for every Guinness Surfer, Carlton Draft Big Ad, John Smiths No Nonsense, DB Export Brewtroleum or going right back, Heineken Refreshes … there’s a whole heap of contrived, lifestyle rubbish.
Lazy headlines placed over generic Getty image photography.
One I saw recently was this from Tiger.
Now I appreciate the photo does not do it justice, but the headline reads:
Tiger Crystal.
Ultra Low Carb.
Extra Refreshing.
The reason this does my head in is two-fold.
First is you have to understand Tiger is very close to my heart.
Not only was it one of the first brands I worked on when I first moved to Asia, I also won the worldwide account – literally on my own – against 4 network agencies back in the early 2000’s.
Apart from that allowing me to work with some brilliant people on some brilliant assignments, it also resulted in Campaign Magazine featuring me on their front page in all my sweary glory, which is obviously a career high, hahaha.
But the other reason is that copy makes no fucking sense.
What the hell does ‘extra refreshing’ mean?
Oh I know how they’ll justify it …
With less carbs, the beer tastes even better to the drinker. Not literally, but emotionally.
And while there may be an element of truth to that … it doesn’t make it EXTRA refreshing. More drinkable maybe, but not extra refreshing. But here’s the thing, if it’s that good, why don’t they make ALL their beer like this?
Why don’t they bring their ‘extra refreshing’ premise to all their products?
I’ll tell you why, because it’s bollocks.
It’s lazy marketing … another example of vacuous superlatives being churned out to sound exciting without any thought, consideration or any excitement. An act of arrogance, demonstrating how important the brand thinks it is and how little they think – or understand – the audience they literally serve.
Now I appreciate some may say, ‘why does it matter, no one will pay much attention to it’?
And I get that … except that’s the point really.
Our job is to try and make people pay attention.
To give a shit.
They’re not going to think it changes their life, but they shouldn’t blindly ignore it.
It’s this sort of arrogance that demonstrates the lack of self-awareness that has permeated the industry. A blind belief that everything we do is great simply because we did it … despite the fact in the real world, all we’re doing is adding to the social landfill and social pollution of shit advertising.
Where is the pride in who we are, what we do and the intelligence of who we engage?
Where?
We’re so much better than this. And just to be clear, I’m not solely blaming whoever did this awfulness, it’s also the clients, procurement and ‘for profit’ research companies who created the environment where this ends up being deemed ‘worthy’.
I swear the biggest problem the industry has is every department and discipline has its own agendas and metrics for success.
There’s no alignment.
No agreement on what we want and need to make.
Just distain, distrust and self-interest.
Of course not everyone is like this – thank god – but if clients want to see the potential of their brand and agencies want to push the possibilities of their creativity, there has to be a moment where we stop hiding awfulness under the blanket of marketing justifiable rationales, because for all the NPS, system 1, best-practice approaches we may proudly shout about, there are two questions that trump all.
Is it true and does it make us give a shit?
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Airports, Attitude & Aptitude, Creativity, Culture, Leadership, Management, Marketing Fail, Mediocrity, New Zealand, Planes, Relevance, Reputation, Singapore
This may be the most privileged posts I’ve ever written.
So for the last 19 odd years, I’ve spent a lot of time on planes. Mainly flying long haul. And because I’ve moved countries a lot, I’ve got to experience a whole bunch of different airlines.
As an aside … when we moved to NZ, I genuinely thought it would be the end of my plane habit, without realising that when you live on the other side of the planet – and have clients in Europe, the US and Asia – you’re going to spend a fuck load more times on planes, not less.
Yep, I’m an idiot.
Anyway, in the time I’ve been travelling, I’ve experienced it all.
Good airlines, bad airlines, questionable airlines.
I should point out that when I say bad or questionable – it’s never about the safety of the plane [bar one occasion in China and one in Portugal] it’s more to do with the service and/or the passengers on it. I mean, who can forget the time I woke up on Air Canada, flying to Toronto from Shanghai, and found a 7 year old pissing on my blanket while his Mum watched and did absolutely nothing. No, that is not a joke.
But one airline that has consistently been great has been Singapore Airlines.
Excellent planes. Excellent service. Excellent facilities.
Now, I don’t fly them as much as I obviously did when I lived there – so I was quite excited to be flying with when returning from a trip to Amsterdam.
The first leg was up to its usual quality, but the Singapore to NZ leg was a bit weird.
First of all they changed the gate at the last minute to a totally different terminal, which meant I ended up being 3 minutes away from missing my flight – which would have only been the 2nd time I’ve ever failed to get on my plane. Then, on boarding, I discovered it was possibly the oldest plane I’d ever seen Singapore Airlines fly. Admittedly not as old as the one I flew with Air Koryo – the North Korean state airline – but proportionally, the same.
So not a great start.
But what really got me was the service.
The people on board were their usual brilliant self, but when it came to lunch, this is what they gave me to eat my food with.
Jesus Christ, were they serving me a 4957 course lunch?
Now I appreciate I sound like a privileged prick here – and I did acknowledge that at the very beginning of the post – but while this may sound the epitome of ‘first world problem’, when you’ve experienced almost 20 years of attention-to-detail perfection from Singapore Airlines, these things stand out.
Worse, they get remembered.
Which is why companies need to remember that the service they offer creates the minimum standard for the experience customers expect and the more they try to cut corners, the more all that hard work and effort goes to waste.
I get some routes are less profitable than others.
I get there’s only a certain amount of planes available.
But as the father of a friend once told me, “the sooner you see your reputation as a cost, the sooner you lose your reputation.”.
Hopefully SIA work that out faster than it has taken adland.
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.
When I was young, I loved looking through the Argos and Innovations catalogues.
They were a window into a world I couldn’t imagine.
One filled with gadgets and toys I’d never see, let alone never own.
It’s partly why whenever I fly, I always look at the Duty Free catalogue.
Because outside of the sexist shit like ‘air hostess outfits for girls and pilot suits for boys’ and prices that never seemingly being any less than I could get in a store … there’s something magical – at least for me – in seeing what’s on offer.
Bad versions of expensive brands.
Updated versions of old products.
Endless amounts of perfume and questionable jewellery.
I love it. Hell, I’ve even bought things from it occasionally … though the mini-projector ended up being something I used precisely ZERO times.
But post-covid, the people behind these catalogues have decided passengers are super rich and super stupid.
I get why they would think that with the price of tickets these days.
But even then, I am wracking my brain to work out who would get on a plane and order this …
A bed.
A SG$24,000 bed.
Seriously, what the absolute fuck?
I know there’s a lot of bed companies these days offering ’60+ free nights’ … but this isn’t one of those.
This is the real deal … mattress AND remote control flexible frame.
For the price of a car. Or at least a second-hand car.
And they expect you to buy it, without trying it, via an inflight, duty-free catalogue.
I’d kill to know if any have ever been sold. I’d kill to know the reasoning behind why they did it.
And I’d kill anyone who ordered one.
Forget Duty Free this would be Brain Free … or, the new way to signal to people you have vulgar wealth.
Better than a Black Centurion AMEX or a Lambo with Pepper Pig.
Evolution sure works in some strange ways …
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Cats, China, Culture, Emotion, EvilGenius, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Loyalty, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Relationships, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Stubborness
So on Saturday, it will be our cat – Rosie’s – 16th birthday.
Sixteen. For a street cat from Singapore, that’s amazing.
What’s also amazing is that she’s still in pretty good nick.
Yes, you can tell she’s getting old.
She’s slower … less mobile and definitely sleeps more.
But by the same token she remains cranky, vocal and remains as demanding as ever.
And if another cat comes anywhere near our house, she goes full gangster mode … hissing, growling and acting like she’s ready to fight despite the fact she’s behind a glass door.
Like those TikTok videos that show men loving family dogs they didn’t originally want their family to have … I was in a similar situation.
I didn’t really want us to have a pet.
Not because I’m a bastard, but because Jill and I were living in Singapore and I didn’t know how long we’d be there and I just was worried about the hassle of bringing it with us.
But Jill had always had pets and I wanted her to be happy, so while she originally wanted a dog, we settled on getting a cat.
She threw herself into the search.
It wasn’t just about getting any cat, she had to feel a connection to it … so after visiting various pet shops with their over-priced, pure-bred snooty moggies, she came across a little street cat that had been found by a family and was wondering if anyone wanted to adopt.
Jill went to see it and it is here that street cat did the best move of their life.
As Jill lifted her up to her face, Rosie moved her head forward so their noses touched.
Despite the fact Rosie would not show such love and tenderness for about 6 years, that ensured the deal was done and we were now a cat family.
I still remember sitting in a cab outside the apartment as Jill went to pick her up.
I was a bit anxious and nervous and eventually the door opened and there she was, in her little cat bag, where we both wondered what the fuck we had in store for each other.
And while there have been some annoying, painful and scary moments … it’s been generally nothing but joy.
Put it simply, I bloody love that cat.
There’s things I’ve done for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone. Literally anyone.
What things? Well how about some of this …
In HK we paid someone to pat her so she didn’t feel lonely. I did a project for an airline on the condition they flew her in the crew quarters rather than the cargo hold. We built ‘penthouses’ for her to hang out in. I gave an entire presentation about what a client can learn from her and her ways. I even got my office painted with her – and some of my colleagues moggies. And that’s just the tip of the sad-cat-bastard iceberg.
That said, every year I worry this is the year … the one where we have to say goodbye.
And while I know that will happen eventually, she’s doing OK.
Yes she needs some blood pressure medication, but apart from that, she’s in pretty good nick.
That said, I remember when we were moving to NZ I was worried that would be it.
Despite having flown from Singapore to HK … HK to Shanghai … Shanghai to LA and LA to London … London to Auckland is a whole different beast.
But bizarrely it wasn’t just the distance that worried me, it was that there was a stopover in Singapore – and given she was originally from there, my nihilistic side told me it was written in the stars that if there was any place she would reach the end, it would be where she started, like some fucked-up circle of life. Which – to be fair to me – is kinda what happened when Otis was born and my wonderful Mum died a few months later. Which – given I knew she was ill – was something my nihilistic side had also started to feed into my head.
Except with Rosie, it thankfully didn’t happen. [Fuck you, nihilism brain]
Better yet, we knew it hadn’t happened at the time because we had paid for a service that ensured at every stage she was checked and photographed.
Hell, even when we ended up in MIQ in NZ – where we spent longer in quarantine than she did – we got bombarded with pics of her and she looked to be having the time of her life.
Jetlagged … but happy, thanks to brushes and treats that I had already got sent to the quarantine place before our arrival.
But if you think this proves how much she means to me, you’re only partially right.
You see, at her age – which is 80 in human years – my attitude is she’s earned the right to do whatever she wants to do.
Which is why I’ll get up at 3am if she decides she wants a treat at 3am.
Which is why I’ll give her my chair if she decides she wants to be under the aircon.
Which is why I’ll buy her an extortionately expensive outdoor beanbag because she loves sitting outside in summer.
If we were her servants before, we’re her slaves now and I’m OK with that.
NZ is good for her.
She has a lovely, comfortable peaceful life.
Lots of places to go hang out, a big deck to sit and watch the birds and loads of food and water. And treats.
And where in the past you always felt she was disappointed in you, now you feel her gratefulness.
A cuddle here. A lick there. Meows, headrubs and sleeping on your hip.
Hell, she’s even totally chill that Sky – Otis’ budgie – is in the house.
It’s a lovely feeling.
A family feeling.
And while we give her so much, she’s given us – and me – more.
Happy Birthday my dear Rosie. Keep proving the critics wrong and us on our toes.
