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2.3
Sorry about the lack of updates recently - due to my PC giving up the ghost. Normal service will resume shortly.29.2
Lovely 1960s German Balda camera from ebay for just £6.
26.2
Project for the day: Start an Urban MythTotal Recall is on TV right now.
The Brunswick Centre is a big concrete monstrosity next to Russell Square tube station. Despite the fact that it's slap-bang in the centre of town, it has that gritty Thamesmead council flat feel that keeps you on your toes at night and always guarantees you'll either see a fight or bump into a 17 year old chav single mum wheeling along a pushchair and dragging an ugly in-bred daughter called Britney.
Anyway. One day in my first year at Uni I was walking past the centre with a group of friends from my hall of residence. Being a natural born storyteller I pointed at the centre and said "Guess what, not many people know, but parts of Total Recall were filmed in there" (the inside of the centre bears a blurred resemblance to one of the sets in the film). "No way" was one response, "God yeah, I recognise it" was another.
Three years later I was walking past the centre with a group of the new first year intake who had recently moved in to the same hall of residence. One of the group turned around suddenly and said "Look...someone told me Total Recall was filmed in there". People gazed in fascination, and I sniggered to myself and said "Oh, really?"
My brilliant photographer friend Jamie has finally got a lovely looking website. Hip hip hoorah.
I hate to admit that I'm steadily becoming addicted to ebay. I bought three bargain-basement cameras off it last week and my friend Elaine put some fiddly china items up for sale with a reserve of £50 and jumped for joy last night when she found out that the bidding had closed at £689. I just hope it's not some pissed-up old truck driver called Peter in an internet cafe in the West Midlands who brings himself off by listening to Swedish folk music and bidding on china trinket items in the dead of night. It does happen.
21.2
I couldn't believe my ears this morning - The Today Programme had a feature about Chavs. You can listen to it here.17.2
This is the brand new Leica Digilux 2. It's the first Leica digital model that can be operated like a professional analogue camera. I'm in love already. The first shipment arrives in the UK in early March. It looks as if it's going to be popular - I called my friendly regular stockist only to find out that they're having to make appointments for people to 'view' the camera. I've since discovered that if you want to be one of the first people in the world to get your hands on one, the first opportunity will involve a visit to the Leica stand at Focus next week. My ticket is booked and I'm excited beyond belief to have one on order. Forgive me Nikon.You can see some sample shots taken with the D2 here. Cwwoooarr.
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The BBC is making a big play of their new 'Dunkirk' series - BBC2, 9pm; Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It features interviews with a chap calld Eric Cottam who was in middle of the action. Eric happens to be an old friend of my family. He lost both legs due to wounds received in Belgium in May 1940. After many hospital visits he ended up in Leeds Hospital where he was looked after by a nurse called Dot who later became his wife. Having finally abandoned his hope of playing football for England, Eric now works tirelessly raising funds for the British Limbless Ex-Servicemen's Association. He's also written a book recounting his story called 'Long and Short of It', the proceeds of which go to BLESMA. Drop me a line to find out how to get hold of a copy.
15.2
What in God's name is going on here?14.2
Happy Hallmark day.
Mother, please adopt Bertie.
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I'm not going to qualify Graham Norton's show by writing about it. I just hope I'm not the only person to think he's a sneering evil poisonous talentless little twonk.
13.2
I loved the TFT Guide To Beating Obesity: "Fad diets should be replaced
with sensible, long-term weight-loss programmes. So it's time to say goodbye to 'The Eat A Cow A Day Diet'... There should be clearer, more informative labelling of food. New labels to include 'Put this 12-litre bottle of Coca Cola down, you fat fuck' or 'What would you rather have, this bucket of Southern-style fried chicken, or the possibility of one day having sex?'..." Get the whole Friday Thing here.12.2
Last night I met up with Andy who was in town training the IPR in creativity. We inevitably got onto the subject of branding. His theory - Andy, correct me if I'm wrong - is that we should start taking account of what he terms brand 'icons' - ie the first thing that springs to mind when you hear the name of a product / brand. Then how we, as marketing bods, should be fulfilling a 'brand icon strategy' for clients that won't necessarily be too well established. New York: Big Apple; Perkins Butchers: Meat You Can't Beat...? Looking forward to more in Andy's next book.Speaking of books, get yourself It's not how good you are, it's how good you want to be by Paul Arden. It's not, as my operations director asked, a book for people with self-esteem issues. It's actually a nicely-designed book of useful tips for anyone who works in marketing - at any level.
My favourite sections are 'accentuating the positive': 'Find out what's right about your product or service and then dramatize it...providing there is a basic truth in your idea, you can dramatize it to infinity'.
There are useful tips about understanding the client politics that are likely to have influenced a brief - which are often completely unknown by the creatives working on the proposal. This reminds me of a good section in Andy's book about carrying out a kind of personality profiling of your client and tailoring the content and presentation of your response accordingly. I've always found the best way of getting this kind of inside knowledge is to develop an incredible alcohol tolerance and then take your client out for nine pints or so. It's amazing what you learn in a Rupert Street lap dancing club at four in the morning.
Also included: a section on the tendency of marketing (and particularly PR people) to overpromise. This particularly resonated with me. I'm still trying to think of an agency where I've worked that didn't promise the world and end up delivering Wigan. I remember one meeting at Biss Lancaster where an incompetent account director assured an unknown scratchcard company she could get them on the front page of the FT and then left the bewildered account exec the humiliating job of calling a busy journalist with what was obviously a complete non-starter.
Other good sections: 'Do not seek praise, seek criticism', 'Don't be afraid of silly ideas' and 'Getting fired can be a positive career move'.
Looking back on my career, it would have been reassuring reading for me in those bleak moments when I realised I was working for an idiot. It's a good read, nice to look at, and it costs the same as two pints of beer (four if you live in Bolton). Buy it today.
10.2
Having watched 'Skinned' I thought TV couldn't get any worse. Then I came across Cheaters. In a nutshell, anyone who suspects their partner of infidelity gets in touch with the production team who set up hidden cameras, collect evidence, and then devastate the person's life by playing back footage of the cheater having frantic monkey sex with their best friend / roommate / father / mother / all of the above. Presenter commentary as girl sobs watching the footage: "I know this is difficult - not only has your boyfriend cheated on you, you've also been betrayed by your best friend." They've also set up a website called nocheatersdate.com where people who are unhappy with their relationships can go and ... erm ... cheat.-*-
Look at this publicity starved idiot. I wouldn't pay the price of an apple to have sex with that baboon. I get the feeling her virginity is more by accident than design.
9.2
Just when I thought I'd discovered just about all there is to know about bad TV, I came across 'Skinned' - a four week reality TV show featuring six contestants in a US style Big Brother house equipped with stacks of hidden cameras. The game is quite simple - a $100,000 prize goes to the person who can peel off the largest quantity of their own skin over the course of the series. Viewers call to vote on which body parts should be peeled next, and food and treats are awarded for bravery, creative technique and particularly tricky body parts.
It's perfect viewing: excitement, nudity, emotion, a wee bit of gore and a competition element.
The team are given regular on-screen counselling and a medical team is on hand to assist with pain control, minimise blood loss and help prevent infections.
Apparently there's a follow-up fly-on-the-wall series currently in production: 'Skinned - The Aftermath' which will follow the skinless six as they settle back into their everyday lives.
TV just gets better and better.
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7.2
My friend Ben has done this great design for my van - Cheers Ben - it's a head-turner all right.6.2
Thank you for your PR bloomers. Such as the lady who accidentally stapled her payslip to the back of a press release and posted it to a Scottish newspaper. The journalist posted the slip back to her with a note saying 'you're not being paid nearly enough'.Then there is John, who, taken by surprise when a client from a major bank dropped in unexpectedly, said "...and to think I nearly came in my jeans".
PR professionalism at its best: A journalist on technology magazine Revolution said he received a press release about the launch of a new toilet roll. Not only that, but the hapless account exec actually called him up to sell-in the story.
Meanwhile, a lady who worked in publishing was asking a client if he had a guillotine to cut up proofs to make a dummy of the magazine they were working on. The conversation apparently went "So have you got a big chopper?" followed by "how big is it exactly?"
4.2
I was talking to someone last night about those awful foot-in-mouth-wish-the-ground-would-open-up-and-swallow-you-whole moments that seem to happen almost daily in the world of PR.I'd be the first to confess to some big, bouncy blunders.
There was the time as a junior account exec I had to sell the idea of linking my client, a major global soft drinks brand with a promotion associated with World Aids Day: "It's perfect..." I enthused to the client, "...and the great thing is they're dying to be involved". Oops.
Then there was the PR consumer agency job interview. When asked why I'd said on my CV that I was keen on working on youth brands I said, taking pride in my honesty, that I would "....probably slash my wrists if I had to do PR for something like Pedigree Chum." My potential future MD looked at me quizzically and said "Actually, the Pedigree team really enjoy their work". "Oh" was I all could muster. I turned the colour of the carpet, the meeting was cut short and bizarrely, I wasn't called back for second interview.
Finally, one afternoon at H&K I received an email from a senior Kellogg's marketing bod requesting a catch-up meeting. I forwarded it to my colleague to find out when she could do the meeting - asking cheerily: "when's good for you chucky egg?" I got an email from Mr. Kellogg within minutes saying sternly "I can only do Monday afternoon or Wednesday morning next week and what's a Chucky Egg?" Strangely we bonded following this incident.
I can't leave this subject without mentioning an old colleague of mine at a big global agency that boasted a particularly strong technology offer. At a major company function she was obviously venting her frustrations to her friend in the next door toilet cubicle: "These dotcoms are all a load of crap. Shite business models run by overpaid arrogant twats" she growled drunkenly. That is until from the cubicle on the other side, the managing director of a major (and very successful) dotcom coughed angrily, flushed aggressively and left to get her sacked. Oh the giggles we have in the workplace - they alone make going to work worthwhile.
I'd like to publish more of the same. Call it Web-Schadenfreude. Don't delay, send yours today.
2.2
Hoorah for weekends: very enjoyable Friday night in Blacks with my friend Andrew and a smashing Sunday in Surbiton with Elaine and Graham who probably thought I was loopy when I insisted on borrowing Elaine's camera to get a picture of Graham's work shed. What a cosy little refuge. I want one.
I am addicted to crap telly. Extreme Makeovers: as the name implies it's slightly more hardcore than a fancy hairdo and new frock from Miss Selfridge provided by Fern and that twat with silver hair.
The programme makers picked two American people who were unhappy with their looks: A man with droopy eyelids and a chin to match and a woman who was apparently referred to as either 'Dumbo' or 'Pinocchio' through school. Cheesy American voiceover: "...to add insult to injury, her sister was both pretty and popular..."
They then removed them both from home for six weeks, during which time they underwent radical cosmetic surgery, had a going over by a camp personal trainer and were bought a new set of clothes.
At the end of the show they gather together all friends and family of both victims and stage a show where they roll out the finished products who, now with lives worth living, soak up the enthusiastic applause with their newly pinned-back ears. That and the young son of the surgically-enhanced lady suffering a complete emotional breakdown with the realisation that this completely unrecognisable stranger is actually his mother. He'll get over it. The important thing is mom doesn't have a big hooter anymore.
The makers of the programme did, as my friend Sam would say, get to the bottom of the barrel and then start drilling. But it is compulsive viewing. Plus it filled an hour before the rigorous intellectual exercise that goes by the name of 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy'.
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I see Michael's not the only Jackson to make a tit of himself.
