Many years ago, we were working on a NIKE project about inspiration for China.
China and sport had a weird relationship because it was either seen as a distraction to academic success or a ruthless and relentless act to achieve a pre-determined goal.
I still remember spending hours looking for any photo where we saw a parent or a teacher or a coach encouraging a kid doing a sport … but it was hard. Not because adults didn’t care about the kids in their charge, but because there was this attitude that encouragement encouraged laziness.
Tough love indeed.
But when we talked to kids who loved sport for no other reason than loving sport, the thing we found fascinating was how one of their great inspirations was a wall … or a court … or a park somewhere near where they lived.
This would be where they could kick, throw, hit, head or play against hour after hour … day after day.
This was where they could play without judgement or expectation … but with plenty of competition.
Because walls don’t get tired.
They don’t show sympathy.
They’re always ready to play.
We all have a wall.
They may look like others.
But there is one that is yours and yours alone.
For me, it was the wall of a Church opposite Erika’s sweet shop at the Top Shop.
It was up the road from my childhood home.
I would go up there every night over summer.
Sometimes by myself. Sometimes with friends.
And that would be the arena and the competition for all manner of games.
From playing footie with empty cans … playing cricket by throwing tennis balls as hard against the wall as we can to just practicing our skills of tennis or keepie-uppie. And then on a Friday evening – after school – a bunch of the kids from where I lived would gather by the field next to the church and play a massive game that drew all the girls from school to watch us.
That wall was a major part of my childhood. Of my love of sport. It helped me connect to where I lived, to the people who lived there and just what I wanted to do.
Sport was deeply entrenched in the place I grew up.
Not in terms of a formal team – though we had that and we also had Nottingham Forest doing well at the time – I mean as an outlet for kids to do shit.
Now I’m not sure if that is still the case.
We live in gentrified times.
Where noise is challenged with authority.
Where parks are placed on the outskirts of towns, not the centre,
Where sport is becoming more about the quest for fame rather than enjoyment.
It’s one of the biggest thrills of living in New Zealand.
It’s still an outdoor culture.
Otis has done more running around and visited more parks here than he ever did in the UK. Which has helped him meet more friends than he could ever have hoped to in his time here.
Given the year he had in lockdown, the impact on him has been huge.
And that’s why we should encourage sport to be played as much on the streets as in the parks and schools. Because sport adds to communities in ways that makes communities.
Let the wall be culture’s best inspiration and competitor.
So even though we are not leaving for NZ for a month, this is my last post for at least a month.
Moving countries always requires a bunch of things to be done, and despite us being old hands at it, doing it during a pandemic means we have a bunch more stuff to do – hence the blog post rest.
Being back in England has been a special time.
Part of it is because I never thought I would have lived here again.
Part of it is because I have been able to catch up with old friends once more.
Part of it is because I love big cities and always wanted to live in London.
Part of it is because despite its bullshit, it’s still my home and I’ve loved being in a place where so much of it just felt natural.
And part of it is because of the new friends I have met along the way.
To think I didn’t know people like Tanter, Nils, the beautifully irresponsible – in the most responsible way – Mike and Sam, the entire planning gang at R/GA [though Lachlan did remind me when I started that we had once met in Australia … when he was a student, hahahaha], Michael Roberts, Ben Major, Tarik at Onroad, Sam Clohesy, Ian Preston, Trudie, the inspirational [whether he accepts that or not] Murray Calder, Keerti, Munraj, Larissa Vince – who is a better Nottingham Forest than I could ever be, John, Nana at POCC, Asheru, Louise Jack, Eduardo, Sara Tate, Holly Day, Ally and everyone at Brixton Finishing School, Dorcas, Abi, the incredible Kay Adekunle Rufai from the S-M-I-L-E-ing Boys project, Nick Hirst, Tom Roach and countless other people from work or – shock, horror – Twitter [including one of my ad-icons, Trevor Beattie] … is astounding.
And while I am thrilled to be going to New Zealand for our next adventure, leaving England is much harder than I thought it would.
Without doubt, a big part of that is because as much as I’ve been away, it still feels like home.
And while the pandemic meant we didn’t see each other as much as we would have liked, it’s more than I’d had in quarter of a century and I will treasure that as much as I treasure the fact Paul and I are still as stupid together, as we were when we were kids.
England is where I was raised.
And while I have sold the family home to buy our new family home … it doesn’t take away from the fact, so many of the things that made me who I am, were made here.
Of course I wish my Mum and Dad were still alive.
How I would have loved to have made them happy to be ‘home again’.
How I would have loved to have spent so much time chatting and remembering together.
But maybe it they were still alive we wouldn’t have gone to NZ and so it appears they are still encouraging me to explore, even without them here anymore.
Though I would happily swap it all for another day together, even though I am also happy they have not had to endure the hardship that COVID has placed on the country. I can’t imagine what it would be like for them to have to deal with it and I have nothing but admiration for any person trying to manage/balance that situation with their own family.
But we’re off … and frankly, the idea of going to New Zealand feels like one of the greatest gift in the World.
That we will soon be in a country where WE CAN GO OUT TO DINNER IN A RESTAURANT seems almost impossible.
That we will soon be in a country where Otis CAN PLAY OUTSIDE WITH HIS [NEW] FRIENDS WHENEVER HE WANTS is a dream.
That we will soon be able to go visit Jill’s Mum IN A MATTER OF HOURS is madness, given it’s been 17 years since she could do that.
And that I get to do this while working at one of my favourite companies in the World – the brilliant Colenso – is, frankly, insane.
I’m so excited for the adventures we’ll have.
The experiences we will discover and learn from.
Not to mention the work I will able to be a part of creating.
That said, I cannot thank all the brilliant people who have made my return to England so special, enough.
I will miss so much about here, but the memories will also last me through till our return.
That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
But even though they’re all pains in the arse, compared to what others have – and are – suffering, it was nothing. Hell, even turning 50 gave me the chance to do this.
When I originally wrote this post, I’d listed all the things that had happened to me this year.
It was a very, very long list.
And while I am super grateful for each and every one of those things – from new jobs to new houses to family happiness to Paul doing Frothy Coffee full time – it just felt wrong.
Not just because there’s a whole host of people going through a terribly shit time right now. Nor the fact I’m a over the self-promoting, self-congratulatory, soapbox shouting by people on social media. Or even because the brilliant Mr Weigel wrote it better than I ever could achieve [as usual] … but because of something I read in The Guardian Newspaper a few weeks ago.
Specifically the very first sentence.
Which was – utterly bizarrely – about me.
No seriously, and it went like this.
On a sunny Tuesday afternoon in July, Rob Campbell, 50, received a Zoom call from his boss at the advertising firm where he worked as a head of strategy.
Part of it was because I don’t think I am that age.
Part of it is knowing I am.
And maybe it was at that point I realised just how lucky I am.
Not that I was naive to it before, but it became more apparent.
Because losing your job at 50 is shit.
It doesn’t mean it’s all over, but it’s unusual to have so many good things happen and frankly, it all made me feel a bit embarrassed which is why I deleted the list of stuff.
It happened. I just don’t need to share it because I lived it.
And while it would only have been there to act as a reminder of all that happened should I – or Otis, later in his life – wanted to jog our memory about it, the spirit of this post and those before it say all that needs to be said.
So instead, I want to use the rest of this post to say thank you.
There’s so many people I am grateful to have in my life.
So many people who made the worst year, in many respects, one of my best.
People on here.
People in the industry – some I knew, some I didn’t.
People who just read my instagram and got in touch.
You may not realise it, but it made a huge difference to how I saw the future.
Then there is my amazing family. Their unconditional belief and support meant I never had to panic. I never had to worry. I mean, I did have moments of it – but that was all because of me, never them. Jill never expressed concern. She gave me confidence by simply being confident in me so the whole experience never felt scary – which is incredible when you think about it. Then there’s Otis. God, I love that kid. Seeing him come home from his new teeny-tiny school in the country filled with stories and giggles meant the house never had a chance to feel bad.
My mates were ace. A check-in here, a word of advice there, a dollop of pisstaking and a whole lot of love. They ensured I never felt alone, and while I was perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in, they made sure I stayed perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in.
Of course I can’t forget my old colleagues. Not just from R/GA … but also Deutsch, Wieden+Kennedy and Cynic. So many got in touch. Offered to help. Made me laugh. They didn’t have to do that – especially the way I had treated them when we worked together, hahaha – but they did and it meant more to me than they may ever know.
I want to give a particular shout out to Blake Harrop.
Not only is he the most handsome, clever man in the whole universe but he is also the MD of Wieden Amsterdam.
When he heard what had happened, he sent me an absolutely epic note. I’ve always regarded him as a special man, but this just took it to another level and I will keep that note forever.
And then my clients.
Past. Sort-of present. And now, future.
Fuck me … what an impact they had on my confidence.
Not just in their kind words, but in their actions. Signing long-term contracts, introducing me to others and – in the case of two in particular – collaborating with me to start Uncorporated. As I’ve noted in other posts, the work it has let me be a part of is unprecedented and I cannot say thank you to them enough.
Finally to the wonderful folk at Colenso.
To have one of the agencies I’ave always loved reach out and ask me to join them was simply the icing on the cake. They were open, warm, encouraging and honest throughout the process before topping it off with most well written job offer letter I’ve received in my life. Seriously, it was a work of art and if there was an award show for this sort of thing, it would be a Black Pencil winner for sure. I can’t thank Scott and the team enough for the opportunity to play with them and I can’t wait to be there in March and cause some trouble.
What all this means is that I have been surrounded by wonderful people.
Not just the ones I know, but people who just reached out to see if they could help.
I don’t know what I have done to deserve it all to be honest [it must be Jill and Otis] but I totally get why people say it’s better to be lucky than rich.
So to each and every one of you, I want to say thank you.
Jill, Otis, Paul, Michelle, Mr Weigel, Mercedes, Paula Bloodworth, David Lin, Carina, Winson and Wanshi, Nils, my wonderful old planning team at R/GA London, Lesley Cheng, Ryan and Sam, Mike and Sam, Trudie, Matt Tanter, Group Think, Scott and Levi and all at Colenso, Blake Harrop, Karrelle Dixon, John Rowe, Mr Ji, Richard Green, everyone at Q-Prime, Metallica, RHCP, Richard David James, Paul Colman, Flash, Rodion, Charinee, Debbie, Leon, Jorge Calleja, George, Andy, Baz, Lee Hill, Simon Pestridge, Steve Tsoi and PT Black, Patrick the Dirty Ram fan, Michael Roberts, Ben Major, Holly Day, Lindsey Evans, Dan Hill, Rach Mercer, Donn the grandpa jumper wearer, Ben Perreira, Maya, Chelsea, Bree, James Thorpe, Lani, Tarik at Onroad, Leigh, Nic Owen, Bassot, Judd Caraway, Gareth Kay, Pickens, Wes, Hoala, Brixton Finishing School, Mark Lester, Ros and Hiro, Lea Walker, Phil Jacobson, Maria Correa, Sam Clohesy, Ian Preston, Doddsy, Lee Hill, the inspirational Murray Calder, Wendy Clark and every single person who has insulted, laughed or ridiculed me on here.
While I am sure I’ve forgotten some names, I assure you I haven’t forgotten your kindness.
To be able to have all this at 50, in one of the worst years the World has seen is insane. I definitely feel some guilt over it so I hope that in 2021, everyone out there gets lucky … and if I can do anything to help that, give me a shout – because it COVID has reminded me of one thing, we’re better together than separate.
May you all have an amazing holiday season. Or as amazing as it can be.
I send you thanks, love and best wishes.
And I leave you with the 3 ads that gave me hope that creativity still is a more powerful and deadly weapon than all the frameworks, funnels and optimisation put together.
See you on the other side. Specifically on the 11th.
When you’re my age, you get to look at your career and see the different phases that it passes through.
I remember one year at Wieden, we seemed to make more beautiful, highly-crafted physical books on culture than we did ads.
Now I’m a huge fan of these – and still do them – but that year I think we made about 10, which was frankly ridiculous.
Then there was the year I got told I’d spoken at more conferences than anyone at Wieden.
It wasn’t said as a diss, more a fact – though I do remember Luhr looking at me with the face of someone who couldn’t work out why anyone would want me to talk at their event.
He wasn’t wrong.
Then there was the year I seemed to be in every bloody Asian marketing book or article and then of course, The Kennedys.
It happens. It’s rarely an intentional thing, but the nature of the business means it can be like that … and while I’ll always prefer to be involved in creating stuff, it does let you feel things are evolving and that’s a good feeling.
Frankly people who should know a lot better than to ever want me to work with them … and yet, for reasons I don’t understand but am utterly grateful for, they have.
It’s certainly very different to the work I’ve done in the past, but it not only is introducing me to a whole new world of creative expression – from developing new concert experiences to video game design to stuff that is genuinely almost impossible for me to describe as it’s just plain beautifully bonkers – it’s letting me work with people who are recognised as being the best in their field so to be in this position … and to have Colenso to look forward to in addition … feels like winning the lottery.
I know this all sounds like humble bragging – but that’s not the intent.
To be honest, it’s more about me writing it down so I never forget this feeling.
This moment.
Because as tough as it is for people all around the World, I am very, very fortunate so many good things have come my way.
But that’s not what this post is about, it’s about the other thing I’ve been doing a lot of.
Why people want to hear from me – especially when I write so much bollocks about my life on here – is another thing I don’t get … but it’s been fun.
Recently the lovely/stupid people at Colenso had chat with me for their Love This podcast …
We cover all manner of subjects … from running a planning gang to developing creativity in a pandemic to how to be a fucking idiot … so if you’re bored, an insomniac or are jealous of Colenso’s brilliance and are looking forward to the pain they’ll experience with me in the building, you can listen to it at one of these places.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Chinese Culture, Comment, Context, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Insight, Nike, Otis, Point Of View, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Shanghai, Wieden+Kennedy
Many years ago, we were working on a NIKE project about inspiration for China.
China and sport had a weird relationship because it was either seen as a distraction to academic success or a ruthless and relentless act to achieve a pre-determined goal.
I still remember spending hours looking for any photo where we saw a parent or a teacher or a coach encouraging a kid doing a sport … but it was hard. Not because adults didn’t care about the kids in their charge, but because there was this attitude that encouragement encouraged laziness.
Tough love indeed.
But when we talked to kids who loved sport for no other reason than loving sport, the thing we found fascinating was how one of their great inspirations was a wall … or a court … or a park somewhere near where they lived.
This would be where they could kick, throw, hit, head or play against hour after hour … day after day.
This was where they could play without judgement or expectation … but with plenty of competition.
Because walls don’t get tired.
They don’t show sympathy.
They’re always ready to play.
We all have a wall.
They may look like others.
But there is one that is yours and yours alone.
For me, it was the wall of a Church opposite Erika’s sweet shop at the Top Shop.
It was up the road from my childhood home.
I would go up there every night over summer.
Sometimes by myself. Sometimes with friends.
And that would be the arena and the competition for all manner of games.
From playing footie with empty cans … playing cricket by throwing tennis balls as hard against the wall as we can to just practicing our skills of tennis or keepie-uppie. And then on a Friday evening – after school – a bunch of the kids from where I lived would gather by the field next to the church and play a massive game that drew all the girls from school to watch us.
That wall was a major part of my childhood. Of my love of sport. It helped me connect to where I lived, to the people who lived there and just what I wanted to do.
Sport was deeply entrenched in the place I grew up.
Not in terms of a formal team – though we had that and we also had Nottingham Forest doing well at the time – I mean as an outlet for kids to do shit.
Now I’m not sure if that is still the case.
We live in gentrified times.
Where noise is challenged with authority.
Where parks are placed on the outskirts of towns, not the centre,
Where sport is becoming more about the quest for fame rather than enjoyment.
It’s one of the biggest thrills of living in New Zealand.
It’s still an outdoor culture.
Otis has done more running around and visited more parks here than he ever did in the UK. Which has helped him meet more friends than he could ever have hoped to in his time here.
Given the year he had in lockdown, the impact on him has been huge.
And that’s why we should encourage sport to be played as much on the streets as in the parks and schools. Because sport adds to communities in ways that makes communities.
Let the wall be culture’s best inspiration and competitor.