Ashley is a fictitious name, but there was no one like her.
On my first real day in advertising, in Chicago, I was told I was going to share an office with a new writer who had just graduated from the University of Chicago.
I was thrilled; someone to share this adventure with. Ashley was tall, lanky, quite beautiful and had red Cruella Deville nails. She delivered a sentence like a command from Auntie Mame. Now I knew I was in advertising.
The office we were to share was immense. Ashley had arrived there the week before, and settled into the desk in front of the biggest window. The flowers on the desk arrived yesterday, she said, from a guy at J. Walter Thompson.
Ashley couldn't wait to give me the inside scoop. On the creative director: "He's a sculptor. His things are massive." On the executive art director: "Looks are deceiving." On a junior art director: "He works in pastels. Work with him and you'll get chalk all over your pants."
Ashley and I soon found we both could get our assignments done quickly, and because our bosses were often too busy to deal with us, had a lot of time on our hands. Our office became the place where everyone hung out when they were too tired or too pissed off to think. Fortunately, we had a long green sofa and two loveseats, which either came from Goodwill or were on the way there.
Ashley and I stocked candy, gum, and Ho-Hos from the cigar store, and invented some activities to pass the time between assignments. One we called Cliche Adjectives (death was always "untimely", the truth was always "unvarnished"). I pinned up shelf paper to record our hundreds of adjectives, and we soon needed to go into adverbs. Another game we played was trying to cast movie stars for everyone in the agency, in case Hollywood wanted to make the picture.
I put up a sign over my desk for both of us to absorb whenever someone killed one of our ads. It said "Read a little Wordsworth." That comforted Ashley's intellectual side. So did extended vacations in Latin America. When she was gone I was left alone in that big room staring at my pad of blank yellow paper.
Ashley and I were in different groups. She worked on a mattress account, lingerie, and a salad dressing. I worked on bourbon, wine, and cereals. She wrote booklets about salad fixings, and I invented mixed drink ideas with the help of the bartender in the lounge on the first floor. Both Ashley and I worked on trade ads and Ashley came up with a formula for writing them: SFD=SPT. Translated: Stock, Feature, and Display (the product) for Sales, Profit, and Turnover. It worked every time.
After a year and a half or so, the agency hired a hotshot art director "from New York", and gave him our big office. Ashley and I were moved into our own tiny offices, but it wasn't the same. We'd still go to lunch together twice a week because Ashley figured out we could see a movie a week if we took our lunch break at 11:30 on Wednesdays and 1 on Thursdays, seeing half the film each day.
Eventually, she got a call for a big job at a larger agency, and I left to go somewhere else a few months later. We'd still have lunch once a month, and send off our $15 checks to Stavros, the baby in Greece we supported with Dendy, another friend, through Save the Children. Then the occasional call, the quick after-work drink...we drifted apart, mailing our checks separately to Stavros for six years.
Ashley was my buddy through the tenderest part of my career, and occupies a special place in my heart, by a big window. And no, she's not on Facebook or LinkedIn.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Bugbear sighted in London.
This was in the news on a fashion website:
"Almost 50% of UK women hate shopping for clothes....trying on clothes is the number one shopping bugbear."
Personally, I never met a bugbear I didn't like. However we fashion marketers better be concerned.
.
Is this also true here in the United States, or is this a strictly British phenomenon, like room temperature ale, and the way Queen Elizabeth waves from her limo? How do we know for sure?
We'd better do some research and find out. If customers won't try clothes on, who will buy them?
Happily, this is a problem you can deal with.
First, you'll want to find out if it's true. If it is, you'll want to find out why women don't like trying on clothes. The bother? Being talked into things by the salesperson? Finding out their real sizes? Drafty fitting rooms? Snickering tailors? Modesty? The time it takes? Having to get dressed again? Something you wouldn't have thought of in a million years?
Once you know, you can start coming up with real answers and solutions; changes you could make in the marketing mix. It would make a good assignment for yourself. The trick is to be kind to yourself and not judge your ideas too early. Hold off judging till you've thought of everything. Then evaluate.
If you're a real pro, you can go the extra step and do an ad or two, or come up with a sales promotion idea that would do the job. That is, again, once you knew it was a real problem and found out why.
And what about American men? Do they feel the same way? Is that why they handle a shopping mission like they're Navy Seals, in and out in a heartbeat?
Actually, I wouldn't be too surprised if it was just a British thing. They're not famous for taking their clothes off.
"Almost 50% of UK women hate shopping for clothes....trying on clothes is the number one shopping bugbear."
Personally, I never met a bugbear I didn't like. However we fashion marketers better be concerned.
.
Is this also true here in the United States, or is this a strictly British phenomenon, like room temperature ale, and the way Queen Elizabeth waves from her limo? How do we know for sure?
We'd better do some research and find out. If customers won't try clothes on, who will buy them?
Happily, this is a problem you can deal with.
First, you'll want to find out if it's true. If it is, you'll want to find out why women don't like trying on clothes. The bother? Being talked into things by the salesperson? Finding out their real sizes? Drafty fitting rooms? Snickering tailors? Modesty? The time it takes? Having to get dressed again? Something you wouldn't have thought of in a million years?
Once you know, you can start coming up with real answers and solutions; changes you could make in the marketing mix. It would make a good assignment for yourself. The trick is to be kind to yourself and not judge your ideas too early. Hold off judging till you've thought of everything. Then evaluate.
If you're a real pro, you can go the extra step and do an ad or two, or come up with a sales promotion idea that would do the job. That is, again, once you knew it was a real problem and found out why.
And what about American men? Do they feel the same way? Is that why they handle a shopping mission like they're Navy Seals, in and out in a heartbeat?
Actually, I wouldn't be too surprised if it was just a British thing. They're not famous for taking their clothes off.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
It's not enough to be in vogue.
I'm writing this in Los Angeles. The Fall Collections issue of Paris Vogue is on the newsstands, and all seems right with the world. Carl Sandburg called Chicago the City of Broad Shoulders. This is the City of Bare Shoulders. Everyone seems to be fit, was fit, or is considering being fit tomorrow.
With my sprained foot and cane, I'm hobbling through the morning as the beautiful people are stretching in the spas, walking with good chest-out posture along Wilshire Boulevard, and jogging breathlessly to the beach without seeming to pay much attention to the 70%-off windows in the shops.
We who are into fashion marketing love clothes, of course, and try to be up to the minute on every nuance of fashion. We'd spend our last dime on it. But these are tough times. If people are not personally suffering from the recession, they go through the day half-prepared to be. Spending doesn't come easy.
Even the affluent are careful not to look too well off. And, of course, we Americans are always our cynical selves. It's not enough to tell us. You also have to sell us. We want reasons. Which is something we marketeers cannot allow ourselves to forget.
In our ads and promotions and plans, we always have to be in touch with our customers and what they're going through. They're far more important than our own goals. Research, observation, hand-holding --- whatever it takes to understand our market, we have to meet their needs in order to meet ours. That's what we marketers are paid for.
Coco Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent were geniuses, of course, but they were also right there on the cutting edge of their culture. Anthropologists tell us that fashion is a part of culture, and we have to become students of our own.
Read Vogue and WWD, of course, but don't stop there. Study which books are popular, which movies, which TV shows. Read and see everything you can, including The Wall Street Journal and People.
That last one's important, because ultimately that's where your future lies. With people.
With my sprained foot and cane, I'm hobbling through the morning as the beautiful people are stretching in the spas, walking with good chest-out posture along Wilshire Boulevard, and jogging breathlessly to the beach without seeming to pay much attention to the 70%-off windows in the shops.
We who are into fashion marketing love clothes, of course, and try to be up to the minute on every nuance of fashion. We'd spend our last dime on it. But these are tough times. If people are not personally suffering from the recession, they go through the day half-prepared to be. Spending doesn't come easy.
Even the affluent are careful not to look too well off. And, of course, we Americans are always our cynical selves. It's not enough to tell us. You also have to sell us. We want reasons. Which is something we marketeers cannot allow ourselves to forget.
In our ads and promotions and plans, we always have to be in touch with our customers and what they're going through. They're far more important than our own goals. Research, observation, hand-holding --- whatever it takes to understand our market, we have to meet their needs in order to meet ours. That's what we marketers are paid for.
Coco Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent were geniuses, of course, but they were also right there on the cutting edge of their culture. Anthropologists tell us that fashion is a part of culture, and we have to become students of our own.
Read Vogue and WWD, of course, but don't stop there. Study which books are popular, which movies, which TV shows. Read and see everything you can, including The Wall Street Journal and People.
That last one's important, because ultimately that's where your future lies. With people.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
There's a little Jon Hamm in all of us.
Jon Hamm, who plays me in the TV show "Mad Men", seems to be having a lot more fun than I had.
We did have some colorful people in the agencies I worked for. There was the writer who always had a spare overcoat hanging in his office, so no one would detect that he routinely left around 2:30 with his real coat hidden under his sweater. And the associate creative director who sent out a memo re-naming his whole group after the pretty young writer he was smitten with.
There was the art director who, when presented with his "10 years of service" trophy, simply threw it in the waste basket, grabbed his jacket, walked out of the agency and never returned.And the secretary who couldn't type the client's hyphenated name because, she said, the hyphen key had fallen off her keyboard. Then there was the mat-room apprentice who cut off his thumb with an Xacto knife. He ran out to the elevators screaming, "Don't worry --- I didn't get any blood on the layouts!" ( We were in the General Motors building and the GM company doctor sewed the thumb back on. When the bandages came off weeks later we all discovered a slight mistake. The thumb was sewn on backwards.)
There were many more individuals, but with all the goings on, we were pretty serious about our profession. We showed up at meetings on time, and never failed to have our work in hand. We didn't drink in our own offices, rarely flirted before 5, and always met deadlines no matter how unreasonable. When we got an assignment we were our own worst critics and sweated it out till we had something we could be proud of. If you "couldn't think of anything" you had to start thinking about getting a new job.
As a creative director, I always told the group they had two weeks on every assignment; one week of play time to fool around with crazy ideas, and one week of serious time to put the crazy ideas to work.
Advertising and marketing aren't at all like "Mad Men". They're more like working for a living.
We did have some colorful people in the agencies I worked for. There was the writer who always had a spare overcoat hanging in his office, so no one would detect that he routinely left around 2:30 with his real coat hidden under his sweater. And the associate creative director who sent out a memo re-naming his whole group after the pretty young writer he was smitten with.
There was the art director who, when presented with his "10 years of service" trophy, simply threw it in the waste basket, grabbed his jacket, walked out of the agency and never returned.And the secretary who couldn't type the client's hyphenated name because, she said, the hyphen key had fallen off her keyboard. Then there was the mat-room apprentice who cut off his thumb with an Xacto knife. He ran out to the elevators screaming, "Don't worry --- I didn't get any blood on the layouts!" ( We were in the General Motors building and the GM company doctor sewed the thumb back on. When the bandages came off weeks later we all discovered a slight mistake. The thumb was sewn on backwards.)
There were many more individuals, but with all the goings on, we were pretty serious about our profession. We showed up at meetings on time, and never failed to have our work in hand. We didn't drink in our own offices, rarely flirted before 5, and always met deadlines no matter how unreasonable. When we got an assignment we were our own worst critics and sweated it out till we had something we could be proud of. If you "couldn't think of anything" you had to start thinking about getting a new job.
As a creative director, I always told the group they had two weeks on every assignment; one week of play time to fool around with crazy ideas, and one week of serious time to put the crazy ideas to work.
Advertising and marketing aren't at all like "Mad Men". They're more like working for a living.
Monday, July 4, 2011
"To be or not to be," he blogged.
I'm beginning to wonder if the blogging life is for me.
For one thing, you'll notice I've had to put my first name in the masthead. A woman from Maine, I think, has had "The Daily Bailey" as a title since April, 2009, and she'll get all the hits because she's prettier than I am.
For another, I'm constantly blogging in my mind. The notebook I used to carry around in case I had an idea for a class, or a commercial, is now filled with notes for this blog.
Right now I'm in a Starbucks in Santa Monica and instead of reading The New York Times, I'm writing a blog and getting maple oat scone crumbs on everything. I sprained my ankle last night looking at an art construction on my friend Arnold's lawn, so I should be home with my leg elevated, but I'm here blogging.
My first real mentor in advertising (and life) was Tom Murray. He used to tell about people who would come to him and say they couldn't decide whether to be copywriters or art directors. Tom would answer fiercely. "Become an art director! Writers know they have to write."
I think that's true and an important career lesson. I'm not happy on a day when I haven't written something, and blogging helps.
In advertising and marketing, you learn to condense, simplify, shorten, and eliminate, and I might be over-trained. If I had to write my autobiography, it would probably turn out to be no longer than six paragraphs and end in a preposition. The history of Western civilization? Give me 30 seconds.
As you can see, blogging can be more leisurely, and they say stretching is good for you. I tell myself that I'm writing these blogs to encourage my students when the next quarter begins, but the truth is, writing is fun. I suggest you get a thick notebook and write your own blog.
Soon I'll start putting ads to critique on here and I won't even have time for the scone.
For one thing, you'll notice I've had to put my first name in the masthead. A woman from Maine, I think, has had "The Daily Bailey" as a title since April, 2009, and she'll get all the hits because she's prettier than I am.
For another, I'm constantly blogging in my mind. The notebook I used to carry around in case I had an idea for a class, or a commercial, is now filled with notes for this blog.
Right now I'm in a Starbucks in Santa Monica and instead of reading The New York Times, I'm writing a blog and getting maple oat scone crumbs on everything. I sprained my ankle last night looking at an art construction on my friend Arnold's lawn, so I should be home with my leg elevated, but I'm here blogging.
My first real mentor in advertising (and life) was Tom Murray. He used to tell about people who would come to him and say they couldn't decide whether to be copywriters or art directors. Tom would answer fiercely. "Become an art director! Writers know they have to write."
I think that's true and an important career lesson. I'm not happy on a day when I haven't written something, and blogging helps.
In advertising and marketing, you learn to condense, simplify, shorten, and eliminate, and I might be over-trained. If I had to write my autobiography, it would probably turn out to be no longer than six paragraphs and end in a preposition. The history of Western civilization? Give me 30 seconds.
As you can see, blogging can be more leisurely, and they say stretching is good for you. I tell myself that I'm writing these blogs to encourage my students when the next quarter begins, but the truth is, writing is fun. I suggest you get a thick notebook and write your own blog.
Soon I'll start putting ads to critique on here and I won't even have time for the scone.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Please drive safely. Blog readers are hard to find.
This week I saw a sign in a liquor store that said "Buy a fifth for the Fourth".
Catchy, but I hope it doesn't catch you. The July Fourth holiday is the deadliest of all for alcohol-related accidents and deaths on the road. Even more than New Year's.
Years ago I created a series of two-page ads (they're called "double trucks"or "spreads") for General Motors. The ads were filled with holiday safe driving tips, and appeared in 600 newspapers. The ads were quite popular, and talk show hosts across the country actually read them on the air.
But still, with all being written and said, year after year, some people don't buckle up, have one for the road, don't pay attention, get distracted, and die on the highways every holiday.
Please don't drive and drink. Please don't have a fifth on the Fourth.
As one of my ads said, "Don't turn Independence Day into Memorial Day".
You're too important to me.
Catchy, but I hope it doesn't catch you. The July Fourth holiday is the deadliest of all for alcohol-related accidents and deaths on the road. Even more than New Year's.
Years ago I created a series of two-page ads (they're called "double trucks"or "spreads") for General Motors. The ads were filled with holiday safe driving tips, and appeared in 600 newspapers. The ads were quite popular, and talk show hosts across the country actually read them on the air.
But still, with all being written and said, year after year, some people don't buckle up, have one for the road, don't pay attention, get distracted, and die on the highways every holiday.
Please don't drive and drink. Please don't have a fifth on the Fourth.
As one of my ads said, "Don't turn Independence Day into Memorial Day".
You're too important to me.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Mr. Hopkins' Hat Trick
Every morning that I don't teach an 8 o'clock class, there's a good chance you'll find me at Pane Italiano Qualita, the incredible new bakery and cafe in Berkeley.
I've always had more success working on ads and commercials in cafes than I do at my desk, and there's something about PIQ that I like even more than the chocolate croissants, the strong coffee, and the breakfast pizzas: the people who traipse through the place.
Being with what the Dove campaign calls "real people" has always comforted me. PIQ attracts slick millenials, anxious young mamas, sleeveless students and all kinds of other happy, grumpy, busy civilians coming in slightly stressed and leaving with renewed optimism. At least something went right in their day.
I've always seen myself as going through life as sort of a camera, taking in people's looks, their tones of voice, snatches of conversations, public posturing, lover's glances, and everyone's worries. Am I the strong, silent type? No, the advertising creative type.
To be good in advertising and marketing, you have to love people. You have to embrace their vulnerabilities. You have to try to understand how they think. You soon learn there's more to life than just doing it; more to be concerned about than squeezing toilet paper. All of us have real dreams, hopes, and fears. These are the realities that are stronger than most ads and marketing plans.
Claude Hopkins, a successful early advertising copywriter, was asked how he gets ideas. He said he performed his hat trick. He put on his hat and went out to observe people in stores, in restaurants, in their daily lives.
I recommend the hat trick. Any time you need a fresh idea, you'll find it over there --- with your customers. Concentrate on their needs and you'll never go wrong.
Grazie mille.
I've always had more success working on ads and commercials in cafes than I do at my desk, and there's something about PIQ that I like even more than the chocolate croissants, the strong coffee, and the breakfast pizzas: the people who traipse through the place.
Being with what the Dove campaign calls "real people" has always comforted me. PIQ attracts slick millenials, anxious young mamas, sleeveless students and all kinds of other happy, grumpy, busy civilians coming in slightly stressed and leaving with renewed optimism. At least something went right in their day.
I've always seen myself as going through life as sort of a camera, taking in people's looks, their tones of voice, snatches of conversations, public posturing, lover's glances, and everyone's worries. Am I the strong, silent type? No, the advertising creative type.
To be good in advertising and marketing, you have to love people. You have to embrace their vulnerabilities. You have to try to understand how they think. You soon learn there's more to life than just doing it; more to be concerned about than squeezing toilet paper. All of us have real dreams, hopes, and fears. These are the realities that are stronger than most ads and marketing plans.
Claude Hopkins, a successful early advertising copywriter, was asked how he gets ideas. He said he performed his hat trick. He put on his hat and went out to observe people in stores, in restaurants, in their daily lives.
I recommend the hat trick. Any time you need a fresh idea, you'll find it over there --- with your customers. Concentrate on their needs and you'll never go wrong.
Grazie mille.
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