Monday 8 February 2010

A Roses shoo-in



As a rule, I don't normally criticise other people's output in the blog.

I think that should be the preserve of those who've demonstrated their creative credentials beyond doubt. And as I've consistently failed to trouble compilers of The Great Advertising canon, I hesitate to point fingers.

On this, though, I think I'm on pretty safe critics' ground:

Interestingly, the Tudor Rose blog proudly states: "we had a choice of paying for highly paid actors to do our new TV adds [sic] or keep it in house.We kept it in house, and used all our own family members. This keeps us in-line with who we are..."


That'll be rank amateurs with no notion of quality, then....

Wednesday 3 February 2010

Trade secrets


Having promised to protect with my life the fine detail of the marketing revolution therein, I take delivery of another set of corporate design guidelines.

I skip past the  primary and secondary colour palette. Pantones 4625 C and 158 C. Radical

I glance at the chosen typfaces. Helvetica Black and Helvetica Neue Light. I can see why these guys don't want a word of this to leak out.

I arrive at the recommendations for copy. Incredibly, it suggests I make my writing 'friendly', 'approachable' and 'conversational... as if talking across the table to a friend.'

Not just that. They also I insist I make it 'clear', 'engaging' and 'honest.'

Jeez. It's going to be a wrench adapting my usual hostile, standoffish and downright deceitful house style, but I'll give it my best shot...


Thursday 28 January 2010

Words that tell you the job is dead in the water No 2



The meeting has gone well. The Chief Suit and his Delectable Young Executive have nodded and 'Mmm'd enthusiastically in all the right places, and now, on the table between you, there are three neat piles of work.

The Suit rolls his shoulders and gathers his thought. It's time for him to bless the meeting with his opinion.

His hand hovers above the first pile. "This idea is pretty much what the client is expecting, I think.  I certainly wouldn't be uncomfortable taking it into  the meeting.

"This route" - addressing the middle pile now -  "is really interesting. I like the direction you've pushed it in and I'm sure there's something in it we can talk about, don't you?" DYE nods brightly in agreement.

Turning to the third and final stack of ideas: "This one might be just a little too left field. I think it's really clever, but I'm wondering if it's more of a revolution then the evolution we're looking for right now. I'd say it was probably something we'd look at running in Year Two..."

And that's it. It's dead.

Like tomorrow, Year Two never comes. It lies there, just beyond the horizon, a tantalising Shangri La of boundless TV budgets, brave clients and expansive outdoor campaigns that  recedes with every step you take towards it.

It's is the worse kind of creative kiss off because it leaves you with a lingering promise of 'giving it another go', like an ex-lover whose memory you can't shake. But it's an empty promise, devoid of hope and tinged with bitterness.

Some creatives claimed to have seen Year Two. Some to have walked its gilded streets. In almost every case, however, it's a delusion forged in a mind fevered by the sixth rewrite of a brochure for a client offering bespoke back office support software for the financial sector.

If you suffer death by Year Two, put it behind you with all the dignity you can muster. Accept it, move on. And remember, there's always next year.