I have a confession to make: Sometimes I forget my bags on purpose so I can buy a new one.  

I am definitely an observer of other people's habits.  I don't mean to be; it only leads to making snap judgments and that is not okay.  I work pretty hard at "removing the plank" if you know what I mean.  But I have to admit, I can not help being judgmental towards people who refuse to use the green bags!  And I really do know people who have said "I'm not going to waste money on that."  What what???  I'm thinkin' buying a few bags and reusing them over and over buys your children extra space in the landfill one day!  If  you haven't seen the movie "Wall-E" I suggest you do.  I believe that kid's movie probably would have more of an effect on people than Al Gore's documentary... Or at least people on the far right of the political spectrum.

Arguments I have heard:

1.  "They cost money."  Yep, usually about 99 cents.  That is less than a tin of Altoids.  If you buy one every time you go to the store, you'll have a stockpile in a hurry.

2.  "I can't remember to take them with me."  Well, okay...I forget occasionally too.  But you are still helping the times you do remember! I found that now that I have them, I feel very guilty walking out with only a few things when I forget.  So I have been carrying out what I have bought instead of taking a plastic sack for only a few things, like I would have before.

3.  "I should get free bags for as much money as I spend on food."  Okay...I'm not going here.

I use these bags for everything!  I used them to move my classroom.  I used them to pack for vacation.  And since I have so many colors, I was able to color code what I packed very well.  They are nifty, and I can't wait till someone comes out with a red one.  I need some bold colors to add to my collection.

We must, must, must, improve this planet for our children.  If that is not seen as a valid reason to use them, no argument will work.  Ask Wall-E!

Amy - CLP, Woods Run

I want to give props to a campaign idea that knocked me out. Not so much because of the executions (although they’re fine), but for its line. Yes, this copywriter went gaga over a sentence. It happens. I felt that way about “Curiously Strong Mints” or “Nothing runs like a Deere.”

The current object of my affection is for Secret antiperspirant. The line: Secret. Because you’re hot.

Get it? Women perspire…because they’re hot. And they’re beautiful, sexy, desirable…Hot. That’s good copy, my friends: simple, direct, and original.

Hamstrung by a difficult category, the campaign probably won’t win many creative prizes. But it’s powerful advertising. As a writer, I know how excited I would have been creating and, for that matter, presenting this idea. As a creative director I would have had a hard time concentrating on anything else.

Executed properly, that sentence -nay, that declaration- could transform Secret from a tier two deodorant to a pop culture must have. Done right “Because you’re hot” is the elusive and proverbial BIG IDEA. That’s what clients pay us to create: sentences like that. If you’re a copywriter and think otherwise I want to hear why.

I love it when advertising copy has this kind of power. Lots of clever lines get written, read and forgotten. Few become transcendent. Those lines tend to be more smart than clever. You don’t even have to like the product or the advertising to appreciate them. I worked on the original “Not your father’s Oldsmobile” campaign. That line was a perfect example. “Because you’re hot” might be another.

"Nice Altoids, Boys!"

In a honor of Gay Pride week I’d like to give the gay community a shout-out for their uncanny ability at predicting and/or creating trends. No group of people I know are as adept at predicting the future for fashion, neighborhoods and brands as this stylish minority.

Background: I grew up in the Lake View neighborhood in Chicago. During the 70’s New Town (as it was called) was vastly different from the bustling and trendy neighborhood it is now. Latin street gangs patrolled and regularly fought over turf in the blocks north and south of Wrigley field. The only time it was truly safe to traverse these troubled blocks was during home games for the then lowly Chicago Cubs.

Enter the first gay pioneers. Attracted to the housing stock and cheap rents, they saw something in the rows of battered two-flats and graffiti-ridden apartment buildings. Maybe it was the proximity to our lakefront or perhaps it was the closest to Lincoln Park their “kind” was allowed. Regardless, they arrived replete with big ideas and Donna Summer blaring on the radio. Window treatments went up. Gentry-fication erupted and never stopped.

I won’t comment on what kind of impact all this had on my adolescence. Watching two men go at it on a dumpster was quite a 'slap to the cerebellum.' More pleasant was the change to my scruffy, downright dangerous neighborhood. Within ten years Lakeview became one of Chicago’s darling neighborhoods -our little village. Without the collective intuition of my gay brethren none of this would have happened. Chicago owes them a debt of gratitude.

And so do many other phenomena, including the rise of numerous commercial brands. Absolut vodka comes to mind. This bit player became a huge phenomenon in American culture because of two things: a killer print campaign and the passionate following of gay consumers. They embraced the simple, clear bottle and the series of arty posters from TBWA, making both icons. For better or worse, disco music was gay music. John Travolta merely finished what countless other young men started. The same can be said for health and fitness. Working out was gay religion. Arnold’s movie, Pumping Iron, came out in 1977. The rest is history. And so on and so forth...

Indeed, watching the gay parade last week was like watching popular culture marching forward, the festive floats sponsored by countless forward thinking brands, and supported by a coterie of ambitious politicians. They weren’t there for the free condoms. They wanted support from the gay community. Same as all the sponsors.

Here is my progress note:

From and including: Saturday, June 28, 2008 at 11:55:00 PM
To, but not including : Monday, June 30, 2008 at 2:59:23 PM

* 140,663 seconds
* 2344 minutes (rounded down)
* 39 hours (rounded down)

Wish me luck guys!

Here is my progress note:

From and including: Saturday, June 28, 2008 at 11:55:00 PM
To, but not including : Monday, June 30, 2008 at 2:59:23 PM

 

 

* 140,663 seconds
* 2344 minutes (rounded down)
* 39 hours (rounded down)

Wish me luck guys!

Alert! I wrote this for Adweek's Cannes blogger series (Thank you, Adweek!) and now I'd like to share it with readers here.

Met with Gary Smith, editor of the Cannes Daily (the festival’s newspaper) to discuss my workshop at the Palais on Friday. The workshop is entitled “Inspiring Belief: turning consumers into believers.” The central idea is that advertisers need to go beyond communicating a strategic framework if they hope to engender a passionate following for their brands. We’ll look at how religion makes this happen for their “brands” and what implications this has on the future of marketing.

Think about the creative mythology behind Christianity. Among his many miracles, Jesus Christ was able to walk on water. His disciples were compelled to “do unto others…” Is it blasphemous to suggest modern day advertisers need to model their messaging the same way? Nike would have us believe not. With a pair of shoes, Michael Jordan could walk on air. And by donning a pair of Air Jordans, so can we –A miracle! “Just do it” has become the clarion call for an entire nation. We are devoted to sports like never before and Nike is the reason. Michael Jordan was our “messiah.” More recent communications ask us not to merely watch LeBron James play basketball but to “bear witness.”

I continue to be fascinated by creative propaganda and the parallels it has with cults, movements and religion. These themes are central to my blog, Godsofadvertising as well as in my upcoming novel, The Happy Soul Industry. I believe the overlap is unavoidable in our business. Nor should it be.

Besides Nike, we have seen this phenomenon working with other brands (Apple, Harley Davidson, Altoids). Can you name some more? Starbucks managed to become a church for its customers without advertising much at all. But now they are losing share. What will there approach be now that they need advertising.?

Hard as it is reaching such branding nirvana, I believe advertisers must aspire to do so in order to compete in a crowded and noisy marketplace. Chasing Gold Lions is but pagan ritual compared to this loftiest of goals. Yet, the best ideas on earth will be the ones that do so. Amen!

The play officially premiers Thursday. And no, it's not a musical. And no, I had no idea what I was in for. Looking back now I believe that's a good thing. If you'd tried to tell me, I wouldn't have believed you. I never do. I'm an experiential learner. Besides, who would have believed this?

You'll sit in costume, in the near dark, for 14 hours a day, for a week solid.
You'll get a stomach ache from nervously eating so many Altoids.
You'll understand the meaning of the term "tech rehearsal."
You'll move at the painfully slow place required to button up every detail, from the positioning of the stage lights, to debating the color of your pants (white, or off-plum? Plum).
You'll never be so tired and so thrilled at the same time.
You'll never see so many creative minds coming together on a daily basis.
Your knees will knock at the top of the first song at Sunday's preview.
You're in for the biggest adventure of your life.

Yesterday, the Outdoor Association of America (OAAA) posted on YouTube my acceptance speech at the Obie Awards for receiving Hall of Fame status for Altoids.

The actual event took place about a month ago in Miami and it was a gas. Among other things, I got to share the stage with Miss America. (She was pretty but -no surprise- a bit of a run-on sentence.)

Anyway, against my better judgment, I'm adding the video here. Now you can place my words with a face -a face that talks and makes questionable decisions but at least manages to smile a lot. For whatever reason my opening was cut, the part where I thanked the two other souls most responsible for the Altoids campaign: my ex-partner, Mark Faulkner and the photographer, Tony D'orio.

Otherwise, it's not the worst job I've done on stage. But you be the judge.

PS: The phantom space I keep pointing to off camera was a showcase for the ads. Below is our most famous execution.

I just turned one of my popular necklace designs into a cute gift set of magnets. These magnets can be purchased from my Etsy Shop: www.majentadesigns.etsy.com

These 1"x1" glass magnets are made out of handmade chiyogami paper (traditional Japanese washi paper). This set includes 3 aqua pieces and 3 seafoam green pieces.

These magnets are both useful and decorative for your home, work, school, or dorm room. They can be used on:

-refrigerator
-filing cabinet
-locker
-dorm room
-mirror

These magnets come with a cute and practical gift tin which makes these magnets perfect for gift giving. The tin can be reused to store your mints, emergency sewing kit, buttons, secret knickknacks, etc.! This magnet giftset is perfect for all occasions:

-birthday
-graduation
-bridal shower
-housewarming
-teacher appreciation
-ANYTIME!

Recently, we pitched the account of a leading builder and developer of high-end retirement communities. We did not advance very far –a mixed blessing- but I got a glimpse at what few of us know, or care to know about: the beginning of our end.

It is widely believed that no other creature is aware of its mortality save Man. Even so, we don’t have many bright ideas on how to do “it.” For all its inevitability, dying does not come naturally to us. On the contrary, I believe as a nation we are all in some form of denial.  Any reminder of our passing and we turn tail and run. We avoid talk of convalescent homes -for our loved ones, and for ourselves.

The last act is seldom advertised. We see images of golf and gardening. But they are fuzzy, dated feeling. We sense reality is making puzzles, the occasional bus ride to a casino, and TV…endless hours of watching TV. And we do not want to go out that way.

The retirement community we toured claimed the very best in late life living. It had CONVENIENCE. It had RECREATION. It had SAFETY. Our guide likened the community to an idealized small town, where the doctor knew you by first name, there were never any lines at the bank, and the pool was always 80 degrees. But despite these trappings there was the unmistakable element of dread, kind of like being in a church basement or hospital. More than a keen observation, this is a confirmation of the problem, our refusal to accept the end for what it is: a great slowing down preceding collapse.

That the client wanted a better image for its brand goes without saying! I thought likening the whole experience to being on “campus” might prove invigorating. A safe but stimulating environment where people grew instead of withered. Certainly an improvement on the antiquated “Mayberry” vibe they were currently touting.

Most of us fear Death. But the step before it is just as grim: Irrelevance. Move into a retirement community and you might as well just check your relevance at the front desk with Dorothy. “You won’t be needing that here!”

As I said, we did not advance in our discussions.

Whatever. I’m sure I’ll see the dross they chose one night trolling cable. Old men on golf carts. Widows bobbing in the water. Lectures in the chapel. They’ll need 30 minutes at least to capture all this info in a ‘mercial.

In a way, I’m glad we didn’t prevail in our pitch. Winning this business would have been the kiss of death.

How does the old Steely Dan song go: “And I’m never going back to my old school.”

Well, after 23 years I finally did. On April 24th I accepted an invitation to speak at Professor Dhavan Shah’s advanced communications course at the University Of Wisconsin in Madison. (pictured w/ beard) UW had been trying to get me up there for years and, for no good reason or all kinds of good reasons (I’m not sure which), I always demurred. Selfishly, I’d rationalized that since my folks paid out of state tuition I owed the college nothing. Nice guy, huh?

And so I found myself at the lectern staring out at some 60 juniors and seniors, the future of my business, the new Gods of Advertising! I was as nervous as if I were standing before the Global Product Committee of General Motors. (Speaking to a group, any group at all, continues to be one of the most all-encompassing things I will ever do. Nothing is more exciting or scary. It is somehow both empowering and humbling. Those of you who have done it know what I’m talking about.) But I digress…

The Facebook generation was looking right at me. Hotties and Hippies. The pierced. The hung-over. The ambitious and ambivalent. College, baby! When I had sat in those very seats the only apples we brought to class were for eating and then they were usually burritos. Computing was but an obscure class on the other side of campus, personal computing the odd dream of odd students. Here and now, everyone had his or her laptops open. I wasn’t sure if they were I-chatting or taking notes. Either way, I had to capture their attention. Despite Prof. Shah’s lofty introduction I saw myself as some older, balder intruder.

Perfect. I love a challenge.

What I had for them was a presentation I’d given at Cannes a few years ago entitled “Inspiring Belief.” The basic idea being that great brands created a myth about themselves, which, if done well, turned idle consumers into fanatic believers. I showed a video and followed with a 20-minute presentation.

Without going into it, the class ate it up. And rightly so. It’s good stuff. Meant to be inspiring, not daunting. I’d spent a lot of time on this thing and I knew and believed in the material. Writing it got me my first boondoggle at Cannes. And now it was going to inspire the newest generation of brand builders. Oh, Jerusalem!

After the class the Prof took me on a tour of Madtown. Wildly different but, in many ways, still the same ramshackle bohemia. We paused at the various dumps I called home. Shah snapped a picture of me pointing at my bedroom window on West Doty Street. (see above) We drove by the saloons that started me on a path that could only end in 12 Steps. I remembered working on the newspapers here, all three of them. I recalled my goofy roommates: a Korean exchange student and a farmer’s only son. Of course they adored me. Me with my long hair, an earring, bandanna and Judas Priest concert tee shirt. Sexy!

All those thoughts. And a hundred more. I think now the reason I hadn’t gone back to school was because it reminds me of a time I can never have back. (Insert violin music here)

We closed the evening in a small, glitzy bar non-existent in my day. The cliental were very dressed up. Guys in jackets. Dresses on the girls. Shah told me it was part of a relatively new phenomenon on campus he called the “Sex in the City” phase. Lots of martinis and cosmos. Silky clothes. An upscale vibe with more than a hint of implied sex later. Back when, we drank 7&7s against a juke box blaring Van Halen. Most of the time we went home drunk with a sack of junk food. A musician friend once wrote a song about it: "If you can't get a girl, get a gyro." Progress.

Look, I don’t have a moral to this story, or a theme, or even a point. I just wanted to capture a bit of it before another 23 years passed me by. Who knows –the next time I return to UW it might be with my daughter in tow.

Anyone who happened be in that class I welcome your post. Validate my trip beyond these waxed over memories!

Judging by the lack of comments both on and off this blog, no one appears to give two shits about my critique of the new Altoids campaign. Either that, or I was so spot on that my words, in effect, became the last word on the subject.

Truth be told even I think most criticism is folly. Especially when it is pointed at advertising. At least movie reviews give us a sense on whether we should spend our hard earned dollars on them. Yet advertising is in our face whether we like it or not. And most of us mostly don’t give a shit –hence the non-event that was my review of Altoids.

True story: In college I wanted to be a music journalist for none other than Rolling Stone. Back then it was still a relevant magazine. In pursuit of this goal, I reviewed albums and concerts for both my college newspapers at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. Highlights include a resounding thumbs up I gave to the Replacements and Violent Femmes. If not for me who knows where these two bands would have wound up? Anyway, I also reviewed plenty of local talent, including a hair band called Whiz Kid. Whiz Kid played Lover Boy and Head East covers for drunken sorority girls (and the men who love them) at various venues around town. For 2 bucks a head one got 3 sets of music.

Like almost every novice critic I rejoiced in ripping no-talent outfits to shreds. Whiz Kid was no exception. I might not be up on that stage but I had my pen, which was mightier than any Flying V. So I made fun of their lame choice of music, their gay outfits and their ridiculously big hair. I used every bit of my marginal writing ability to tear them a new one. And then I promptly forgot about it.

Not Whiz Kid. A couple weeks later I ran into the lead singer at an after-bar party. He asked me why I laid into his band. I said, no disrespect, but you sucked. I mean Lover Boy… Give me a break!

The vocalist did not punch me. Instead he hit me with something far more lasting. He told me the reason Whiz Kid played shit music was to get gigs, which he needed in order to pay rent and put food on the table for his wife and kids. He told me none of the bars in town hired original talent unless they were famous. Whiz kid was not. He had to sing “Working for the Weekend” because that’s what 19-year old girls (and the men who love them) paid money to see.

From that night on, I never had the ambition to publish criticism ever again. I had been stifled by the truth. Whiz Kid was literally working for the weekend, every weekend, in order to survive. I felt I had no right to criticize them for doing so. I was not aiding the culture in any way. I was merely hurting the band.

As for my review of the new Altoids campaign, I assumed there’d be interest because of my previous involvement with the brand. Not surprisingly, there wasn’t! Call it Whiz Kid’s revenge.

In 1995, Mark Faulkner and I created the “Curiously Strong Mints” campaign for Altoids. We made all of the work and managed the account for a decade. When we left Leo Burnett in 2003, we handed the reigns to our best lieutenants and they carried on marvelously.

Now the business is at BBDO Chicago. And while that agency is a direct competitor and Altoids is my dearly beloved I will try mightily to avoid sour grapes –unless of course referring to a new flavor.

The new campaign does not suck. But it is not brilliant either. What is brilliant about the new campaign is that it does not suck. No small feat. Altoids advertising seized popular culture in a way few ad campaigns do. Repeating that success with something different is perhaps a no-win situation. But doing more of the same an even dicier proposition.

So Altoids did what Absolut vodka did. They evolved their campaign, retaining elements, redesigning some, and losing others. You can still see the brands DNA in the language and typography as well as in the tone and manner. Whether it comes across as a crude face-lift or a brilliant recreation I’m still on the fence.

BBDO & Altoids walked away from “Curiously Strong” and replaced it with “a slap to the cerebellum.” The latter is a nifty headline; much like the ones I treasured writing. A big, antiquated noun in cerebellum. Fun verb like slap. Love it. But tis no ‘curious strength.’

For me, the pairing of those two words was everything: the brand essence, the strategy, a business idea, and the best expression of a brand I’d ever seen. In fact, we look for such words for all of our clients now. Finding them is hard. Hold on to them when you do.

To walk away from “Curiously Strong Mints” as theme for Altoids is ballsy but a mistake. I suppose in some respects a slap to the cerebellum is curious, implying strength. But it’s also peculiar and small. True story- At the campaign’s birth we had a great line: “Mints so strong they come in a metal box.” There was considerable debate to make it our theme. And it almost was. Thankfully, it became our very first headline instead. That should have happened here.

The headline BBDO are using in their first ad “Awakens like a horsewhip on the back flesh” is certainly curious and strong. Brutal too. Though not my style, I haven’t a problem with its meanness. It’s not like we never played that card. Frankly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if such a line came from our bullpen.

Relatively new for Altoids is a TV commercial. In it a Victorian gal solves a dilemma for a zany, Victorian inventor by eating an Altoids. Voila! They discover a barnyard animal stuck in his wacky Victorian machinery. Sort of get it. Sort of don’t. It has a Harry Potter look, which is appropriate, if cliché. But, again, the strategy is no longer about curious strength. Instead they are positioning Altoids as a smart-maker, awkwardly reminiscent of Mentos. A disappointment. Last detail: Isn’t the cerebellum used for motor functions and not thinking? Did no one look up the word? The line makes no sense in context with the commercial. This wouldn’t matter (as much) if it were merely a headline in a print ad.

So, a mixed review from the Gods of Advertising. The new campaign will get noticed. And it does pick up where we left off. But it only breaks new ground by abandoning the world’s most money theme line. And that’s not using your cerebellum.

An experienced backpacker carries a can of Altoids. If you compliment him or her on the candy, you'll instantly give yourself away as a tenderfoot traveler. Nestled in the can is in fact a tiny survival kit. Here are a few extra uses. What other travel uses for a can of Altoids can you come up with?

This post shows my first attempt at altering Altoid tins. I'm putting miniature scrapbooks inside of the Altoid tins for some friends and family members this year. Hopefully they're not reading this blog post before they get their gift!

For me, the secrets are in getting the dimensions of the rectangles for the top, bottom, and insides of the tin. I say it's 2.25" by 3.5" but you have an extra eighth of an inch to work with on the longer side.

I cut paper rectangles 2 1/8th inch by 3 1/2 inch, and then used a corner rounder I bought for $8 at Michael's. A 3 7/8th inch long side also works if you want to cover more but you have to glue precisely.

For some of the tins, I cut a 1/2 inch by 12 inch strip of paper to cover the side, although you could use 11 inch paper length and still get all the way around the tin. Ribbon also works well, so I used that for some of the circumferences of the tins.

With my foam brush I put a thin layer of Mod Podge on the tin and put the paper rectangles on, then smoothed out any air bubbles. I didn't need to do anything to the tin itself except for wash it out, no sanding required.

I bought the tins from an Austinite on Craiglist - over 30 tins for $3. I had all the supplies in my growing scrapbooking and stamping collection except for that corner rounder.

And if all those supplies are not around your house but you want to get your hands on some altered Altoid tins, pop over to Etsy.com. Those designs blow mine out of the water!

 I'm going to write Friday night's episode as a lesson on how not to shoot myself in the foot and how not to ask for it. I lost my watch; one that was given to me as a gift. Only because I asked for it. You get choices in life and if you pick one, you have to stand by it. Even if it's the wrong one and you're left wondering why the fuck you did so the afternoon after. Write it off as something I lost when I torched my own roof. So be it.

 I met a Mark-double Friday night. He was sitting on the steps outside dialing for a cab. Linda was trying to get one as well to take us to the club so I sat beside him while she did that. He reminded me so much of Mark that I had to stop and catch a breath. I asked if he was working for the British Council and he said he was a Scientist. I told him I majored in BioMedical Science and he expressed doubts.

 He said, "So you're an Asian with really white teeth, chewing gum and majoring in BioMedical Science?"

 "Yeah, do you want proof?" I answered, while trying to capture his face.

 "I thought gum was illegal here. How did you get yours? And do you have some with you?" He moved on; clearly displaying signs that he was FOTP (Fresh Off The Plane).

 I told him I didn't bring any with me. But I offered him some Altoids instead.

 His cab arrived 10 seconds later and he hopped on; only to lean out; door wide open, looked at me and looked at Linda and said something along the lines of, "Take good care of him would you? He's a special bunch of trouble. That he is!"

 I could have jumped into his cab and wrangled something more out of him but I didn't. I just stood there, and watched his cab drive off.

 I thought about Mark and how I should give him a call. But I don't know how I'm going to construct my words into sentences that makes sense or warrant my calling him up. And if he even wants to speak to me. There is no room to justify the bastard I was to him and I wish there was a way I could make things right. Some way I could learn how not to bite the hands that used to love me.

 Some way to learn how not to die emotionally alone.

 I tried to track down the pair of Lanvin Patent Derby shoes today but was told that the store here wouldn't be bringing it in. So I popped into the Calvin Klein store and got a shirt. I also got a tailor reconmmendation from one of the chicks working there. I took my new purchase in and it would be ready tomorrow. Talk about being efficient. If this tailor works out well, I would be pleased. I have a bunch of new shirts all waiting for him to start working on. I also bought a pretty cool cashmere cardigan at Helmut Lang on Friday.

 I'm going to start wrapping Christmas presents. It is, after all, better to give than to receive.

U NEEDS AN ALTOIDS

photo: ICHCF
capped and submitted by: Rob

I've been wanting to being memorizing Scripture verses, & thought that it would be most helpful if I could bring the verses wherever I go.

I had some old paper from when I attempted to make business cards on my computer, used a template in MS Word & typed up over 80 cards with verses on them that were meaningful to me, might help me in prayer, or give me comfort -- which I'd like to commit to memory. I printed the cards, trimmed them slightly, & today I found a punch for cutting rounded corners so they would fit more easily into... you guessed it! An Altoids tin!! (Needless to say, I can't fit more than approximately 75 cards in one Altoids tin compared to the many more I printed/want to print...)

Anyway... My idea is to make as many of these as I can with the most important verses in them. I'd like to make them for friends & family who are fellow believers, but also make them & keep some in my car or purse to give to non-believers as well to introduce them to some of Scripture & maybe 'plant the seed.'

So SAVE THOSE ALTOIDS TINS, I would love to put them to a most wonderful use!

(& if you happen to have any for me now or later, let me know!) :)

EDIT: I've now received over 50 tins! Great!