Mad Man

Given that ad agencies are crammed full of writers, it's a surprise that there aren't more novels set in the world of advertising. Although a few copywriters make the transition into full-blown author-hood - Salman Rushdie and Fay Weldon spring immediately to mind -  they tend to avoid the agency and their former workplace as subject matter, perhaps wanting to distance themselves from it.

Films and TV series seem a more fruitful fictional home for ad people, especially since Mad Men has graced our screens in all its Martini-era glory. And every now and then, a film will pop up featuring an ad man whose conscience gets the better of him, such as Crazy People or What Women Want.

Looking at the handful of novels there are, the most obvious route seems to be to play it for laughs, as in the books by Matt Beaumont. There is dark humour and satire, too in Frederic Beigbeder's 99 Francs, of which I have an English translation that suffers a little, apparently, from the transplantation out of its native tongue. I even admit to having made a start to an ad agency saga myself, with a friend, in the early 90s. It was third-rate chick lit and thankfully, we soon got bored with the project.

I was therefore pleased to come across The Zoo, by ad man Jamie Mollart. He has taken the bold step of writing serious fiction about a completely obnoxious advertising director on a self-destructive downward spiral. I should say as a warning that, despite its title, there's nothing remotely fluffy here. It's a gripping, gritty, nightmarish tale with no holds barred. And it pays off - best if I leave you with my review from amazon and recommend that you read The Zoo yourself:

Almost everyone I know who has worked in advertising or marketing has had attacks of conscience, from the small twinges of "isn't this all a bit trivial" to the full blown attacks of "why I am wasting my life and talents as the mouthpiece for dubious companies." For James Marlowe in "The Zoo", the full blown attack surfaces as part of a heavy cocktail of drink, drugs and family problems as the once-successful ad man's life smashes and fragments into psychosis. "The Zoo" intersperses chapters chronicling this descent into madness with chapters where James is in a psychiatric hospital, his thoughts dominated by "The Zoo" of the title - an enigmatic collection of toy figures. Are these malevolent, or do they represent meaning and possibly redemption?

This story is original and compelling, and like the substances James abuses, totally addictive. The descriptions of the psychotic episodes are nightmarish and visceral - there are touches of William Burroughs here, as well as Irvine Welsh and Bret Easton Ellis. It's an ambitious work, with plenty of social commentary as well as a fascinating glimpse into the subject of blood minerals, via the fictitious African country, Nghosa.

The ad agency lifestyle portrayed is recognisable to anyone who has worked in the business, but I felt it reflected the way things were in the last decades of the last century, rather than how things are today. Advertising agencies in the 21st century are struggling to survive, and have had their wings of excess cut by the bean-counters.

However, I'm pleased that the author created the obnoxious anti-hero James Marlowe. It makes a change to read a story about someone who has next to no redeeming features, but in whom you can recognise (unfortunately) some of your own worst characteristics. "The Zoo" has something in common in this respect with Frederic Beigbeder's "9.99" - it's a mirror to the dark side of ourselves.

Not easy subject matter, but very easily read, "The Zoo" gets a thumbs-up from me.

The Guilty Generation

OK, my generation is probably guilty. Of all that generational cohort naming business, that is. I was born at the end of the Baby Boomer generation, and I think it's us that named ourselves, then went on labelling subsequent generations. Previous generations were, I think, too busy fighting wars and surviving the after-effects of wars to bother about something so trivial.

Now that even the youngest Baby Boomers are over 50, all of us that still work in advertising have got over all those "oh my God, I feel so ancient, everyone else is younger than me" moments and it's now funny to watch our younger Gen X or Y colleagues nervously looking over their shoulders at the next cohort to come along. And the attitude of the authors of such articles is always a sort of make-the-reader-believe-I'm-one-of-this-generation-they-are-just-so-great tone.

Here's an example from Brand Republic: Forget Millenials, brands need to win over Generation Z. The imaginatively-named Generation Z are those born mid 1990s to mid 2000s, so today's teenagers. The article is full of wisdom such as "they are active rather than passive" and "books and music are downloaded, games are played online..." or "they want to be part of debates, they want to feel involved in world issues - look at the recent hit of the Ice Bucket Challenge." There are facts, too: "They make up a quarter of the UK population and have huge spending power." Hmmm, yes, given that half of them aren't legally allowed to work, I wonder where the huge spending power comes from...  now, here's a clue: There's even a chipper head of an ad agency gushing in a Proud Mummy way about how "lucky" she is to have "classic Gen Z" daughters - the engaged, active and empowered young things have started a group called Teenage Feminists!

I have blogged about this stuff before, and I know that it's really just a bit of fluffy marketing fun. But I would warn against taking it too seriously, or basing your entire marketing plan on it. Remember where it comes from: 12-19s saying in a survey (probably online) what they think, believe, do.

For a real look at teenage attitudes, try a WhatsApp chat - you'll be lucky to find a monosyllable amongst the candy necklaces of emoticons. Or for teenage behaviour, try mumsnet for vile things found in teenage rooms - although, who knows, maybe these are all made up, too.

Anyone for Pimm's?

I've blogged about seasonality before, and it's now that wonderful strawberries and asparagus (and yes, you can eat them together) season here in Germany. And back in Blighty, it's time for a Pimm's. Pimm's have been quite smart with their marketing in the last few years, making a choice to throw all their media budget into a seaside bucket and associate the brand with the Great British Summer in all its unpredictability.

Their latest clever trick is a nifty use of digital technology in the form of posters that activate when the temperature goes above 21°C. Now, that's what I call working with audience receptivity!

Pimm's have always been pretty good at marketing, it seems. This article looks at the phenomenon of the Pimm's Party in the 1950s/1960s, when the Pimm's bottle looked like this:

21st century marketers can learn plenty from this 360° Participative Co-Created Big Brand Idea, as I guess we'd call it today. Pimm's provided invitations for the party, suggestions for Jolly Party Games, such as passing the matchbox by nose, or flipping kippers (not entirely sure about either of those after a few Pimm's), snack recipes (fancy Nut Balls, Prune Surprises or Shrimp Thrills?) and some excellent tips (providing plenty of ashtrays, locking up the kids & neighbours, keeping cats away from the drinks, that sort of thing).

Potential party-givers are also reassured that there's "no need to bother about other drinks", in a blatant steam-rollering of any competition.

But there's a warning issued from the brand. It's not something about responsible drinking or being over 18 or any of that business, though.

No, it's the warning to be prepared for "lots of fun and maybe a bit of flattery."

Bottoms up!

Shame Masks

I must admit that I don't worry too much about privacy. Maybe I should, but somehow I don't get the feeling that the NSA or anyone else is terribly interested in what I'm up to. But every now and then I see a piece of brand communication that makes me gulp.

Like this one.



What's going on here is a campaign from an initiative called Hong Kong Cleanup, whose agency Ogilvy and Mather has developed an undeniably clever campaign called The Face of Litter to deter litter louts on the streets of Hong Kong.

What they've done is to collect random litter samples and analyse them using Snapshot DNA phenotyping to create portraits of the culprits (or, presumably anyone that has touched that coffee cup including the friendly and responsible barista who handed it out).

There's not enough info to say exactly whodunnit, but enough to create a likeness on posters and online.

Hmmm.

My first thought was this might be just the thing for publicity-seeking extroverts to get their next kick. The ultimate selfie, all over town and all over the net.

And then my thoughts ran deeper to tarring and feathering, or the shaved heads and placards round the necks of wartime collaborators, or indeed the Schandmaske of mediaeval Germany.

Back to the future? I find it all a little sinister.

Reinventing the Middleman

The internet has had a profound effect on so many aspects of our daily behaviour. Shopping is the obvious one of interest to marketeers, but almost every area of daily life has been affected, from how we learn and educate ourselves to how we stay healthy and treat illness. The overwhelming trend is towards cutting out the middleman, whether it's self-diagnosis to avid a visit to the doctor, or cutting out that time- and energy-consuming trip to the physical store.

One area that has fundamentally changed is booking a holiday. The first step towards booking a hotel used to be through the high street travel agents, but for many people now, it's straight to TripAdvisor to see what other people (we assume like ourselves) have said about the hotels in our chosen resort. We have learned to go beyond the images in the glossy brochures and to seek out reality. So much so that sensible hotels are now putting TripAdvisor comments on their websites.

But there is always the counter trend. I was very interested to witness a complete reinvention of the travel agent in Black Tomato. This new-style travel agent is bringing personalisation back into holiday planning and using the internet to bring the experience to life before and after the actual holiday. The insight and basis is all about the need for individually tailored experiences and great value for time. Using the power of the internet and the possibilities that digital technology brings to the brand's advantage, rather than moaning that the internet is killing off the industry.

I wonder which other moribund services or industries can be reinvented in this way?

Today's trash and tomorrow's art

Do you ever catch yourself doing it? Complaining at length about your offspring's addiction to What'sApp/Minecraft/YouTube/Instagram, yet in the same breath getting all nostalgic and misty-eyed about obscure 1970s TV shows?

Marshall McLuhan, the great communications theorist, expressed it thus: Each new technology creates an environment that is itself regarded as corrupt and degrading. Yet the new one turns its predecessor into an art form.

We can see this in the world of advertising, too. I posted here about the beauty of 1920s London Underground Posters, and our cellar bar is full of replica tin signs, mirrors, and postcards of posters from that marvellous age of advertising.

And, coming more up to date, YouTube itself is packed with compilations of TV ads from the 70s and 80s, some of which are already being hailed as works of art.

Perhaps, in the future, we'll be seeing exhibitions of branded apps turned art.

Marketing with mother

I have written from time to time here about the futility of "marketing to the over 50s". A similarly futile exercise, as I see it, is "marketing to mums." I don't know if anyone else felt vaguely uneasy about the much feted P&G campaign a few years back, around the time of the Olympics: Proud Sponsor of Mums. My uneasiness came from a number of angles - first, the obvious, what about Dads? There was also the manipulative, cheesy tonality of the films. But the uneasiness also came from knowing the agenda at P&G, a company whose main brands are household and baby care products. I even worked on Pampers for a few years and I hate to say this, but there were precious few mums around, on either the client or the agency side. More of that later.

There's a article entitled Marketing to mums is broken in Marketing magazine which touches on this issue. It's written by a woman, who is a mother herself, Nicola Kemp. But, curiously, even in this article, three of the six people who are quoted are men, and it's not clear how many of the women are mothers. Now, I know you don't have to belong to a target group in order to market to that group, but the bias in advertising agencies against mothers still seems to be extreme. Of the three women quoted, one of them said this: There aren't enough female creatives and there aren't enough creatives that are mums. If we changed this, we would do a better job.

The woman who said this is Roisin Donnelly, of P&G. So that, at least, gives me hope.