Nothing Say’s Love Like A Permanent Scar …
May 22, 2026, 6:15 am
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I got my first tattoo when I was 42.
I was holidaying in LA, saw a tattoo shop and – after some encouragement from my friend Paul – went in and had a big one on the underside of my arm.
Hey, nothing like jumping all in eh.
But from that moment, the tattoo became something very important to me.
To be honest, I’d always wanted one but chickened out because of the fear of pain – but not only did it not hurt at all [in fact I fall asleep when I have them] I discovered it the ultimate way to express my sentimentality towards people, dates and things that held a very significant place in my life.
Since that day way back in 2012, I’ve had loads of tattoos.
Birthdays.
Postcodes.
Phone numbers.
Signatures.
Names, pictures and paws of pets.
Honoring Mum, Dad, Jill, Otis and China.
Personal philosophies and heroes.
Nottingham Forest and Queen.
Some weird shit for some friends.
And nods to LA, UK, NZ and Italy.
There’s not one that I regret because each and every one of them is there for a reason.
No ‘moments of stupidity’.
No ‘this would be good for a laugh’.
No ‘tribal or badly translated rubbish’.
Each tattoo represents something deeply important and significant to me – even if to the causal observer, it may look like I have a bunch of random and weird stuff across my arms.
I say all this because recently, Otis asked if I had any tattoos for him, to which I proudly pointed to the one of his name and his date of birth.
And while he seemed moderately pleased with this, it apparently wasn’t enough because he asked if he could design one … a tattoo that captured who he was and what he believed. And I stupidly said ‘yes’, which is why I am currently in negotiations with him to decide which of these will be inked upon my body in the next few weeks.

For the record, the reason the potential designs are all in type is because I don’t have any room on my arms for a picture and he wants to ensure it is something that can be – and will be – seen at all times, haha.
Now before you think I’m blindly pandering to my son’s whims and wants … he genuinely loves rice. In fact he has it every night for dinner which he claims is because he was born in China … so while his tastes may well change or evolve over time, ‘Rice Is Life’ does capture who he is and what he believes, which means – for me – it ticks all the criteria boxes needed to go out and make it a permanent symbol on my body.
The ad industry could learn from kids for their powers of persuasion.
In Blog Years, We Are Officially 10487492367 Years Old On Sunday.
May 1, 2026, 5:15 am
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Yes, it’s Friday.
And yes, it’s the first of May.
But neither of those things are as incredible as this …
You see, on Sunday, it will be 20 years since I started this blog.
TWENTY BLOODY YEARS!
That’s before the iPhone.
And Android.
And Facebook.
And the Kindle.
And the financial crisis.
And before Pluto lost its planet creds.
AND BEFORE WI-FI WAS PUBLICLY AVAILABLE … so a very long time ago.
I still remember why I started it …
It wasn’t for any attempt for notoriety or popularity, it was more to do with survival.
You see I’d got a job that – frankly – I was woefully under-qualified for, and because it demanded so much of my time and energy to make sure I didn’t completely fuck it up, I needed an outlet for all the ideas and thoughts that were going around my head that I just didn’t feel were right for what I needed to do at that time.
Not because I was sure I was going to use them later … more because I needed to feel I was still connected to the stuff I loved while also believing that if I didn’t find a way to get them out of my head, they’d maybe be no more space left for anything new to enter my head.
And so this blog was born.
Reading through the first few posts not only reveals the times we were living in, but also the headspace I was in.
Trying to balance making sense of stuff happening around me while also needing an outlet for stuff I was feeling or thinking … which, in many ways, set the tone for how this blog has been for over 2 decades.
Which George recently described as, “the blog version of TK Maxx”.
He’s not wrong … and in some ways, I really like that.
Sure, among the almost 5000 posts I’ve written, there’s a lot of [to keep the TK Maxx analogy going] cheap and nasty shit in there … but there’s also a few ‘designer label’ gems hidden amongst it all.
At least for me.
Stuff that made me think, challenge or question stuff in ways that I had not imagined or considered before.
Stuff that ended up impacting how I did things and how I still do things.
Stuff that forced me to articulate what I believe, not just what I feel.
Maybe those posts meant nothing to anyone but me. Hell, maybe no one even read them. But while every post I’ve written reflects something about who I was – or am – those ‘self-defined gems’ have a special place in my heart because they represent a moment where I felt I was growing and learning.
It’s why I always enjoyed the comment section, because for all the overwhelming piss-taking I received, the vast majority always ‘encouraged’ me to look deeper, wider or longer at issues I’d written about. And I loved that. I loved how the people who commented always kept me on my toes … which is why one of the unexpected pleasures of writing this blog for so long has been seeing how my opinion on certain subjects has changed or evolved over the years. It’s served as a great reminder about the importance of always exposing yourself to others perspectives, opinions, experiences and standards, even if the goal of it is simply to be really sure about what you think or believe.
In many ways, that’s the biggest surprise of 20 years writing this blog.
I never expected anyone to comment on anything I wrote, because I started it just for me.
A private place to express my thoughts and idiocy.
But then Andy discovered it and he sent an email to everyone at Cynic and some of our clients announcing it and then the mayhem started.
At that point, blogging had become a big thing. A good thing. A community of people who wanted to help and contribute to what others were doing. A lot of this was down to the great Russell Davies and his iconic blog … a place that not only brought people from all over the world together, but inspired others to start writing their own as well.
It was a place that not only exposed me to a lot of brilliant people I’d never have known about without his blog – people like Gareth Kay, Paul Colman, Northern Planner, Rob Mortimer, Marcus, John Dodds, Lauren, Age to name but a few – it also brought people to my blog who helped add to the texture, lessons and perspectives I was writing about.
I will forever be grateful to Russell for that … especially as most of the people he inadvertently introduced me to, not only still exist in my life but I have met them all IN THE FLESH.
Alas the blogging community, like most things in life, has moved on with maybe only Martin and I still churning stuff out via that platform. [Well, he curates, I churn] And while technologies advances allows strategists to be even more connected in even more ways, the energy of the community is not the same as it was back in the early days of blogging.
Now it feels more aggressive.
More sharp elbows and self publicizing.
Wanting the spotlight on them rather than the work they do.
But then, the industry seems to value those who talk about the work more than those who actually make it … which kind-of highlights why the industry is in the state it finds itself in but refuses to acknowledge.
Emperor’s New Clothes anyone?!

Screenshot
That this blog is 20 years old blows my mind. I never thought it would last that long, mainly because I never gave much thought about how long I’d be writing the thing. It’s not always been fun – when I was receiving a lot of anonymous hate that resulted in me deciding to stop allowing comments was definitely a low point – but all in all, the whole experience has been pretty glorious.
In many ways, this is one of the longest committed relationships I’ve ever had.
And one of the most successful, hahaha.
The fact there are some people who have been reading it for almost as long as I have been writing it, is madness.
Have they no taste?
Have they got nothing better to do?
Or maybe they’re stuck in prison and this is part of their ‘sentence’.
The good news for them is there’s no way this will still be a ‘going concern’ in another 20 years … at least not in terms of how regular I’ve been writing posts for the past 2 decades. Not because I am running out of things to say [albeit Andy said I have only ever written 3 posts and just keep re-writing them in different ways] but because I’ll be – hopefully – doing other things with my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be grateful to advertising … it has given me a life I never could have dared to imagine … but I am increasingly spending more and more of my time working and collaborating with artists and I feel that’s where my future may be. Not because I don’t love what I do, but because I find their definition and expression of creativity even more interesting, challenging, open, provocative and progressive than where our industry is choosing to head.
But that’s not going to happen yet. Hell, it may not happen at all – I could get fired by all the artists tomorrow for all I know – which is why for the time being, I’ll keep happily juggling my two ‘lives’ while churning out daily blog posts at the same time.
Sorry, hahaha.
That said, the point of continuing this blog is different to what you may think and why I originally started it.
Because while it has helped me grow, learn, make new friends and even help build my professional reputation [which is hilarious when you read some of the stuff I’ve churned out, like this!] … it delivers something that is even more important to me.
Connection to my family.
I know … I know … that sounds weird-as-fuck, but what I mean is this:
A few years ago, Jill said that while she rarely ever reads my blog, when she does – she can hear my voice because of the way I write.
Put simply, how I write is how I talk … so when she reads my posts, it feels like I’m with her.
And she liked that.
Add to this that I’ve shared deeply personal and important moments in my life – from getting engaged to getting married, to Mum dying, to becoming a Dad, to getting Rosie – and Bonnie – to saying a tearful goodbye to Rosie, to moving from Singapore to HK to China to America to London to New Zealand [so far] … which means moving from cynic/WPP to Sunshine to Wieden+Kennedy to Deutsch to R/GA to Colenso [not to mention all the other highs and lows that have impacted or been introduced to my life over this period, be it death, covid, friends, family, health, books, chaos, and/or multitudes of weird, wild, crazy shit] … and this blog is no longer just a place where I rant rubbish, it’s a place my family can have me close even when I’m no longer here.
That means a lot to me.
Not because I want them to need me, but because I like knowing they can access me should they ever need me.
Or if Otis ever wants to introduce me to whoever becomes important in his life.
It’s why I’m going to keep writing it and why I’m going to move it to a free domain again, to make sure it always stay up … because what originally was a place just for me, has become a place that offers connection to the most important people to me.
And with that, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has ever visited or commented.
Whether you meant it or not, you’ve given me far more than I ever imagined or hoped for.
Thank you. Love you. Grateful for you.

Some Years Make You, Some Years Break You … This Year Confused The Hell Out Of Me
December 10, 2025, 6:15 am
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So I know that I’ve only just got back to writing this blog after being away for my eye-op, but today is going to be the last post of this year. Yes, it’s earlier than it normally is. Yes, I will miss reporting on some stuff like the shitshow that was Fuck Off And Pie ’25 [which happened yesterday and was renamed to ‘Fuck Off And Die’ … because the theme was ‘hot spice’] but there’s 2 main reasons why I’m ending this year’s blog today:
1. My eyesight is still pretty bad so typing takes me a bloody age. [Don’t get excited, this blog will be back when I’m back – which is the 19th Jan – over a month away]
2. It’s Otis’ 11th birthday tomorrow and so the rest of this week is all about him.
That said, this will be a long post … not because it needs to make up the 5 weeks or so this blog will be quiet or because I think people want to read what I’m spouting [let’s be honest, does anyone even read this blog anymore?!], but because it serves as a reminder for me of what I’ve done over the past 300+ days.
The reality is, while this years been dominated by my health, it’s been a generally good year.

Yes, there have been some incredibly hard moments … from the tragic passing of 8 people I knew and cared about – that bizarrely all occurred around the same, short period of time – that still deeply affects me to this day through to the individual I once valued and respected highly, who ended up showing me how fragile trust becomes when someone stops meeting you with the same honesty, then denies it, takes no accountability for it, then runs from it.
But even with all that – and it was pretty shit, made more painful by the fact I was contending with my own health dramatics – I feel very fortunate that I still experienced more high points in 2025 than sad. And given how tough this year has been for so many people, I appreciate how fortunate I am to say that.
And what high points they were …

Getting Bonnie … who has not just added such joy to the family, but has helped Otis in ways we could only dream of.
Watching the family thrive, shine and be happy makes everything worthwhile.
I got some lovely new tattoos.
Finding a brilliant new school for Otis that specialises in kids with his particular contexts and conditions.
Seeing some old friends I’ve not seen for years … topped-off by not just seeing Paula after 2 years away, but speaking with her at Cannes, which was extra-special.
Getting a new car … which I appreciate is as indulgent as hell, but it made me very happy until I had to stop driving it because of my eye. Fucking karma, ha.
My Life Vs Time thing that seemed to touch the nerve of a lot of people all over the place.
Wednesday, September 24th … where I found myself sitting on the steps outside Wieden+Kennedy Shanghai on a very warm night – around midnight – chatting to someone I’d met on that trip that turned into one of the seminal memories and moments of my life, despite the fact all we did was chat for a couple of hours and I’ll never see or talk to that person again. But grateful for that moment.

Talking of Wieden+Kennedy …
I went back to see them after 8 years and not only was it lovely – and surprising – to see some old faces, I got to leave some new stickers all over the place.
Now back to other stuff …
I bought a suit. A good suit. Which surprises me as much as it likely shocks you.
Seeing Ange Postecoglou get fired after 39 days of destruction and arrogance.
Working on some incredible projects for people who are truly wonderful, talented and creative humans.
Being overwhelmed with the kindness and generosity of people and clients in relation to my health and wellbeing … with special thanks and gratitude to Peter, who – on behalf of his clients – organized the surgeon who invented the surgical procedure I was going to have, to be part of the team who took on the drama and trauma of my operation. While we are still waiting to see if it was as successful as we all hope, I know I would not be even in this situation without him, the surgeons, the medical staff, my GP – Stephen Sohn – and the optician at Specsavers in Glenfield Mall … who all contributed to this having a shot of a happy ending.

Hanging out with some of the most famous and talented people in the World. Yep … at various points in the year, I found myself having dinner with a music/fashion superstar, an international model, one of the World’s most famous and iconic humans, a Hollywood screenwriter, the family behind one of the World’s most powerful and desirable Italian luxury brands, some Rock Gods and – on a wild 16 hours in NYC – gatecrashing the birthday party of the wife of one of the music industry’s most famous managers where I spent the evening sat between the wives of 2 different Rockstars who were so welcoming and epic before Taylor Swift entered the restaurant. [Culminating in a gift from one of them which was their way of telling me I was now ‘family’, which still blows my mind]
Having Metallica come to NZ after over a decade away, including a cup of tea at my house for some special guests.
Travelling a lot … including FOUR visits to my beloved China where, on one trip, I got to show some of my Colenso colleagues around for their first time there.
Talking of Colenso ….
We made some properly good work [of which, I’m particularly proud of the Family Roast stuff we did for Medibank for a whole bunch of different reasons and you can see the ad here, and the game here] , launched the brilliant ‘Dream Bigger’ book, won a bunch of international awards [though seeing us not win, we should have, was annoying – ha] and got to host/meet Fergus and his OnStrategy podcast in NZ.
In addition, while it was sad to see Martin and Augustine leave Colenso, I got to see them do great things on their new adventures while also getting to welcome James and Miz – who fitted in like they had been here for years. [Not to mention the wonderfulness of the team at large, who kept me learning, thinking]
As you can see, that’s a lot of good things … more than I probably deserve … but I am grateful for all of them.
Almost as grateful as I am for my son Otis.

Tomorrow, he turns 11. ELEVEN!!!
How the fuck has that happened? And while he has gone through many schools and classes in Shanghai, LA, London, Hundson and Auckland … the fact he is about to end his ‘primary school’ journey seems particularly momentous.
And yet, despite all these changes … and despite his dysgraphia challenges … he has handled it all so brilliantly of which one thing I am very proud of, is his ability to express when it is all getting too much for him.
I appreciate that may sound weird for a parent to be proud of … but I am.
Because if he feels comfortable enough to say when stress and anxiety is beginning to take hold, not only we can help him deal with it – in collaboration with his teachers who have generally been very supportive – it means we have created an environment where he feels safe and seen, and that means the World to us. And hopefully to him too.
He’s such a good kid, surrounded by other good kids.
Cheeky, mischievous, supportive, funny, passionate, compassionate. honorable, curious and independent.
And while they will all be going to different schools in the new year, I am confident they will maintain their friendship. Part of that is because of the way New Zealand works … but part of that is because of the bond they have. One built on more than just proximity, but a real connection based on shared interests, values and energy.
It took me a long time to realise how much energy plays into just how much you connect and relate to people.
Maybe that’s because I’m slow and stupid … but energy matching seems to be the real heart of connection. At least deep connection. And while Otis has met kids who share that with him in every country we’ve lived – most notably, his beloved Elodie in LA – he’s met more in NZ.
Of course, part of that is because he’s older and exposed to more … but for a kid that doesn’t really love the ‘outdoor life’ as is celebrated by all Kiwi’s [which, to be fair, is just like his old man] he’s definitely met his ‘peeps’ here. Maybe that’s why he has said that – while he knows we will leave NZ at some point in the future – he will want to come back and live here. And if that’s not the biggest compliment to the people of NZ, I don’t know what is. Which explains why that as much as my heart belongs to China, my gratitude will forever be with NZ.
So to my dear Otis …
Happy birthday my wonderful son.
I can’t put into words how much I love you but I can say how proud I am to be able to call myself ‘your Dad’.
I hope you have a wonderful day playing Geometry Dash and I can’t wait to celebrate your birthday with you and your friends this weekend.
Big love, hugs and laughs from your Dad, Mum and pooch.
Love you.
Rx

I’ve probably missed stuff to celebrate but this post is already too long so let me end it by saying a big thank you to everyone who has played a part in the good parts of my year as well as those who have popped by to read my rubbish on here.
Without wishing to sound too sentimental, but I am more grateful to you than you may ever know and I hope – whatever you are doing or celebrating – it soothes any pain you are feeling and/or elevates any happiness you’re experiencing.
Just don’t have a better time or better presents than I hopefully will receive over this period – hahaha.
And with that, I’ll see you on the 19th Jan 2026, and here’s to it being a better year than the shitstorm it has been for so many.
Hopefully … with almost 6 weeks of blog freedom, I’m starting it off on a positive.
See you on the other side.
Rx
The Fine Line Between June Gloom And June Bloom …
June 6, 2025, 6:15 am
Filed under:
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Cannes,
Jill,
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So today is the last post for about 3 weeks.
No, it’s not because I am still upset about the loss of my ring – I am, but I’ve found a way to move past it which I’ll write about when I’m back – it’s because I’m about to go on a mass of travel, including talking at Cannes with Paula.
But in addition to all that, I feel I’ve reached a point where I have nothing to write about.
If I think about it, that’s stupid … because I NEVER run out of things and right now – with things like Dream Bigger – I’ve got more good things to write about than I have in years.
Which means I really need a bit of a break … and while the next 3 weeks will be the opposite of that, a change is as good as a rest so expect me to come back fizzing with stuff to shout about.
Of which 86.32% will be my usual pants.
The rest may be pretty good.
Talking of pretty good, I should highlight all that’s going to happen while I’m away.
First – of course – is my birthday. My 55th fucking birthday, which is nothing to celebrate whatsoever, hence it’s pretty convenient that’s the day I fly out of NZ.
Secondly, it’s Jill’s birthday on the 15th … which, yet again, I am missing. I could say that is my gift to her, but I’m gutted to be missing her special day. She is a truly special human … and the longer we are together, the more I appreciate all she is and all she does. She deserves so much more, but I hope she knows I love her with all my heart, even if I somehow seem to always be away on her most special of days. And then – as the final birthday fuck-up – I get to miss my mate Paul’s birthday.
What is even more ridiculous is I’ll be in Nottingham 2 days before his big day and yet – in another demonstration of my terrible planning skills – I’ve managed to make sure I’ll be gone just as he celebrates his double 5 day.
Bloody hell, I’m missing so many important dates, I just hope I make it in time to be on stage with Paula.
[Not just because we have a speech to do, but because I’ve not seen her in the flesh since we spoke at Cannes way back in 2023!]
Given the last few weeks have seen people leaving [Martin, Augustine and Lizzie]. lost wedding rings [me], broken toes [Otis], COVID [also Otis] … I’m quite nervous about getting on the plane, so to ensure you don’t miss me too much – you can listen to me blather-on the OnStrategy podcast when Fergus came to New Zealand.
At the very least, it will help you sleep … and maybe, just maybe, you’ll wake up in time to see a brand, spanking new, exciting blog post from me.
But I wouldn’t bet on it.
And if you don’t like that, you can marvel at the latest ridiculous tattoo I’ve had done.
I say ‘ridiculous’, but every one of them is personal to me.
This one is for Bonnie, our pooch.
You see, when I was growing up, my favourite biscuit in the whole-wide-world was the Bourbon biscuit.
It was nothing fancy. In fact, it was probably a bit pauper – I think you could get a pack from Asda or Glens for 10 pence, albeit that 10 pence back then was probably like 10 quid now or something. Anyway, the Bourbon was 2 chocolate rectangular biscuits sandwiching a chocolate creme filling.
And it was fucking yum.
Or so I thought …
You see I had one recently and I have to admit, it tasted more cardboard than chocolate.
But regardless, when we learned our dog was chocolate brown in colour, I rallied the family around the idea of choosing a name inspire by my fave Bourbon biccie … which is my long way of explaining this.

I know. I know.
So with that, I’m off to offend the stylish South of France residents with my speech and tattoo. So until I see you in a few weeks, have fun with the peace and quiet.
What Freddie Mercury Can Teach Strategists About The Importance Of Words, Details And Understanding …
As you all know, I love the band Queen – or should I say Queen up to, and including 1984, when they were still rock stars rather than entertainers.
Anyway, I found an article recently where Freddie talked about the way the band operates behind the scenes … specifically why there is a difference between leading a band on stage and leading the band as the boss.

While it is true Queen was definitely a band – with all 4 consistent members contributing songs/hits to their repertoire as well as each member having a specific role within the bands operations, for example bassist John Deacon was in charge of their financial interests – you do get the impression that while all 4 members may have been equal, Freddie was maybe a little more equal than all the others, ha.
That said, what I love about what he says is that it’s a beautiful reminder words matter, details matter and understanding matters … and given our industry seems to be at a place where every man and their dog has ‘hot takes’ that they spout liberally with all the definitiveness of God – despite many not having had any direct experience or knowledge on the subject matter they’re claiming expertise in – the value of precision has never been so important.
[Case in point: all the people smugly hating on Liquid Death because they’re re-evaluating their roll out into other markets … as if [1] they’ve never made a mistake in their life and [2] they’ve launched a brand that in just a few years is worth over US$1 billion. The delusional, egotistical, condescending imposters]
And just in case someone thinks it, I did not write this post to simply justify showing off my latest tattoo …

Probably.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Asia, Auckland, Authenticity, Bonnie, Cats, China, Comment, Content, Context, Craft, Creativity, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Design, Emotion, England, Family, Freddie, Happiness, Harmony, Jill, LaLaLand, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Names, Otis, Queen, Resonance, Respect, Rosie, Shanghai, Tattoo
I got my first tattoo when I was 42.
I was holidaying in LA, saw a tattoo shop and – after some encouragement from my friend Paul – went in and had a big one on the underside of my arm.
Hey, nothing like jumping all in eh.
But from that moment, the tattoo became something very important to me.
To be honest, I’d always wanted one but chickened out because of the fear of pain – but not only did it not hurt at all [in fact I fall asleep when I have them] I discovered it the ultimate way to express my sentimentality towards people, dates and things that held a very significant place in my life.
Since that day way back in 2012, I’ve had loads of tattoos.
Birthdays.
Postcodes.
Phone numbers.
Signatures.
Names, pictures and paws of pets.
Honoring Mum, Dad, Jill, Otis and China.
Personal philosophies and heroes.
Nottingham Forest and Queen.
Some weird shit for some friends.
And nods to LA, UK, NZ and Italy.
There’s not one that I regret because each and every one of them is there for a reason.
No ‘moments of stupidity’.
No ‘this would be good for a laugh’.
No ‘tribal or badly translated rubbish’.
Each tattoo represents something deeply important and significant to me – even if to the causal observer, it may look like I have a bunch of random and weird stuff across my arms.
I say all this because recently, Otis asked if I had any tattoos for him, to which I proudly pointed to the one of his name and his date of birth.
And while he seemed moderately pleased with this, it apparently wasn’t enough because he asked if he could design one … a tattoo that captured who he was and what he believed. And I stupidly said ‘yes’, which is why I am currently in negotiations with him to decide which of these will be inked upon my body in the next few weeks.
For the record, the reason the potential designs are all in type is because I don’t have any room on my arms for a picture and he wants to ensure it is something that can be – and will be – seen at all times, haha.
Now before you think I’m blindly pandering to my son’s whims and wants … he genuinely loves rice. In fact he has it every night for dinner which he claims is because he was born in China … so while his tastes may well change or evolve over time, ‘Rice Is Life’ does capture who he is and what he believes, which means – for me – it ticks all the criteria boxes needed to go out and make it a permanent symbol on my body.
The ad industry could learn from kids for their powers of persuasion.