'I’m trying to do a deal with the guys at Piebury Corner.’Former boss, mentor and mate, Mark Denton continues ‘If they supply pies for my book launch I'll supply ads for free. Can you do me some free ads?’Mark has lined up a photographer to shoot them for free 'So we just need a few idea, hopefully with nice pie shots in.’Piebury Corner?That's right up there with Exmouth Market hairdressers Barber Streisand.Puns make me wince.Anyway, nice pie shots?I think of a nice pie shot.

That's what Ron Brown & Martyn Thompson did with pies, one of the best art director/photographer combos of the last century, nice, but not amazing.But then again, how else are you going to shoot a pie?I ignore that question and start thinking about another one - What the hell can we say about our pies?I guess they feel a bit olde-worlde, a traditional British alternative to the invasion of new-fangled foreign foods? Pies like the old days? Old-fangled pies?

The more I thought about it the more I felt like I had to address the elephant in the room; the pun.It's a distinctive name, very London, maybe we address the name?

If we're going to talk about the pun, instead of apologising for it, perhaps we should embrace it?Focus on getting people to remember our name rather than justifying our pie ingredients.The only problem; I hate puns, they make me wince. (I've just written an article for Shots about why puns are such a low-rent advertising solution.)But then again, they're called Piebury Corner.Sod it, I'll write some puns.

Maybe a list of London locations turned into puns?More like a poster you'd buy than an ad?Hang on, what about the photographer? He needs specimens for his site.Let's have small pictures of the pun element next to the words. E.g. A picture of a pie next to ‘bury Corner’, a picture of a brussel sprout next to ‘Square’, etc.

It could be engaging, well branded, very Londony.Ok, the vomit draft.Lets bash one of these things together, it's gonna look great, I just know it!

Terrible.Is it the black?Is it the font?Is it the puns?Maybe we need a more neutral font?Maybe a simple white background?

The white is better, easier to get at the elements.But the font, Helvetica Light, makes it looks a bit too precious.Maybe a bolder Helvetica would make it look more functional, less like it's trying to look cool?

Better, but it still doesn't look like it's a quality item.These pies are dear, high-end pies, perhaps it should look classier.Dare we go serifs?

Century Schoolbook is a nice font, one of my favourites, (and Paul Arden and Massimo Vignelli's), but maybe we need something more characterful, more distinctive?As pies aren't some new-fangled invention, maybe we make the posters feel traditional.Also, we'll be positioning ourselves against all those johnny-come-lately's to the British diet, suishi, burritos, falafel and the like, so let's look traditional and authentic.

It's ok.But I think the little images are causing the problem, they look crap.Sod the photographer, let's bite the bullet and embrace puns.Maybe an all type poster could look cool, like the kind of London posters you buy, not like an ad.

Looks way better.The words are a bit small though, let's make them bigger.The longer place names are sacrificed to give us an increased the font size?

Don't like the line at the end, It feels like a punchline.Which makes the whole thing feel very contrived.I think we should trust people to get the link between Piebury Corner and the other puns.Let's weave it into the text at the bottom.Also, 'Shocking puns'? What's our brand personality; Wallace & Gromit?I Keep thinking of more names, it's addictive, I now have enough for three executions.

They're starting to look good. But are they a little too cool for school? It's a chain of pie shops after all.Maybe Helvetica is just too clean and clinical for pies?Hang on...Johnston!Surely we should use the London Underground font?It's a London based chain of pie shops featuring London destinations; Johnston!

Much better.But maybe we should use a heavier weight?It would mean a more colourful poster, (thicker lines hold more colour).

The colours are a bit of a mess, too random, not easy on the eye.Maybe we group the colours to tidy it up a bit?The 'Pie' in 'Piebury Corner' should be a consistent colour every time. The colour of pie.

I notice that the greens were all a bit similar.It's because I've guessed them, mixed them from four colours.Colour looks different when placed next to another colour, so when you make up a colour you are too influenced by what's next to it, which is generally good, but not if you want it to accurately reflect a colour.To do it objectively, I decide to find pictures of the objects mentioned, then sample the colours.Some were very similar to my guesses, some were miles out, (check out the pickle and Bramley for example).Also, it's nice to know the colours are accurate.

I can't think of anything else to change, they must be finished.

Pictures are great.As everyone knows, they’re worth a 1000 words, but they offer so much more; emotion, drama, humour, shock, surprise, information, style, etc, etc.So what do you do if you can't use one?If you’re an art director it’s especially tough, because your job is to make people engage against their will.So the temptation is to overcompensate with graphics.But it's a risk, as Bill Bernbach warned ‘Merely to let your imagination run riot, to dream unrelated dreams, to indulge in graphic and verbal gymnastics is NOT being creative.’The very process of pushing words around, changing fonts, colours and sizes can distract you from what you set out to do; deliver a message.It’s surprising how quickly people in our business move on from the message.Particularly on awards juries.Sit on an awards jury and the chances are you'll hear someone championing an cool looking campaign with language like ‘this is what our industry should be doing, leading not following culture, ripping up the rule book’.If you ask them what their favourite line or idea was, you often get responses like ‘Err…the blue one’, ‘The one where the words go up the side’ or ‘The one with the coloured squares’.Basically, they can't recall any of the messages in the ads.To be fair, awards juries are looking for fresh, new and unusual, so the feel becomes disproportionately more important than message.But, if you're in the business of communicating, it's worth checking in every so often to make sure you're communicating what you set out to communicate.When limited to graphics only, I often lapse into this process:STEP 1: Try to convey message simply and appropriately.STEP 2: Get distracted by trying to do something cool.
STEP 3: Get back to trying to convey message simply and appropriately.It made me want to post a couple of examples.Part one is a bit weird.A few years ago, a guy from India got in touch saying he liked my work and would I create a poster for his company.He wanted me to use the text from Apple’s ‘Here’s to the Crazy Ones’.I love that ad.Whilst mulling over whether to do it or not, I ended up doing it.I couldn’t resist.THE VOMIT DRAFT.That's what screen writers call it, just put it down, don't over worry about it, get something down so that you have something to judge.Let's use Baskerville, that's a nice, readable font.

Looks dull, maybe we can increase the size of the words?We'll have to break some of the longer lines.

Looks like some old poem.Maybe it should be reversed out of black?

Maybe that font is too old-fashioned?It is Apple after all.Maybe we use Avant Garde; not new, but cool.

A bit bland, and kind of retro, too 70's.What's a bit more distinctive?Pensyvannia? (Dave Wakefield used that, so it must be good.)

Better, but a bit hard to read.Maybe we should break to help people take in the sections?

That's better, much easier to take in the thoughts.Looks a bit doomy though, yet the text is vey positive an upbeat.Maybe we replace the black with grey...it's probably more Apple?

Better. But a bit nothingy...a bit bland looking.Maybe we pull in a texture, something related to Apple?

Shouldn't we use the Apple font? It is for Apple?What's the Apple font? Mythiad? Ok.

I like it, but maybe it feels a bit too Apple? A bit like an Apple ad. That therefore makes the text look like ad copy. I love the words, they're more than 'ad copy'.Maybe we keep the text as it is and break up the sections with bars?

Too blocky.It's the first thing I think when I look at it.Maybe it would look cooler to highlight the words in blocks like a Word document?

I like the fact that it looks a little odd, off-centre and random.Maybe we should we break up the blocks with colour?

Does it now look a bit too fiddly?Too complicated?Maybe we should go back to simpler blocks?

Mmm...colours are a bit...colourful.Looks like a tube map.Maybe we use more sophisticated colours, less brash and cheap?

Maybe each line should have it's own colour?We could group sections in a similar tone when they run on.And maybe we try to emphasise the ideas within each line with some typograhical device?

Looks cool.Hang on...would the takeaway be 'that cool-looking colourful stripey poster'.Probably.It's not really doing Craig Tanimoto's words justice.Maybe we make the words the hero and relegate the graphics?Use an ocassional typographic idea, just not like a punchline every few seconds.

Better.Maybe it still messes with the reading too much?Dare I say we use black type?Maybe grey type is a little addy, a bit contrived?

Perfect.What? You like the colourful stripey one?Did you read the words?

The Advertising Standards Council wouldn't let that title pass.I guess it was my intent when I cello-taped it to the cover.There are a few old New Yorker ads in there, but the majority are English, from the early seventies.It’s odd collection, looking at it now is a bit like wandering through a car boot sale.

There’s the finds that have famous attached, so may be worth something: 1. Illustrator/Artist Glen Baxter’s Gilbey’s Gin ads.2. Photographer Art Kane’s ‘Sip it with respect’ Martell ad, (written by Tony Brignull). 3. An original by Art Director Helmut Krone, (Avis).4. Actual, original text written by Howard Gossage, (Irish Whiskey Board).5. Richard Avedon’s ‘Julie Andrews’ Blackglama ad. There’s the stuff you like, but aren’t sure anyone else would:1. A cool ribbony ad for Chanel.2. An interesting looking tourist ad from the Netherlands National Tourist office.3. An ad I remember loving as a kid, it just seemed so clever! (After Eights ‘Eaton Square’).4. A couple of nice pack-shots for B&H Menthol.5. A great shot of a Rover driving over a bridge.Then there’s the stuff that may have historical value, but but you wouldn’t pay for:1. Evidence of The Jolly Green Giant smoking.2. A long-forgotten Tony Brignull campaign for Renault.3. An article about Angus McBean’s Bed.4. David Ogilvy’s ‘Commander’ character in old Schweppes ad.5. An ad for Halston’s perfume, (Studio 54’s ultimate lounge lizzard).Have a browse.

One of my favourite tweeters.Always insightful, but more than that, Richard always seems so excited to share each idea or thought.He writes his tweets like they're Breaking News.Richard, like all of my favourite tweeters nowadays share the same job title; Behavioural Insight Bod.(Or some version of.)Traditionally, planners looked at behaviour, but not in the same way, not with such insight and usefulness.Which is weird.Why, when your whole business is built around communicating with human beings would you not have a whole department set up to understand human beings?Well now they are out on the net, sharing observations on how humans work for free, just check out Richard at https://twitter.com/rshotton Hang on! Hang on! Not now.Listen to this first.It’s different from my usual, chronologically structured podcasts, this one's all over the map.You can hear in real time as Richard and I try to get our heads around what's happening with humans and ad agencies today.The result is that there are:a) Far more thoughtful pauses than usual.b) The number of 'Mmmms' is off the charts.c) Julius Caeser features more than Bill Bernbach.d) If you're in the creative department, I'm afraid there's a whole bunch of difficult to pronounce European philosopher's names you'll need to google.But on a lighter note, listen out for Richard crunching his way through a Bourbon biscuit about halfway through.Enjoy.

The book.

The link:https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/085719609X/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i0Some tweets.

FINALLY, A POST ABOUT AN AD THAT'S CAN BE SEEN TV TODAY.CHAPTER 2 OF MIKE EVERETT'S BOOK ON ADVERTISING.

The famous Hovis ‘Bike Ride’ commercial was relatively easy to write.But, boy, did it take perseverance to find somewhere to film it.

In order to understand why the famous Hovis campaign was created it is necessary to return to the dark days of the early seventies.This was a time when Britain was in a mess.Its slow post-war decline had yet to be halted.Strikes and unemployment haunted the political landscape.And then, in 1974, the Prime Minister, Edward Heath, introduced the three-day week in a desperate attempt to prevent striking coal miners from holding the country to ransom.

Like all businesses, CDP was affected by the three day week. In essence, this was an emergency measure introduced by the government designed to ration electricity. It demanded that all British companies turn off their lights for two working days each week. With impeccable timing, this measure was enacted just as winter approached. So, for at least a couple of days a week, the CDP creative department would pack up working when it got dark, just after four, and all go home.However, very soon we discovered that the light boxes used to view transparencies – illuminated devices rather like the ones doctors use to use to study X-rays – were classed as industrial equipment and were therefore exempt from the measure.This extended the working day as we stuck any old transparency on the light box and used the ambient illumination it provided in place of the office lights.

The three-day week also led to at least one good joke.In those days, the managing director, Frank Lowe roamed the corridors and offices of CDP wearing a cricketing jumper and carrying a cricket bat.On one of the dark evenings, when CDP’s lights were turned off, a young account man encountered Frank on the stairs.Frank looked very serious and thoughtful. ‘What’s the matter, Frank’, asked the account man, ‘bad light stop play?’The young account man left the agency shortly afterwards.

As you can imagine, in those gloomy times neither present nor future were held in much optimism by the British public. So when the agency was briefed to write a series of commercials for Hovis, it was decided to go back in time and exploit the past.After all, Hovis had been around since anybody could remember. And surely a good dose of nostalgia was just what the people of Britain needed to cheer them up.

Geoff Seymour got the job.He wrote two commercials that exploited nostalgia in spades. One showed an Edwardian family on the beach at a seaside picnic, the other, a mother and son returning from a shopping trip in a Northern town, also set in the same period.Geoff had written the voiceovers as elderly men fondly recalling the days of their youth.The films were beautifully shot by Peter Webb, but Geoff wanted music to hold the films together – music that would evoke the period and the location of the films.

Alan Marshall, Alan Parker’s producer, had seen a TV programme filmed by the accomplished documentary maker Frank Citanovich. Its subject was the footballing brothers, Jack and Bobby Charlton. The film used brass band music as its soundtrack.Marshall suggested the idea of brass band music to John Salmon, CDP’s Creative director, who had written a commercial with Arthur Parsons for a new Bird’s Eye pie. But the pie was never launched and the commercial was shelved.It fell to John Salmon to suggest to Geoff Seymour that this music might be suitable for Hovis.

In the end, Geoff recorded two tracks. On the ‘Seaside’ commercial he used a brass band arrangement of ‘I do like to be beside the seaside’, slowed down to fit with the commercials languid pace. But, on the other commercial, which was called ‘Northern’, he chose to record the adagio from Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’. This was a staple of the many brass bands that exist to this day in northern England.

The commercials were well received and earned their fair share of praise and awards. They certainly exploited nostalgia and, if nothing else, served to remind the British public of the existence of Hovis. But, apart from nostalgia, the films gave no real reason to consider buying Hovis in place of a regular loaf. This is what led to a brief being issued for a new series of commercials in the early part of 1973.

This new brief made much of the product characteristics of Hovis. But there was one of these characteristics that stood head and shoulders above the others. Because it was brown bread, and therefore less refined than white, Hovis contained more wheat germ than other breads. Wheat germ was synonymous with goodness, so it was also ‘good for you’. At least, this appeared to be the case to David Brown and Ronnie Turner, the creative team charged with writing the new campaign.

It’s a terrible phrase, but doing a job like this – where more has to be made of a product’s characteristics – is described as making it more ‘product-focused’. But just talking about the wheat germ in Hovis didn’t seem enough to David and Ronnie. They felt that in some way they needed to show the bread being good for you. Lesser agencies would resort to what are known as ‘product demonstrations’ at this point – but not CDP.David and Ronnie decided the best way to accentuate the goodness of the product was to set the commercials in a bakery, as opposed to the seaside or a northern street. They would retain the nostalgia of the Edwardian period, but write commercials more directly related to the baking of bread.

With this thinking in place, David Brown remembers the two commercials that he and Ronnie conceived being relatively easy to write. Geoff Seymour had, after all, laid superb groundwork for the campaign. And it’s a damn sight easier to follow in somebody else’s footsteps, and write follow up commercials, than it is to start a campaign from scratch. Even so, the scripts that Ronnie and David wrote had merits of their own, not least by placing more emphasis on the product without it being obvious.

The first idea they came up with featured a young lad whose dad was a baker. The young boy and his family lived above the bakery and the young lad would be woken up every morning by the smell of freshly baked Hovis. ‘It were better than any alarm clock’, as the voice over said. Not only was this script evocative, but also it was totally centered on the product and its story of goodness. David Brown loved it, and so did everyone who saw it.

The brief, however, asked for two scripts, so David and Ronnie looked around for another way to feature a bakery, without repeating themselves. Instead of the baker’s son, why not use the baker’s delivery boy? They could show him out on his rounds and then, at the end of the commercial, bring him back to the bakery to enjoy ‘doorsteps of hot Hovis’ and a cup of tea. All well and good, but they also wished to demonstrate the health enhancing benefits of Hovis, particularly as they applied to growing kids. So they chose to show the young baker’s boy pushing his delivery bike up a steep hill, and then freewheeling back down. Hence the famous opening line ‘Last stop on round were old Ma Pegarty’s place…it were like taking bread to the top of the world’.

As well as locating the two commercials in and around bakeries, David and Ronnie beefed up the end voice over: ‘Hovis has many times more wheat germ than ordinary bread…it’s as good for you today as it’s always been’. This line is still as good as it’s always been: it continues to be used today by Hovis in a slightly modified form.

Unlike Geoff before them, David and Ronnie chose a different director to shoot the commercials, Ridley Scott. The ‘Alarm Clock’ film was shot at Isleworth Studios in London. But obviously, ‘Bike Ride’ needed an exterior location for the lion’s share of the film.

Remarkably, these two Hovis commercials were the first commercials that David and Ronnie had ever made. David had previously been at Doyle Dane Bernbach, which was justly famous for its print advertising. But the London office of DDB wasn’t exactly renowned for its film output. In fact, the agency made very few commercials. So David and Ronnie were film virgins when it came to finding a location for the ‘Bike Ride’ film.

They couldn’t believe what was happening to them. There they were, being chauffeur driven round the north of England on an all-expenses paid jaunt, looking for the perfect hill. The pair held the brief for this hill very clearly in their minds. They were searching for a 1 in 4 incline, that faced South (for lighting reasons) had a cobbled surface, authentic, old cottages, and a view from the top that was free of all twentieth-century clutter. Ideally, their chosen hill should also lead to nowhere in particular, to allow the local council to close it for a couple of days without anybody objecting too much.

But could they find that hill? They spent three weeks visiting the northern counties of England. They drifted through Derbyshire, looked all over Lancashire, yomped round Yorkshire and went as far North as Northumberland. As David Brown has said, ‘after three weeks all we’d come back with was a taste for Tetley’s Bitter and Harry Ramsden’s famous fish and chips’.

It was the film company art director, Michael Seymour, who found a way round the problem. He figured out that if a hill like this existed, somebody somewhere would have photographed it. And very likely, this photograph would appear in a book. So he confined his reconnaissance trips to his local public library. And, sure enough, in an obscure book on landscapes, he discovered an old black and white picture of Gold Hill in Shaftesbury, a small Dorset town. ‘I think you’ve been looking in the wrong place, he said to David and Ronnie, ‘you need to go south, not north’.

Once again, the pair set out on their travels, heading down to Dorset. The hill turned out to be exactly what they’d been looking for. But they felt slightly uneasy about the fact that they were re-locating the film from what was fast becoming the heartland of the Hovis campaign, the North of England, to the shires of the South. It was, however, the perfect hill so they stuck with it.

What was interesting about Gold Hill was the fact that few people outside Shaftesbury knew of its existence. David and Ronnie confidently expected coach loads of American tourists to be swanning about when they went to reconnoitre it. But no, apart from a few locals, the place was deserted.

The shoot took place over two days, two days when the weather was perfect. Ridley Scott could, in the words of David Brown ‘be heard having multiple orgasms’ as he peered through the camera and marvelled at the light. Ridley shot take after take. The poor boy pushing the bike up the hill had to repeat the action twenty times before the great man was satisfied that he’d got what he wanted in the can.

Back in London, with the commercial now in the form of what’s known as a ‘rough cut’, David Brown turned his attention to the soundtrack. He felt that using the same music as Geoff Seymour – a brass band version of the adagio from the New World Symphony – was too mournful for the film and would leave viewers feeling miserable. So he commissioned Joe Campbell, a prolific producer of music for commercials, to come up with something more upbeat.But when David showed the result to Frank Lowe, Frank was adamant that David had made a grave mistake, and should persevere with the Dvorak music. Frank’s point of view was that the New World adagio would, in time, become inextricably linked to Hovis in the same way that Bach’s ‘Air on a G String’ was synonymous with Hamlet. Frank was, of course, right and David bowed to his judgment.

What continued to bug David – and still does, over 40 years later – is his choice of voice over. Because the film was shot in Dorset, David and Ronnie succumbed to the idea of using an actor with a West Country accent, rather than Yorkshire or Lancashire. Even today, David Brown says that every time he sees the ‘Bike Ride’ commercial, he wants to rush into the studio and re-record the voice over.

Gold Hill, of course, has now become famous as the location for the ‘Bike Ride’ commercial and attracts many more tourists than it did when David and Ronnie discovered it. A gold loaf has even been erected to tell visitors that they are standing at the spot where bread was taken to the top of the world.

Many years later, David Brown was amused by an article he saw in a national newspaper headed ‘The Harlot of Hovis Hill’. This was the story of an enterprising lady who was running a brothel on Gold Hill in order to pay for her daughter’s private schooling. The article was illustrated with two pictures, one of the woman, and one of the young Hovis delivery boy, Carl Barlow, who went on to become a fire fighter in London.But what interested David most was the description ‘Hovis Hill’. He suddenly felt that his long career in advertising hadn’t been in vain. At least he’d bequeathed something to posterity. Most of us would probably agree that he’s left behind more of a legacy than the vast majority of advertising writers could ever hope to.

Other ads in the campaign.

The haircuts have dated.The clothing looks dated.The puns feel very dated.The page layouts look dated.The screen treatment of the photographs look dated.But a lot of the thinking, not so much.As Bill Bernbach said “It took millions of years for man’s instincts to develop.It will take millions more for them to even vary. It is fashionable to talk about changing man. A communicator must be concerned with unchanging man, with his obsessive drive to survive, to be admired, to succeed, to love, to take care of his own.”Ron Anderson's views on creative education, below,are probably the best explanation as to why I've posted these yellowing pages from the last century.ON CREATIVE EDUCATION:“I’ve never worked for Bernbach, Ogilvy, Ally. But I’ve learned from reading their speeches.I’ve never worked with Bob Gage, Helmut Krone, Bill Taubin.But I’ve learned by studying their work.The way I see it, I’ve learned from the best people in the business.”- Ron Anderson.ON THE PERSONAL CREATIVE IMPERATIVE:“In a sense, you’re self-employed; you work for yourself, work to meet your standards.Others praise doesn’t count if you don’t meet your own standards.You may kid the world but you can’t kid yourself.” – David Abbott.ON MAKING GREAT ADS:“The real trick is figuring out what the substance of an ad should be, and then in handling that substance in the best way possible.” – Carl Ally.ON CREATIVE DISCIPLINE:“When we present the advertising there’s no surprise in terms of direction and strategy.Those have already been agreed on.What’s new is the execution; the style, the personality, the feel of the advertising.” – Ralph Ammirati.ON THE OGILVY SECRET:“I was an agency with a different style; the unselfconscious, totally straight, factually based approach. Invaluable training. To this day, when I’m stuck, I’ll do a David Ogilvy advertisement; a what/where/when/how/why kind of ad. Once that’s done I know what to say. Then I tell myself, ‘Now you have to beat it’.”- Tony Brignull.ON GOOD WRITERS:“Good writers come in all shapes and sizes. What they seem to have in common is an ability to hear, to listen, to understand – and to distil what they hear and learn into something that’s human and persuasive”– Jay Chiat.ON THE CREATIVE OBJECTIVE:“We don’t just deal in executional technique. There must be something of substance beneath it. As Steve Dunn, my art director puts it, we seek to provide the cake, not just the icing.”– Tim Delaney.ON BELIEVING:“Advertising is an act of faith. You think everything out, you write and rewrite, you research and re-search. But at some point, you have to swallow hard and run the stuff.”– Jeff Goodby.ON HIRING TALENT:“We wanted people who could do the kind of work no one was doing. We had to look for potential. I found it tucked away in the back of portfolios, ads that never sold, ideas that had been killed.I also found it by poring through hundreds of ugly little ads, looking for that spark, the willingness to take a great leap.”- Phyliss Robinson.ON SELLING IDEAS:“Selling is an act of passion. When you’re passionate about an idea, it shows – and it’s easy to sell it.I find it impossible to be cool and reserved – I won’t present an ad or campaign unless I really believe in it. And when I believe, I can be pretty persuasive.” – Tom McElligott.ON MAKING IDEAS WORK:“You need to know about the tools. Type, photography, illustration, are tools. You need to know how they work, to know nearly as much as the people who specialize. For if you can’t use the tools, you can’t really make a good idea work”– Helmut Krone.

It seems WSJ tried to get Creative Leaders off the ground in the nineties, I found these...(If anyone has any that I've missed, please email them, I'll add them.)

Played at 78rpm, one side of a 12’’ shellac disc could play up to five minutes of music. In 1948, Columbia Records came up with an alternative; a PVC disc with finer grooves that, played at 33rpm, could play up to 22 minutes a side.It not only changed the way we listen to music, it change the music we listened to.First, these 'Long Players' were seen as ideal for theatre musicals and film soundtracks.Consequently, one group dominated the album charts in the fifties; Original Broadway Cast.Their album 'My Fair Lady' was not only the best selling album of 1957, but '58 too.Even in the sixties, the decade 'belonging to The Beatles and Stones, they released the biggest selling albums in three separate years, a feat matched by their big rivals; Original Soundtrack.But by 1970, the biggest selling albums were altogether more personal, an artists thoughts and personality committed to vinyl.Album sales were exploding; Simon & Garfunkel's 'Bridge over Troubled Water' and Carole King's 'Tapestry' each selling over 40 million copies.Record companies had never seen so much cash.Hit singles were still fine, but artists who could put out album after album, year after year, that's where the real money was.To put it another way, instead of creating short-term tactical ads, they started building long-term brand campaigns.Artists, like products, were distilled down to their essence, that essence was turned into imagery and graphics.No more shape-shifting to follow the latest fad, instead, a consistent visual personality.Helpful when you're selling albums, because you want to remind people that they'd enjoyed spending time with these people before. Plus, in a crowded market, (or 'record stores' as they are known in the business), being recognised from the other side of the room is useful.Record companies began putting out long-term campaigns that used all the tricks and learnings of ad agencies.1. 'WE NEED TO GET OUR PRODUCT NAME OUT THERE'.Basic, but crucial for any artist.Or product. (It used to be popular with P&G, particularly with soap powders.)If your campaign is built around the your brand name there's less chance of your product being mistaken for someone else's.Plus, it needn't be dumb, it's possible to make it sophisticated and enjoyable, like this campaign for by designer John Berg.

2. 'LET'S JUST SHOW THE PRODUCT...HUGE.'Another popular route, but few use such big a product shots as Phil Collins.No locations, environments, torsos, spectacles or facial hair, nothing in the photo that's non-PhilSimple, small text and a huge product.A bit like the Apple approach outdoor.Doesn't seem to have done them any harm?

3. 'WE NEED AN ICON.'When your band looks like the teachers band at the end of term disco, create an icon.Not only will it unify everything, it'll never lose its hair or get wrinkles.It's also useful for companies without a tangible visual product, like insurance, hence Direct Line's use of the red phone icon.

4. 'LET'S USE BEAUTIFUL MODELS.'Not a fantastically original idea, but like all ideas, it depends on how you do it.When Roxy Music started they looked similar to the rest of the groups wearing spandex and glitter, so they, or should I say Bryan, decided to put their dreams and aspirations on their covers.Updating the models each year to whoever was the new flavour of the month.Not unusual in the wider world, more unusual in record store racks.Burberry, Prada, Tom Ford, virtually every fashion campaign out there does the same thing.

5. 'WE NEED SOME DISTINCTIVE GRAPHICS.'Graphic treatments can be a great way of being recognised.Take The Smiths, same ingredients every time; An old black and white photograph, (ideally from the 1950s). Turned into a duotone.(Be sure to use two of the most downbeat, muddy colours known to man.)Make the picture as big as possible.Put your name* on it.*Be careful not to make it too bright a colour, it'll stand out.I used a similar technique on an Adidas campaign, I was trying to capture an that insular running vibe.

6. 'WHAT'S OUR OWN-ABLE PHOTOGRAPHY STYLE?'Sometimes the record label is as important as the artist, it becomes like an endorsement to the artist.In this case, Tappan Zee needed a style that would be seen as theirs but also accommodate a wide variety of artists, titles and subjects.This problem was solved simply; extreme close ups.It doesn't sound like a 'big idea', but it was surprisingly effective.Again, how you do it is everything.Or, who does it is as important as what they do, these were done by the great Paula Scher, so not surprisingly, they're excellent.In advertising terms, this is Sainsbury's, John Lewis and virtually every supermarket going.A style that allowing them to promote a huge variety of disparate brands but under one, recognisable roof.

7. 'WE NEED TO CAPTURE OUR VIBE.'There's a cliched old advertising phrase that says 'don't sell your lawn seeds, sell their lawn'.Yes, you are buying an artists music, but often, you are buying a mood.ECM sold a mood.A new agey/jazz/ambient type mood.The ECM logo becomes a bit like the Intel Inside logo; offering reassurance that it'll deliver what's expected.What's expected is visualised using storms, rain, blurs, shadows mixed in with a dollop of melancholy.Davidoff, Chanel and all manner of perfume brands do a similar thing; not being able to let you smell their perfumes they give you weird, abstract mood pieces to give you a vibe.

8. 'WE HAVEN'T GOT MUICH CASH...CAN'T WE DO SOMETHING WITH TYPE?'If you're putting out hundreds of albums a year commissioning photography is a big expense.But albums with just a name and title printed on them look cheap, hardly an endorsement from the label.Blue Note, and Reid Miles in particular, turned this on its head.Simply using an alphabet, some coloured inks and an exceptional eye, he created album covers that not only jumped out and felt like a family.Ironically, their aesthetic made them feel more special than their expensive cousins.A bit like The Economist campaign, it beat up all those expensively produced ads with nothing more than red ink, white words and a bit of grey matter.

9. 'WE NEED TO GET OCER OUR AESTHETICS.'It's always right to do the opposite of your surroundings.So, if you're surrounded by crass, complicated imagery, sophisticated, minimal aesthetics will really jump out.The stripped back, considered graphics that Mark Farrow has created year after year for the Pet Shop Boys, not only hold together visually, they say scream intelligence and style.Weirdly perhaps, this puts me in mind of the Lurpak, frankly, a a chunk of yellow fat, but the aesthetics of their advertising; the cinematography, sound design and metronomic editing is so pleasing, you can't help but liking and admiring that particular chunk of yellow fat.

10. 'WHY NOT USE SEX....PEOPLE LIKE SEX.'The oldest strategy in the book.But one that's always difficult to ignore.The Ohio Players used it and their logo throughout the seventies, I'd put money on the fact that more people knew the Ohio Players for their covers than their music.BBH used a similar strategy to great effect with their Haagen Dasz campaign back in the day.

Visual consistency helped place artists in the heads and hearts of millions of people.Selling millions of albums along the way.The instant measurability digitisation has bought us has lead to our industry to focus on the short-term.Consistency has been replaced with flip-flopping, done under the illusion that we’re being ‘nimble’ or ‘reactive’.But the people we're talking to don’t care.They either recognise a company or they don’t.They won't recognise a new personality over night, it takes time for them to connect our dots.It’s an investment.One that will be rewarded when a brand can be picked out from the crowd.As an industry, we need to stop flooding the market with singles, hoping to luck out with the next ‘Gangnam Style’, we need to be plotting out the careers of the next The Pet Shop Boys, Roxy Music or, dare I say it; Phil Collins.

One of the nice things about doing these interviews is getting to know people who you’ve only previously knew though their work.So, when I write one of these intros I try to reflect on what I've learnt about the interviewee, to capture the characteristics that have helped them create such great work and succeed in such a competitive business.But as different as they all are, they all share the same characteristic; They care.When they commit, they’re all in.Whether making an ad or a cup of tea they want it to be as good as possible. They keep pushing when others decide ‘that’ll do’.A few years back, a friend of mine wandered into Adrian’s office to leave a message, he found that the desk was filled with random sets of letters and numbers. Some were ticked, some crossed and one had a question mark. He stood there looking at them trying to figure out what fiendish creativity was going on.Until, a few weeks later, when he bumped into Adrian, who’d just taken delivery of his new BMW, it turned out that Adrian had been trying to pick the most visually pleasing arrangement of letters and numbers before committing to a number plate.Then there was the time that Adrian, irritated at having to fold his copy of Campaign to fit into his briefcase, found someone to make him a new, bespoke briefcase, unfolded Campaign size.Also, you’ll notice something different when you look through Adrian’s work, along with the names of the agencies and clients, you’ll also see the year it ran, the art director, director, illustrator, photographer and typographer. You’ll see subheads.You won’t hear the sound of my phone beeping or Adrian not being able to recall a Creative Directors name. (It was edited, re-recorded and fixed.)And at the end of this post you'll see an article titled 'My Portfolio', look closely at the first line and you'll notice that the word firing' is fractionally bolder than the rest, that's because underneath is the word 'giving', Campaign had misquoted him, Adrian and his scalpel fixed it.I'm not sure you can learn to care passionately about the details, but if you do, your work be better for it.We had a great chat, hope you enjoy it.

Written in 1944 by my mother, a gifted amateur poet. Her first child (my half sister) was born around the same time her husband was killed in North Africa.Father and daughter never met, except in this amazingly touching short poem.

My first award-winning work was actually a photo, taken on holiday in 1969 when I was 16.The newspaper article sadly notes ‘photography is Adrian’s only hobby...

Written in my Central London Poly days for the student magazine ‘McGarel’ around 1974, spoofing one of those Sunday Times magazine direct mail ads.The chair was well known and much derided fixture in the student common room.Letraset and layout by Adrian Holmes - yes, I know, if only I had become an art director ...Interview lists...

The rejections...

Finally...

GREY.ARRID EXTRA DRY. (1976. Art director Richard Tennant.) The first time someone said ‘that’s nice’ about one of my headlines - thanks, Dolly Beashel!

LEO BURNETT.COI, 1978. (Art director Steve Hopper, director Bob Bierman.)Weren’t we lucky to get Roy Kinnear?

COLMANS.Oxfam. (1980. Art director David Owen.)

Winners Matches. (1981. Art director David Owen.) Never made. (Can you imagine commissioning a TV commercial for a box of matches today?)

Citroen. (1980. Art director David Owen.)

(1980. Art director David Owen, director Mike Seresin.)My first bit of work in the D&AD annual.

(1980. Art director David Owen, director Mike Seresin.)We desperately wanted a bright red car, but this ‘meh’ metallic green was all the client could come up with.

Tampax. (1980-81. Art director David Owen.)Originally we wanted these to be like ‘Home Sweet Home’-style tapestry samplers, but for some reason the client said no.

This was Tampax having a pop at Lil-Lets, who used this glass of water demo in their ads.

Tequin. (1981. Art director David Owen.)Either spec work for our book, or a pitch.

Wella Pitch.As above.

LOWE HOWARD-SPINK.British Airports. (1983. Art director Dave Christensen)

Albany Life. (1983. Art directors Andy Lawson, Dave Christensen.)

Vauxhall. (1985. Art director Alan Waldie, director Peter Levelle.)

(1984. Art director Alan Waldie.)

Plymouth Gin. (1984. Art director Alan Waldie, illustrator Roy Knipe.)

Parker. (1982. Art director Dave Christensen.)

Heineken. (1985. Art director Alan Waldie, director Paul Weiland.)

(1984. Art director Alan Waldie.)

(1982. Art director Tony Kaye.)

SAATCHI & SAATCHI.

Tinitus Association. (1986. Art directors Paul Arden and Roger Pearce.)

Campbell's. (1986. Art director Paul Arden.)

Anchor Butter. (1987. Art director Paul Arden, director Mike Seresin.)

(1986. Art director Paul Arden, director Terry Lovelock.)

(1986. Art director Paul Arden.)

COLLETT DICKENSON PEARCE.

Hamlet. (1987. Art director John Foster, produced overnight by director Bernard Lodge.)

Army. (1988. Art director John Foster.)

BET. (1988. Art director John Foster, director John S. Clarke.)

Hamlet. (Art director John Foster, director David Garfath.)

Eurotunnel. (1988. Art director John Foster.)

McDougall's. (1987. Art director John Foster.)

Condor. (1988. Art director John Foster, director Simon Delaney.)

WCRS MATTHEWS/MARCANTONIO.

LOWE HOWARD-SPINK.Canon. (1991. Art director Rod Waskett.)

Melody. (1990. Art director John Foster, director Barry Myers.)

EveningStandard. (1991. Art director Rod Waskett.)

Scottish Amicable. (1995. Art director Steve Dunn.)

London Zoo. (1991. Art director Rod Waskett.)

OMO. 'Dirt Is Good'. (2003. Art director Dave Christensen, director Gregor Nicholas.)

ARTICLES.Campaign.

D&AD Copy Book.

D&AD Annual, 1994.

Poem I wrote in response to a brief set at one of Tony Brignull’s copywriting seminars, held at Lowe Howard-Spink in Nov 1994.

Unilever Interview.

Control Magazine.

Speech To Conference.

‘‘Alright fatty, what you after?”How do you react?I'm guessing it would taint your opinion of that particular bookshop, making you less inclined to buy.Nobody likes being disrespected or patronised.What about if that bookshop owner had said “Oh, just to let you know; the new Proust collection is just in”.Sure, you'd look behind you to check that they were talking to you, but you couldn’t help but be pleased that they’d presumed you were intelligent.It may even make you more inclined to go back. (It would me.)But, since it wore small pants, advertising has talked at people as if they're dumb.Why?There's no evidence that talking down to people is some kind of magic selling bullet.Yesterday I walked the length of the platform in Archway tube station, studying the endless parade of 16 and 48 sheet posters, by the end I couldn’t help wondering why they all looked so trashy.They seem to have had the same production budget as the direct mail that I sweep from my doormat every morning, so, not surprisingly, shared a similar vibe.Each dominated by big words, (in the brand colour).Each written to the same brief: ‘We’re awesome!’.Each featuring a cut-out product shot the size of a small car. (Generally on the right.)Then; words, words, words, everywhere.Visually, this gives the impression of afterthoughts, a kind of ‘Oh yeah, before you go, we've just remembered; we’ve got 4% off until June…AND…hang on, we're not finished; We've just opened our 57th store…in Croydon…it's open ‘til 8 Sundays…'.The net affect of this says to its audience 'we can’t be arsed, you’re not worth it’.We can’t be arsed to distil our thinking.To figure out why it’s relevant to you.To say it succinctly.To say it in a way that you may enjoy.To make it look nice.And we certainly can’t risk giving you the truth; YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!It's disrespectful.Why does that make sense?If you're asking people to give you their attention at least have the decency to give them something in return. Useful information, a fresh point of view, an observation on their life, a smile or even just something nice to look at, but give them something, throw them a frickin’ bone.By contrast, these New Yorker ads seem to assume, rightly, that their audience is smart. Just looking at them makes you feel more intelligent.If you're trying to win someone over, to sell them something, it helps if they feel that you respect them.Once, in a Mercedes meeting with Peter Mead, the client wondered whether the ads were too clever for their audience.Peter said he’d been in a similar meeting 20 years earlier.In that instance the client had said "I like the ads, but, most of my customers are more likely to be chip shop owners than executives like me, maybe the ads are just too clever?".Peter replied "In my experience, chip shop owners don’t mind being talked to as if they’re executives, but executives don’t like being talked to as if they’re chip shop owners".(Apologies to any chip shop owners out there who may find that quote offensive…apologies on behalf of Peter.)[contact-form][contact-field label="Name" type="name" required="true" /][contact-field label="Email" type="email" required="true" /][contact-field label="Website" type="url" /][contact-field label="Message" type="textarea" /][/contact-form]

"Hey Dave, I’ve got something you might want to share on your blog.It’s 30 minutes of David Abbott pitching the famous BT Bob Hoskins campaign, direct to camera, apparently for some BT big-wigs who missed the original presentation.Not only is it a lovely piece of advertising history, it’s also a masterclass for any creative about to step into pitching.I found it when I was at AMV and had to present a re-pitch for the entire BT account. Frankly I was shitting myself, and I can’t tell you how much this helped.You’re watching probably the world’s greatest copywriter, presenting what became one of the era’s best-loved campaigns, to what was then Britain’s biggest client.No fuss, no gimmicks, no mega-bucks mood-films. Not even that many executions of the ads.I love the quiet authority and the modesty that almost completely disguises the salesmanship laced all the way through.Anyway, it’s been sitting in my bottom drawer for over a decade. I’ve no idea if any other copies have survived, so hopefully this one can become another lasting tribute to the great man.Cheers,Markham."

Thanks for lugging this DVD around for a decade Markham, and thanks for sending it to me, I wouldn't mind betting that AMV/BBDO don't even have a copy of this.This was my favourite from the campaign that followed.

P.s. A big thanks to the good folks at Tenthree, they kindly converted the DVD from some antiquated, last century format into the splendour that you see before you today.

These ads from 1960's copies of The New Yorker are weird.They’re just so, well, New Yorker ads from the sixties.As evocative of their era as a Blockbuster membership cards and the sound of fax machines were of theirs.That’s not a criticism, some are great.But it’s striking just how different they feel.So different that it got me thinking why and what unifies them?1: $’s.Look at the ads and you’ll notice that they have all the corners; none have been cut.In the sixties, millions of people bought the New Yorker every week, so it would cost a King’s ransom to buy a single page.As a rule of thumb, 15% of the media cost is allocated for production of the ad that will fill it.So if your media costs a King’s Ransom you’ll have a Prince’s Ransom to produce your idea.Some will say ‘A good idea can cost nothing’, and that’s true, you could produce a dozen Economist posters for the price of a small cappuccino.But having a wider range of options, not just red ink, will always improve your chances of creating something good.The options here include commissioning Avedon, Penn or Warhol for an image of Streisand, Hepburn or Fonda.Handy when you’re trying to interest people.2: ‘THE NEW PAGE.’It was the talk of Madison Avenue at the time.VW had done it, Avis had done it, art directors were desperately trying to find new ways dividing up their pages, so that people would recognise the page as theirs before spotting their logo.As a consequence, these layouts seem particularly varied.3: TIME.We can now produce ads hundreds of times faster than these ads were produced.Unfortunately, the human brain hasn’t kept pace with technology.The speed we have to work today can have benefits, it can stop us over thinking, gets our adrenalin flowing and those things can give our output a certain energy.But generally, if you have time to reflect, rewrite and rethink, the work will be better for it.4. INTELLIGENCE.Probably the thing that ties these ads together most is their tone; thoughtful and witty.It makes total sense; they’re from the New Yorker, a thoughtful, witty magazine.But as a subscriber to the New Yorker, I can tell you that those pages aren’t used that way by advertisers today.Which is a shame.It’s nice to feel that others think you’re intelligent and have a good sense of humour.Rather than a schmuck.5. WORDS.Boy, there’s a lot of them.We’ve got used to the idea that a good press ad is a poster; big visual, as few words as possible.That’s not the case here, the creatives know they're talking to readers, people who aren't scared of words, so they try to engage them with what they like; words.It makes total sense, it’s for the New Yorker reader.The 1960s New Yorker reader.Today's New Yorker ads don't appear to use the same tactic, I checked, although there were so few of them in the latest issue it’s difficult to be sure.Maybe the two things are linked?

Another batch of fertilizer.That’s not a euphemism by the way, just a reminder that ideas grow from ideas, they rarely appear out of the blue.I sometimes hear people say ‘I’m all about tomorrow, I never look back…I’m like an arrow heading towards the future’. It sounds bloody exciting.Then I look at their output, and it often feels so...so, soul-less gimmicky...nothingy.Like it or not, the truth is that jobs, like most jobs, are less about inventing than improving.Elon Musk is currently refining an idea Ford had a hundred years ago, Jeff Bezos is refining the supermarket and James Dyson is refining the Hoover (or vacuum as he calls it).The same in our business, to quote Coco Chanel: ‘Only those with no memory insist on their originality'.Most 'new' work is old work in a new pair of pants.It’s not a negative, or a positive for that matter, it’s just a fact.Consequently, it’s helpful to expose yourself to as many previous ‘Hoovers’ as possible, because, although technology may have moved on, the chances are you’ll stumble across thinking that will inspire or improve your thinking.Good luck.

First, it seems that Part 1 hit a bit of a nerve.I got a way more feedback than I usually do.Maybe it was a contrast to the science, pseudo science and plain bullshit around our business at the moment?But reducing the process down to a simple, human form seemed to really resonate, one person said it was like 'advertising unplugged'.Which was the point.But you never really know how people will respond, often the posts I like most are the least viewed.Also, I really wasn't sure whether to do that or not; Would people relate to such a basic form of advertising? Would the boards have any effect? Would I look foolish in the process?Second; I got some data; December 2017 v December 2018.(I started putting out those boards three weeks before Christmas.)Sales in 2018 were up 9%.Hurrah!Anyone who's been around advertising for a while will know that it's very hard to directly attribute sales to ads, or even A-Boards.People always cite the warm weather, cold weather, low price, high quality, and a whole bunch of other factors before crediting the advertising.But in the absence of those people, I'm claiming it.+9% is very encouraging.(Although, being an art director, I'd have preferred double figures, 11% looks more than 2% more than 9%, don't you think?).So, what did I learn from Part 1?a) The first job is to jump out and grab passers-by.b) The fewer words and pictures you use the more chance you have of jumping out and grabbing passers-by.c) Be clear, not open to interpretation.d) Make the messages relevant to passers-by.Jesus! Is that learning?I was told that 30 years ago and the people who told me that were probably told that 30 years before.Looking at the positive; what I was taught 30 years ago is as relevant today as it was then.So perhaps it's been a useful reminder.WEEK 3 CLIENT FEEDBACK:

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Cheese continued to sell well."Looking back, it's far too complicated for an A-Board, too many small words, plus; I buried the most interesting bit; 'Kate Moss'.Maybe we could call out famous local residents/customers?It may get picked up on social media...or actual media.E.g. 'HEY JAMIE OLIVER! We've got some of that Italian cheese in that you like.'The client rejects the idea, worrying that it may put famous customers off coming in.

CLIENT FEEDBACK:"People didn't get it."Well, to be more precise; some people came in and said they didn't understand it, the people who did understand it probably didn't feel the need to pop and announce that they understood it.In retrospect, it's topical, but not particularly motivating or relevant to people.

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Sales weren't bad, a couple of people asked for wiggly lines with their ciabatta."Shame, I quite liked that one.

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Sold quite a lot, I spotted quite a lot of people reading it and looking up at our sign."Good, but no 'Pannetone''.Maybe it's just too abstract, 'We have our own brand of olive oil' would be clearer, but dull.WEEK 4.CHEESE.A short-hand has developed; I'll occasionally walk past and notice a board is missing, this is generally due to some client discomfort with a message, e.g. 'our stuff is pricey'.In this instance it was because the client was amending the creative work, without warning, discussion or contact reports.Kate Moss and her mouse have been axed in favour of a cheese and some new words.If you're in the creative department it's in your contract to find fault with client amendments.But not being in a creative department I decide to ignore the tiny Action Man sized knife, the angle of the line crossing out 'Switzerland' and the weird blob purporting to be 'Toast'.Instead I look on the positive side; it kind of works, it's fewer words than before, it's better for selling a specific cheese, let's see what happens.

CLIENT FEEDBACK: ''Cheese continued to sell well''.OWN BRAND OLIVE OIL.I was disappointed with the results of the last execution, it's a big-ticket item, a good product, a new product and it's exclusive to Limone.I have another chat with the client.Again, she regales me with stories about how good it is, the part of Sicily it came from, how she'd spent seven years looking for a virgin olive oil to put their name, how many she'd tried and rejected before choosing this one.It's very convincing but difficult to distil that down to a few words.Also, it's better when delivered by a human being who believes it than a two-dimensional blackboard.The client also mentioned that people often come in and ask her for recommendations, maybe we use the board as one big recommendation?

Walking past it the next day two things occur to me;1. It's the same as an ad I did with Sean back at AMV/BBDO.

2. It's rubbish.The issue is media; in mass media, like the Volvo ad, being so chatty like that is a contrast to all the bombast around it, so makes it charming, on a chalkboard it feels normal, possibly even under-selling it.What to do? What to do?One of the things that's been in the back of my mind has been the price; £16.99, pretty expensive, not perhaps in the world of fancy virgin olive oils, but it is in the world of wandering down the high street to pick-up a nice olive oil.I know the client doesn't want to talk about stuff being dear, but perhaps we need to mention it.I have an idea I like; the client can sell the olive oil better than any chalkboard.ME: Why don't we invite people in to talk to you about your olive oil and why it's so expensive?CLIENT: I didn't really want to mention the price, some people will think it's expensive.ME: It is expensive...but there's no way you can make a sale without the price coming up?CLIENT: Yeah...but some people can't afford that.ME: We're not talking to them.CLIENT: I don't know...do we have to say expensive?ME: Maybe we just say ask me why it costs £16.99?CLIENT: Mmm...ok, I'll trust you.ME: If they come in and talk to you about it, we're half way there, maybe even 53% there?

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Mmm...about the same as last week".Damn! I had high hopes for that one, who could going in to find out more? Many people, it turns out.BRAND.As often happens, a client has fallen in love with a particular execution, so runs it again and again and again.Sometimes the client will mention that people often say they like that one, as if to pressure me not wipe that board clean and start again.

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "People seem to really like that one".WEEK 5.Weird one this.In the middle of a conversation my Abundance Investment client Matt, he tells me he's just had a terrible cruffin.I didn't know how to respond, was it something that needed treatment?He informs me that it's a muffin/croissant hybrid they're selling in Brighton.I decide to use it, maybe it's good to appear as though you have your finger on the pulse of food, even if you think it's crap.(Spend too long, about an hour, trying to think of pretentious food hybrids that may be sold in Shoreditch.It's a fun thing to do, but a single A board doesn't deserves that amount of time.)

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Mixed, I had a lot of people saying they thought that board was funny...and probably the same amount ordering cruffins...which I don't sell."Wow! Humans; what a bunch of nutters! It literally says 'we don't sell cruffins' in big words.It's the kind of feedback you get when being debriefed by research companies and don't believe.CHEESE.Generic cheese; what do we say?I like the idea that cheese you buy from a deli comes in exactly the size you want, not a predetermined block.Bespoke sizes?We cut just the amount you need?I know we're not solving a problem people have with cheese, but it reminds them its fresh cut, not pre-packaged supermarket cheese.

CLIENT FEEDBACK: "Cheese sales continued to be strong."Blimey, I wonder what difference the executions are making? Is simply calling out cheese enough? Would sales be just as strong if just wrote 'Cheese' with an arrow next to it?COFFEE CUP ISSUE.Just up the road is a Fancy Dan branch of the Gails chain, they've just introduced a new, ecologically sound coffee cup which seems to have hit Limone's coffee sales.The client has suggested giving 20% off to people with their own cups, that's even more ecologically sound than Gails offer.I sketch out a big call to action idea.

Whoa! Hang on a minute; too many words, too serious looking.I draw a cup and some T'dah! lines.Better.

CLIENT FEEDBACK:"Not bad, bit of an improvement in sales, sold a few plastic cups too.One bloke came in to ask who did the signs as 'all cups are portable, I know about these things...I'm an author' ".Not sure about the portable thing, it was supposed to be a joke?But the thought isn't motivating enough?WEEK 6.COFFEE CUP ISSUE.A new push to sell coffee without the paper cup.So, 20% off.Initially I come up with an idea for a cup of coffee loose, wobbling around like liquid in space, with a line like '20% OFF COFFEE, YOU'LL NEED YOUR OWN CUP THOUGH!'But then I think; 20% didn't move people last time, why should it this time? The cute wobbly coffee visual? I don't think so.Taking your own cup to and from the store is a pain in the arse, the only reason people do it is to do their bit for their planet; we need either:a) Picture of their planet.b) The word 'SAVE!'orc) The word 'HELP!'.Initially I write 'Save this and 20% off this' next to a picture of Earth and a cup of coffee.Bit serious.

Not sure whether to use the word 'already'.I like it because it makes Earth sound more characterful, like it has an accent.The accent may be Jewish, is that bad to sound Jewish? Or is that just a more characterful voice?It's not derogatory, I'm over-worrying.A.M. QUIETER THAN P.M.Who could we appeal to in the mornings?Young mums; there seem to be a lot of them, many having just dropped older kids at one of the many schools in Highgate.Although they tend to go to the coffee chains further up the hill.We need to invite them in, Deli's can come over as a bit serious and grown up, maybe we can send out a signal that 'You and your baby are welcome here'.Let's give them a discount at a particular time.

(Like 'Nappy Hour', possibly should've saved it for something bigger, oh well, let's just keep it between us.)CHEESE.Is it selling because we're singling out cheese or are the executions helping?Let's find out whether it would sell just as well by simply writing 'CHEESE!' next to an arrow pointed at the shop.

PART 3 NEXT MONTH...

"Frank Lowe single-handedly cajoled a whole generation of writers, art directors and film directors into revolutionising British and world advertising.” - Sir Alan Parker.It seemed a bit over the top.I know he was very good and had a big impact on the business, but 'single-handedly'?I guess Alan is his mate, so probably bigged him up a bit.Having just spent three hours nose to nose with Frank, I got a taste of what Alan was talking about.I can't think I've met anyone who's as sure of their own opinion.That may read like a back-handed compliment, it's not meant to be.Just that he totally believes in the power of advertising, he's so unwavering that it was striking.Especially today, when nobody seems be very sure of what advertising even is.It's easy to see (and hopefully hear) how generations of clients and agencies would've been persuaded, cajoled or battered into aiming higher.Higher to Frank meant "not just achieving sales success, but ensuring any advertiser entering people’s lives uninvited, left them a little better or richer for their visit”.Enjoy being cajoled.

PRITCHARD WOOD.National Provincial.The little girl needed the loo, she twists and turns trying to hold it in until someone shouts 'cut'.The result was charming. (Although people would probably locked up for that today.)But there was a problem; it was one take, a 67" take, the agency had booked 60 second spots.They didn't want to cut it to a 60" and it wasn't long enough to fill a 90", (the only available time lengths being sold for cinema at the time).Frank 'cajoled' the media company into running 67" ad.

(Frank is on the left, spotted looking bored by a producer at the agency, then cast.)COLLETT DICKENSON PEARCE.

CDP was Britain's DDB.It revolutionised advertising in this country, producing campaigns that the public loved; Hovis, Hamlet, Heineken, Harvey's Bristol Cream. (That's just the 'H's.)You may have noticed that I'm not shy of posting a very long stream of work, but trying to figure out what to show here was tough as the volume of good work was just incredible, way more of it than I'd remembered.So I tried to impose a bit of discipline, I figured the best way to judge an agency is to look at what they do across all their clients.Anyone can hit it out of the park once, but year after year, client after client, category after category, that takes skill.So I've tried, but didn't always succeed in picking one ad per client.So here we go...Army.

Barclaycard.

Barclays.

Benson & Hedges Gold Box.

Benson & Hedges Small Cigars.

Birds Eye.

Cinzano.

Citizen.

Clarks.

Cockburns.

Daily Express.

Dunn & Co.

EMI.

Fiat.

Hamlet.

Harvey's Bristol Cream.

Heineken.

Hovis.

J&B Rare.

Nescafe Coffee.

Olympus.

One Hundred Pipers.

Parker Pens.

Rawlings.

Silk Cut.

Senior Service.

Special Panetellas.

Texaco.

Walls.

LOWE HOWARD-SPINK.

Albany Life.

Applejacks.

Bell's.

Castella.

Flowers.

Hanson Trust.

Heineken.

Hula Hoops.

The Independent.

JVC.

Lloyds.

Long John.

Mail On Sunday.

Malibu.

Plymouth Gin.

Reebok.

Scalextric.

Stella Artois.

Tesco.

Vauxhall.

Weetabix.

Whitbread.

You Magazine.

Articles about Frank.

'Dear Mr Leverhulme, I Think We May Have Solved Your Problem' - Frank Lowe.

(Thanks Grant, it'll be back soon.)

Some things are made for each other.
Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Strawberries and cream. Parma ham and mango (see below).

To this list of perfect partnerships we must add another: Sainsbury's and Abbott Mead Vickers.

It all started one afternoon in 1979 when David Abbott's secretary put a call through to him saying there was someone from Sainsbury's on the line. David thought it was his local Sainsbury's, where his wife regularly shopped.

It wasn't. It was Peter Davis, the Marketing Director of Sainsbury's, who said he had a project he thought David might be interested in and could they meet. Just the two of them. In the Putney store.

The two men walked around the store (we don't know if they had a trolley, or, if they did, who was pushing it), with Peter pointing out various products of interest and explaining to David that he wanted to do a quality press campaign for their fresh foods and own label products.
He wasn't happy with the work his agency Saatchi & Saatchi had produced, and would David like a crack at it?
Peter was going on holiday for three weeks and wondered if David might be able to show him some ads on his return.
He gave David a contact in the marketing department who could fill him in on product details.

In truth, client and agency needed each other. The previous year, AMV - or Abbott, Mead, Davies & Vickers, as it was then known - had run a house ad in Campaign magazine showing the smiling agency principals with the line

A horizontal product demanded colour on both pages.

Left to right: Peter Mead, David Abbott, Peter Mayle (part-time chairman, soon to become full-time author), Adrian Vickers and Guy Davies (the agency's first planning director). Mayle and Davies quit the agency shortly afterwards, leaving the triumvirate A, M and V.

Sainsbury's meanwhile had been engaged in an advertising price war with arch rivals Tesco, conducted mainly on TV through their agency Saatchi & Saatchi.
It was Saatchi's who had invented the line "Good food costs less at Sainsbury's", but their ads had been much more about "costs less" than "good food". Peter Davis wanted to redress the balance with a high-profile press campaign to reinforce Sainsbury's quality credentials.

To David Abbott and his art director Ron Brown, this was manna from heaven - the chance to do a big, beautiful, colour press campaign for the bluest of blue-chip clients, with carte blanche to pick the products they thought would make the best ads. And just to put the cherry on the cake, there was no other agency involved. This wasn't a pitch, it was a proposal of marriage.

The campaign was scheduled to run in all the quality Sunday supplements and upmarket women's magazines. David and Ron wanted to do double page spreads, in colour of course, but even with Sainsbury's substantial budget a campaign of colour spreads would run to only a few ads a year. And David wanted to do lots of ads a year.
It was AMV's senior media buyer Paul Gummer who came up with the ingenious (his word) idea of the colour/mono spread - one page colour, for the product, the other page black and white, for the copy.
The ads would have all the impact of colour spreads but at much less cost.

Before putting pentel to layout pad, David and Ron spent many hours with Sainsbury's buyers, gleaning the nuggets of product information that would form the basis of the ads.

Three weeks later David met with Peter Davis again - again just the two of them - to present the fruits of his and Ron's labours.
There would have been a dozen or so concepts, with two or three pieces of body copy to establish the tone of voice.
Peter must have liked what he saw because he awarded AMV the account there and then - even though David was the only person from the agency he'd met.

There was only one point of discussion - Peter wanted a large Sainsbury's logo on the ads. David had agreed to use the Good food costs less at Sainsbury's line, but no logo.
He argued that since the line included the brand name it would be superfluous - and inelegant - to also have a Sainsbury's logo on the ads. Instead, to ensure the campaign was strongly branded, he promised to include the word Sainsbury's in every headline.

And so began one of the longest-running and most successful press campaigns in British advertising history.
The ads assembled below are a selection, in approximate chronological order, from the first 10 years of the campaign. All but two were written by David and art directed by Ron, and all but a dozen or so photographed by the meticulous Martin Thompson.

Looking at the campaign now, forty years on, one is struck by the sheer beauty and elegance of the work. The photography is luscious, the typography big, bold and authoritative.
But it is the words themselves that separate this campaign from any other. They speak to you not as a consumer, or even a customer, but as a friend. They speak with authority, but also with warmth and wit.

The headlines are intriguing, engaging, compelling. The copy, intelligent and informative, always charming, never condescending. Every ad presents a strong product story. Many incorporate a recipe. There's usually a value message to go with the quality. And sometimes you get a history lesson into the bargain.

You may have neither the time, nor the inclination, to read six hundred words about a hot cross bun. But you know that if a hot cross bun is worth six hundred words, it must be some hot cross bun. The copy becomes part of the visual.

Conversely, the shortest ad in the campaign is possibly the strongest. The copy is as lean as the mince it describes. (As David once said "I never sit down to write a long piece of copy. I sit down to try and sell something. The rule is, say what you have to say and stop when you've finished.")

Some of the copy may seem a little quaint in today's gigabyte world, but David's gentle persuasion is as effortless and rewarding to read now as it was then. Gentle the persuasion may have been, but the results were startling. The mango ad increased sales from 1,000 cases a week to 10,000 cases. The ad for sparkling Saumur did even better - sales up by a factor of 14. And Sainsbury's entire range of speciality pasta sold out within a week of the ad announcing it.

Only after 5 years and 60-plus ads did David feel he could entrust his baby to another creative team. I'm proud to say John Horton and I were that team. (No pressure.) The campaign continued for many more years, with other teams, as well as David and Ron, contributing to the pot.
From time to time (usually coinciding with the appointment of a new marketing director), the ads went through various different "looks" in an effort to keep the campaign "fresh". But none of these were as pure, as powerful, or indeed as fresh as the original.

Enough of my words. Time to enjoy David's.

The essence of Sainsbury's - introducing new and sometimes unpronounceable food items to the British shopping list.

A pound of raw minced beef. And not an ounce of fat in the copy. (Remember pounds and ounces?)

The Sainsbury's-in-the-headline rule didn't apply if there was branding in the visual.

An ad that demonstrates Sainsbury's love of their customers - and David's love of his wife.

According to Jeremy Miles, the account director, David did this ad in the taxi on the way back from the briefing meeting. Sales of the house claret increased by 270%. The Haute Medoc by 430%.

Every time I see this ad I want to eat it.

Inside every copywriter there's a toe-curling pun just itching to get out.
It's a testament to the client's good humour that they let this one escape.

I have taken the liberty of including my first Sainsbury's ad, done with John Horton, and the first not done by David & Ron.

David always said he resisted using "tastes uncannily like fresh fruit" as the headline. My line, dare I say it, would have been "The resemblance is uncanny."

Another Foster & Horton ad, included here purely for egotistical reasons.

David's last Sainsbury's press ad.
In his own words: "Oh, the joy of it! On the afternoon before Budget Day, the Evening Standard prints a photograph of the Chancellor of the Exchequer in Downing Street.
Some of his papers are stuffed into a Sainsbury's bag.
Wonder of wonders, the slogan is clearly visible.
I write a line and we move fast to produce an ad - the client says yes and we run the ad on Budget Day and I fall in love again with this crazy, wonderful business."

This book was glued and cellotaped together before Hiut Denim, The Do Lectures, Do Books and Howies were even a glint in Dave's eye.
It's nearly 30 years old.
But it's so them.
It features the same ingredients that shine through those companies today - humanity, ecology, wit, positivity, a wide-eyed curiosity and a kind of folksy down home vibe.
In fact, if you wanted to make a Dave Hieatt pie, here's the recipe book.

I'm not a big fan of 'BRAND PURPOSE'. It seems to replace specific reasons for buying a product with generic claims that aren't even specific to the product category, let alone the product.It leads companies to make claims that make them seem nuts.Charcoal insoles that 'stop sneakers from smelling' get elevated to 'Creators of a nose-friendly planet'.If you can't say it to someones face without feeling embarrassed, don't say it.'DISRUPTION' is another popular word.But it's a $10 word for 'different'.'Different' gets noticed, a huge part of advertising, also, I get why TBWA rebranded the word to 'disruption', it's been good for them, but it's spin, it's part of the job, not THE job.(It's also generally the executional part of the job).'STORYTELLING' is another.It just seems so indulgent, I might decide to buy a pint of beer because the brewery was set up by three ambidextrous vets from Nantwich, but equally, it could be it because it was cheap, had a nice bottle or because it tastes nice.I'm not against 'disruption', 'brand purpose', 'storytelling' or any number of these $10 words currently doing the rounds, but they aren't the answer, they're an answer; different tools in the toolbox.On the front of that box is the word 'selling'.I know, I know, such a coarse word.We avert our eyes from it the same way we do when looking at the sun, preferring to look to the sides.Is it too basic? Too low rent? Not intelligent sounding enough?Who knows?We're allowed to reframe in more flattering, more high-brow terms because we're not at the sharp end, we're insulated from the harsh financial realities of by layers and layers of people.Consequently a layer of space junk has built up around the world of advertising that's obscuring the very point of it; communicating to the public on behalf of businesses to sell their stuff.It's a proper job, it can be amazing, creative and fun.I've been thinking about putting a post together on these basics; getting attention, making a message simpler and more engaging. I thought I'd choose the most basic, amoeba-like form of advertising to show how a bit of creative discipline can help.Maybe a 'guitar lessons' ad from a news agents window or a 'Lost dog' poster from a tree?For example, a 'Lost dog' poster would be if it was more specific and said 'Lost Labrador', it may be improved again by making it more emotional 'Lost Labrador, answers to 'Eric', and so on.But I didn't get around to it.Then, whilst waiting for my flat white to be made, I spotted these:

'Jesus! Who could be arsed to read all those little words?'.Perfect! Rather than deconstruct something in theory, maybe I can construct something in reality?I pitch the owner; Emine, the idea of trying to drum up more business via her A-boards.She says yes, I will refer to her from now on as 'the client'.I like the fact that there's nowhere to hide, it'll either make a difference or not.Also, maybe I'll learn something. Ok, so here we go...What's our media?Two black & white A Boards, (4 sides in total).Do we hammer one message 4 times or have four messages?We've got a pretty captive audience; they will pass our ads repeatedly, so let's start with 4 separate executions.People see them on the move, walking past, so like posters, the number one issue is to stop them.So we have to be simple, use bigger words and/be unusual, (or 'disruptive' as they'd say over at TBWA towers).What can we learn from the previous work?

Firstly, there are far too many points being made. That not only makes it hard for people to focus on each message, it means the words have to be very small, making them harder to read and less likely to get noticed.So what can we lose?THE LOGO?The board is placed outside the shop, I think people will connect the two, so that can go for a start.THE BRANDING?Or 'Lemons' as they're sometimes called. They're not doing any heavy lifting, they can go.'CELEBRATING 6 YEARS IN THE VILLAGE'?100 years might be worth shouting about, but six? Gone.'LOCAL & INDEPENDENT'?Well, it's obviously local, I'm standing here looking at it, that's a point that doesn't need making.'Independent' seems like a good thing to push, there's been an explosion of corporate coffee shops, there seems to be a trend towards all things bespoke, unique and quirky, whatever the category.'SERVING THE FINEST...ARTISAN CHEESES, CURED MEATS, WINES, BREADS, PASTRIES & CAKES AND MANY MORE DELICACIES IN STOCK.'?Maybe we tackle them one by one, I've forgotten about 'artisan cheeses' by the time I've read 'delicacies', although that could just be me.'NEW IN - FRESH SALMON FILLETS (KOSHER).'?I like that, the very specific item, it forces you to consider whether you are interested in salmon fillets...or not.I also like the fact that they are kosher, not because I like kosher salmon fillets but because it's a very niche product, it makes me think that this deli may stock other very niche products that may surprise me.Products I may not be able to buy elsewhere.So what should our messages be?1. COFFEE.It's an everyday purchase, there are six other coffee shops in the village, so there must be a lot of local coffee drinkers locally, let's try to flag them down.2. CHEESE.Feels like it could be a small impulse purchase,3. BRAND.This is a fancy deli Highgate, not Tesco's.We are not offering everyday value, we sell fancy things that are quite dear. Let's be true to who we are.4. TOPICAL.Static isn't a good look for any brand or company, it's always good to appear current, evolving and moving forward, so maybe we could use one board for this?We could pick up on the calendar, Christmas, Easter, or whatever, we could reference the news or 'Kosher Salmon Fillets - in stock until Weds'.How do we speak?We're independent, so whatever corporate-speak is, we should be the opposite.Also, we're talking latte and dolcelatte, not life and death, so let's be fun and cheeky.WEEK 1:CHEESE:They're the only deli for about 4 miles.

BRAND:Let's say 'We're independent'. Saying we're not one of the chains sounds pious and off-putting, 'Our coffee is better than coffee chain coffee' sounds like bullshit, probably because it is? Also, the Costa mob up the hill might put a brick through our window.We just need to signal we are different from them because we're independent.

TACTICAL:Try selling a Christmas Hamper after December 24th plus they are a big ticket item.Maybe they're Christmas presents? For late present buyers, or 'men' as they are more commonly known.

LOCATION:Everyday, at 8.30 and 3 the streets are flooded with Lycra-clad mums dropping or picking up their girls from Channing's School.Let's ask them if they want a coffee.It's better if we are specific, what coffee would they drink? Skinny latte?

CLIENT FEEDBACK:CHEESE: We sold a lot, many buyers specifically asking for that 'smelly cheese'.INDEPENDENT: Nothing to report, but who's going to say I've just read your sign and would like to buy one fo your coffee's without a logo on the cup?LOCATION: Disaster; a handful of mums found our sign offensive, one citing that she worked with anorexic girls.I tried to look at the positive, saying it's great that our messages are getting noticed and bringing customers into the store.Client frowns.I then suggest swapping 'skinny' for 'fat'? Deeper frown.HAMPER: No sales bump, hamper sales went as expected. ad is probably too wordy to jump out.Maybe it's too wordy, must try harder.WEEK 2.CHEESE. Maybe we show our range?With a bit of self-deprecation.Mark Denton's phrase 'eye-wateringly expensive' springs to mind.

BRAND:Let's try to sum up our 'purpose'.

'Supplier' irritates me, 'purveyor' is more appropriate, a better, more formal contrast to the ultra informal 'bits & bobs'.

COFFEE: How the hell do I lure people in to buy a coffee just using chalk?Maybe we fess up about our aim?

TACTICAL. The client has just taken stock of some Christmas Hampers, they need to be gone, nobody buys Christmas Hampers in January.What do you say? Maybe they are a good Christmas present? Especially for those leaving their present buying to the last-minute, or 'men' as they are more commonly known as.

CLIENT FEEDBACK:CHEESE: Sales of cheese continued to be up.But on reflection, I feel it's too addy; the layout, the wording, these boards should handmade, not professional.Client feedback - 'Do we have to keep saying that everything is expensive?'BRAND: Weirdly, lot's of customers mention that they like that message.The general feeling is because it's accurate and charming.Client mentions that she particularly likes the look of this one - 'classy'.As I mentioned in 'Cheese', I think they should feel imperfect, as if the client has written them herself, if it looks like a professional has been called in we fail.COFFEE: Nothing to report, except the Dry Cleaner liked it.TACTICAL: Boom! Panettone sold out, ordered more.Again, the most specific thing seemed to work best.Next, a lot of people said they liked the 'purveyor of bits and bobs', when pressed why the clients said they thought it was true.

TACTICAL: The bit between Christmas and New Year? What do we say? We don't sell turkey.

LUNCH: The new 'coffee'. What do we say? We'll warm it? People probably aren't aware that it's possible to heat, also, it sounds personal, friendly.

Whilst waiting for my coffee the morning after the client mentions that few people have asked the client what a double entendre is.I look at it again; shit joke, too complicated and the idea is really the wiggly lines, which is lost.

BRAND: The client has just taken stock of some own-brand virgin olive oil. It apparently took 6 years and over 200 samples before she found one she was happy with, before settling on one from Sicily.Sounds impressive, so I try to take the essence of that information and condense it into a message.It's long and starts to sound like an advert.I figure the job is to make people aware that there is now a virgin olive oil that bears the shop name, she can talk the rest, face to face.

To be continued...

My first South American.One of the most thoughtful creatives I've come across.We worked together for a bit at Mother and I loved that he was forever curious about what the people in the real world were thinking, would they give a shit about our little product or dumb ad?Not surprisingly his new agency is different, its New.That's not a typo, that's its name.It's also appropriate because he's teamed up with a Rocket Scientist from... actually, not a rocket scientist, 'a founding Faculty Director of MIT Connection Sciences', similar, to me, (although ironically one of their clients are actual rocket scientists; NASA).We had a great chat, in fact Beresford, our young recording engineer at Wave, came in afterwards to tell me it was his favourite one he'd done, hope you enjoy it too.

THE EARLY DAYS.

LEAGAS DELANEY. (1 month.)

MOTHER.

WIEDEN + KENNEDY.Nike.

(C.D.)

MADRE.

Camper.

Fernet 1882.

"We did this for 1882 Fernet.We gathered what we thought were the best pictures of pet and animals with red eyes, (the classic unwanted effect), and we baptised this series ‘1882 possessed (or haunted) animals).It was mad, we had loads of these pictures all over Cordoba CityIt looked strange... and beautifulNo logo needed on most of them but a reminder here and there that this was a 1882 thing.People loved/hated/complained/detested it, but no one doubted which brand was behind it."

Molinos Rio De La Plata.

Casalta.

Commercial Aerlineas Argentinas.

NEW.Andes Origen.

NASA.

I've found a great book on advertising; ‘Methods of the Madmen’.The only problem is it's not available.It's been written by a friend of mine, Mike Everett, as well as writing the book Mike wrote many great ads whilst at Collett's and Lowe's, including the Olympus David Bailey campaign, the freaky 'Wrangler. That's what's going on', Birds Eye's 'Dishonest woman' and a bunch of Hamlet ads to name but a few.He's kindly allowed me to feature a few chapters here while he seeks a publisher,Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER 1.The Hamlet campaign ran for a quarter of a century.Yet the way in which it was conceived could hardly have been more humble.About the hardest job any advertising writer and art director can be given is that of creating a new television campaign. Once you’ve got your head around the product, the target market, the product’s competition, and the competition’s advertising, you and your partner are left alone, staring at a blank sheet of paper. In theory, what you now have to do is simple: work out a structure that nobody has ever used before, say something that nobody has ever said before, in a way that nobody has ever said it before. And don’t expect the creative brief to be much help, either. Usually, this piece of paper raises more questions than it does provide answers.Imagine, then, being Tim Warriner and Roy Carruthers. They are sitting in their shared office on the fourth floor of CDP’s Howland Street building staring at a brief that asks for a TV campaign for a new small cigar that is being launched by Benson & Hedges. It is 1964 and the name of this cigar is Hamlet.Tim and Roy are in good company. Arthur Parsons, John Reynolds and Alan Brooking sit along the corridor; Mike Savino is opposite. In fact, they are surrounded by a galaxy of creative stars presided over by the brightest star of all, Colin Millward, the creative director.You might think that being amongst all this talent would help the creative process, but not necessarily. The intense competition of your peers can inspire, but it can also stifle. Tim and Roy have to overcome their fear of failure and bring their confidence to the fore. They must determine to produce one of the finest campaigns of their lives. But, as is often the case, when you try that hard, nothing comes. Well, nothing good, anyway.You can work your balls off and still end up doing average work. This is why creative people develop techniques to provide themselves with inspiration. Some do these things instinctively; others have to learn. Generally, it has to do with what John Salmon, creative director of CDP in the seventies, once memorably described as ‘displacement activities’. As its name suggests, this is doing something that displaces what you are supposed to be doing. For example, writing a TV campaign for Hamlet Cigars. It could be going to the pictures, going to an art gallery, or going to lunch. Or it could be when your working day is over, when you start to relax, and so does your brain. The most famous example of a displacement activity is, of course, the literal one of Archimedes. He cottoned on to his famous principle that a body displaces its own mass in water when his own body was doing just that, as he lay in his bath. Tim and Roy had been working for a few days on Hamlet, but didn’t have anything yet that they considered good enough. It was the end of another miserable day during which they had made little progress. To add to their gloom it was dark, cold and pouring with rain as they traipsed down the steps of 18 Howland Street and headed for the bus home.The bus arrived and they climbed the stairs to the upper deck. In those days, the top decks of London buses were the preserve of smokers. Hard to imagine today, but the seats were filled with people puffing away on cigarettes and, in some cases, even pipes. It may have been misty outside, but inside the bus could be a real peasouper of a fog, if you were sitting upstairs.Tim and Roy gratefully settled into their seats and each lit up a cigarette, something they hadn’t been able to do in the wet outside. The bus passed a poster of the Shultz cartoon character, Charlie Brown. The poster had a caption that began ‘Happiness is…’, taking this in, Tim settled back in his seat and said ‘Happiness is a dry cigarette on the top deck of a 134 bus’.

The pair soon realised that if they changed what Tim had said to ‘Happiness is a cigar called Hamlet’, and put a suitably funny, but unfortunate event or situation in front of that line, they might have the campaign they’d been looking for.And so it proved.Well, that’s one version of how Tim and Roy did Hamlet, the generally accepted one, the official one, if you like. But there is another story.Vernon Howe, one of CDP’s senior art directors told a friend of his, Steve Harrison, that Tim Warriner had been trying to sell the idea of ‘Happiness is…’ to any client who’d have it. It just so happened that Hamlet bought it. You can choose which version you prefer.I know which one I do.The first commercial, filmed in glorious black and white, showed a man in a hospital bed with his leg in traction, happily puffing away on a Hamlet cigar. Tim and Roy did others: a music teacher, played by Patrick Cargill, whose pupil only plays the piano tunefully when his teacher smokes a Hamlet.

And ‘Launderette’ – yes, launderette – more or less the same idea used by Bartle Bogle Hegarty for Levis more than a dozen years later.

Instead of casting a hunk in the form of Nick Kamen, as Levis did, this being Hamlet, Tim and Roy filmed a meek looking city gent, complete with bowler hat.

Of course, the Hamlet campaign wouldn’t be the Hamlet campaign without the music, and we have Colin Millward to thank for that.Colin had served in the Royal Air Force. Shortly after the end of the Second World War he was posted to India where he lived in a hut for six months. The previous occupant had left Colin a gramophone, but only one record.On one side of this disc was Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune’. On the other, Bach’s ‘Air on the G String’.Colin remembered the Bach music and suggested that it should provide the commercials’ soundtrack.In 1959, a French Jazz Musician called Jacques Loussier had formed the ‘Play Bach Trio’. They released a series of albums under this name, featuring the simple combination of piano, bass and drums performing improvised versions of Bach.Amongst these was a jazz version of ‘Air on a G String’.OTHER HAMLET STUFF.1. Facts.The cigars come individually wrapped in cellophane. In many commercials, the cigar is seen in close up being removed from the pack with the cellophane intact, then in the actor’s mouth with the cellophane removed. Nobody seemed to notice this continuity error, which was intentional. The end line changed subtly in the early eighties to satisfy regulators who insisted that ‘from Benson and Hedges’ at the end of the line was selling cigarettes, rather than Hamlet. The words were dropped so that the end line became simply ‘Happiness is a cigar called Hamlet, the mild cigar.’ The commercial created in the shortest time was ‘Crash of ‘87’ written by Adrian Holmes and John Foster.

From conception to broadcast took just over 24 hours. The longest Hamlet commercial was ‘Photo Booth’ at one minute long.

The vast majority of Hamlet commercials were only 30 seconds in length. One Hamlet commercial, ‘Sidecar’, was written by a member of the public.

John Salmon oversaw the filming. John Carson voiced all Hamlet commercials, except those shown in The Republic of Ireland, which used Fergus O’Kelly because he was a member of Irish Equity and John Carson wasn’t.John Ritchie, who at that time was the account handler on Hamlet, was duly despatched to Paris to pursuade Jacques Loussier and his trio to record a 30 second version for use in the commercials.Ritchie tracked down Loussier to his apartment on the outskirts of Paris.Loussier wasn’t home so Ritchie camped outside for three days until the muscian turned up.To keep himself going, Ritchie had been popping uppers, so when he finally met Loussier he was hyper, unable to sit still, and conducted the negotiation with Loussier while running around the room.Nethertheless, he was successful and Loussier agreed on a £1,000 fee.As I struggled to explain why the Hamlet music is so apposite, I sought the help of a musician who was a friend of mine, the late Mike Townend. Mike had worked with people like Smokey Robinson and Burt Bacharach, so he knew what he was talking about. As well as pointing out that the correct title of the piece is ‘Air from Suite No 3 in D Major’, he told me to study Bach’s original version. He said it is typical of Bach’s early work in as much as it builds tension, then moves towards a release, or ‘climax’. When I heard this, it sounded just like the structure of a Hamlet commercial – tension in the form of an unfortunate event or situation, followed by release as the protagonist smokes the Hamlet – so that may be why the music is so apt. That, plus the fact that it’s a damned good tune, of course. Frank Lowe, managing director of CDP in the seventies, tells a story about Jacques Loussier and the music.“The music track was getting worn out so we had to go to Paris to re-record it with Jacques Loussier – John Richie, the TV producer and I went over and met with Jacques who played it several times… each time it was different and none of them were quite like the original.I had forgotten that jazz musicians normally extemporise differently every time they play any piece of music. We went to lunch at a very nice brasserie and during the lunch I challenged Jacques that he couldn’t play it in exactly the same way as the original - nonsense he said (or the French equivalent) and went back and played it exactly as we wanted it - whereupon we dashed back to London.”Tim and Roy’s legacy left those of us who worked in the creative department of CDP a lot to live up to. Year after year, teams of writers and art directors received briefs to write Hamlet commercials. Some of these follow up commercials came to be regarded as classics and became popular with the general public. And, as with the repertoire of a well-liked recording artist, everybody has his or her favourite.A film that many people cite, including Frank Lowe is ‘Bunker’.

This is the commercial that doesn’t show an unfortunate golfer whose ball has become lodged in a sand bunker. Neither does it show the cigar, nor the pack. All we see is smoke rising from below the rim of the bunker as the unseen golfer consoles himself with his Hamlet. By the time this commercial was made in 1980, the campaign was so well established that the creative team, Rob Morris and Alfredo Marcantonio, and the director, Paul Weiland, could get away with this cavalier approach to the client’s product.Interestingly, when I spoke to Mike Townend about the music, this was one of the two Hamlet commercials he mentioned spontaneously. The other was what is undoubtedly the public’s favourite, Gregor Fisher in the photo booth.What is undeniable is that this commercial is an outstanding piece of advertising, the brainchild of the creative team involved, Rowan Dean and Gary Horner. They spotted a sketch on a BBC programme called ‘Naked Video’. In this sketch, ‘Baldy Man’, a character created by comedian and actor Gregor Fisher, posed in a photo booth, only to be thwarted in his attempts to get the perfect photograph by series of mishaps culminating in the stool he is sitting on collapsing beneath him. Rowan and Gary immediately saw the potential for turning it into a Hamlet commercial, which they duly did.There’s no getting away from the fact that it worked – and promptly became the most memorable Hamlet commercial ever.Not for the first time, the Hamlet campaign had proved itself to be unstoppable.As Peter Wilson, a marketing manager at Gallaher in those days, says ‘the advertising for Hamlet was incredibly successful.It built the brand into the best-selling cigar in the UK market. Four out of every ten cigars sold was a Hamlet’.Were it not for the European Union or, as it was then, the EEC, who banned all tobacco advertising in the 1990s, it’s tempting to think that the Hamlet campaign could still be running today.As it was, the campaign took a dignified bow, and left our screens for good at the end of that decade, 25 years after it had begun.In all, CDP had created over 80 commercials, every one of which was a funny, beautifully told story of disaster followed by the happiness of smoking a Hamlet cigar. I wonder if back in 1964, those two blokes sitting in a dingy office, staring at a blank sheet of paper realised what a wonderful monster they were on the verge of creating. I doubt it. In all probability, they saw it as just another day’s work, albeit a pretty good one.2. Other commercials.

3. Print.

4. Mike on 'Venus De Milo', (1976).

The summer of 1973, Paul Smith and I were a couple of months into the job that was to have a profoundly beneficial effect on our lives: working as a creative team at Collett, Dickenson, Pearce.We’d got our first ad approved, a full page black and white effort for the Salton Hotray, a device designed to keep food warm until the person hosting a meal wished to serve it.Hence our ad’s headline: ‘Eat when you’re ready, not when the food is’. We’d also been given Silk Cut cigarettes to look after.Something that the account director on the business, Colin Probert, was a bit miffed about at the time, as he considered us to be too young and inexperienced to write and art direct the many ads demanded by such a large piece of business. (We went on to have a great working relationship with him.)But, so far, we hadn’t been asked to write any commercials. Then a brief for Hamlet arrived in our office.Hamlet was the agency’s most famous campaign. Not only was it successful at generating sales, it was also popular with the public.So much so that members of the public often sent in ideas for scripts.On one occasion, the idea was good enough to be used and a fee sent to the author.Still, for a young creative team faced with their first TV brief, the prospect of writing a Hamlet script remained daunting. On the face of it, Hamlet commercials are simple: something goes wrong, a Hamlet cigar is smoked, and all’s right with the world.But try writing one.Oh, it’s easy enough to find a situation that goes wrong. But to dream up one that’s funny as well, that’s the difficult bit.Especially after you’ve watched every Hamlet commercial that’s ever been made, as Paul and I did before we began work. If we didn’t know it before, we knew it now. There was a lot to live up to. We spent days writing scripts, or rather not writing them, as we searched for an idea that would tickle the funny bone of Vernon Howe, then our creative group head, John Salmon, the creative director and finally, Frank Lowe.In the case of all TV scripts that passed through the agency, Frank was God on High.Nothing was allowed out of the agency without his signature, plus those of John and Vernon and that John Ritchie, the account director.Eventually we managed to tease from ourselves a number of scripts that we considered good enough to show Vernon.But two stood out. One depicted a sculptor putting the finishing touch to a piece of his work, only to ruin it; the other was about a young man looking through a beach telescope whose money ran out just as the pretty girl he was ogling began to remove her bikini top.Vernon liked both, but suggested that the sculptor might be funnier if he was creating a famous piece of sculpture like the Venus de Milo.That was it, the Venus de Milo. Why didn’t we think of that? We could show the statue complete with arms. The sculptor would stand back to admire his work. He spots a small imperfection, takes hammer and chisel to one of the arms, and lo and behold, knocks it off. We’re left with the Venus de Milo, as now we know her. Bingo! We now had two great scripts.Or so we thought. There was still the agency approval system to get through.John Salmon had gone on holiday, leaving Geoff Seymour to approve all TV scripts, while Neil Godfrey and Tony Brignull were in overall charge of print.John usually did both. This meant that our two Hamlet scripts landed on Geoff’s desk for approval, instead of John’s.Almost immediately, Paul and I were summoned to Geoff’s office. He told us he liked the Venus de Milo idea, but thought that the beach telescope script was off strategy.Now the Hamlet strategy can be summed up in one word: ‘consolation’. And the guy who is robbed of the chance to see the bikini-clad girl disrobe certainly needed to be consoled. So we were confused by what Geoff had said.But we had two scripts on the table. Geoff asked us how many we needed. It was just one.So Venus de Milo went forward and Beach Telescope didn’t.I had never been involved in the production of a commercial before and Paul had only been through the process once. So when the approved script came back from the client and we were asked to make it we didn’t really know what to do.But we needn’t have worried. Barry Mathews was then head of TV production and he oversaw a team of brilliant producers.Almost immediately, one of these turned up in our office and asked us who we’d like to have to direct the film. Paul and I looked at each other. We had no idea. So our producer suggested we look at some show reels to help us decide.Looking at show reels is a great way to while away a couple of hours. It requires no real work and if you are watching the reel of one of the better directors, it can be highly entertaining. I have to say, though, it did help with our decision.We chose Sid Roberson and a meeting was set up to meet him.Sid had displayed a great sense of humour in the work we’d seen and the man himself didn’t disappoint.Among other things, he was famous for playing the archer in a series of Strongbow cider commercials that were then running on TV.His biceps were the size of rugby balls and he had a sense of humour to match.The shoot was scheduled to take place at the old Lee Studios in Ladbroke Grove shortly before Christmas.As it was our first CDP shoot, Geoff Seymour was sent along to the studio to watch over us.But we weren’t the ones who should have been watched over.Sid had hired as his director of photography somebody who was often referred to as the ‘Prince of Darkness’.We soon found out why. The filming went by swimmingly, as Sid got shot after shot into the can.Then, around six o’clock, when there was just one shot left to do, the Prince of Darkness sidled up to Sid.His Highness had just realised that he’d shot the entire film using the wrong exposure for his lighting. This meant that all the footage that Sid had shot was useless. We had no alternative but to film the whole commercial all over again. Imagine how Paul and I felt.Our first-ever CDP commercial and before we’d even finished it we were going into a re-shoot.Not exactly auspicious.5. Mike on 'Telescope', (1980).

Monday July 16^th, 1973 was the day that Paul Smith and I started at CDP.We’d arranged to meet at Tottenham Court Road tube station and arrived at the agency on the dot of nine, the agency’s official start time. Sergeant Hambleton, the Corps of Commissionaires doorman, gave us permission to go up the fourth floor, home to the creative department. Nobody was there. We didn’t quite know what to do, so we wandered around the empty offices looking at the work. The first office we walked into belonged to Tony Brignull. There, staring us in the face was a pile of concepts for Dunn & Co, the men’s clothier. The topmost concept, ‘Success doesn’t always go to your head’, showed a triptych of three men’s waistlines, one slim, one starting to develop a fat stomach, and one with a stomach that had already developed. We looked at the second ad in the pile: ‘The life of a designer for Dunn and Company is one of continual self-restraint’. We couldn’t look any further, we were terrified. If this was the standard of work the agency was producing we’d be lucky if we lasted a week. As it happened, we lasted 14 years.As if this wasn’t bad enough, the special effects didn’t work as well as we all hoped. Venus de Milo’s arm was supposed to be dislodged by the merest tap of the sculptor’s hammer on his chisel. In the event, it took a huge whack from the actor before the arm fell to the ground. As you can imagine, this rather spoiled the joke because it looked as if the sculptor was deliberately trying to smash off the arm. Eventually, we shot a take that didn’t look too bad and we moved on. But when we saw the rushes the next day (remember, in those days there was no video playback) the shot just didn’t work. Being inexperienced, Paul and I allowed the shot to go into the cut and showed the cut in the agency. Both Vernon and John Salmon spotted it immediately. John also asked if we had filmed anything after the sculptor lit his Hamlet where the actor looked at the one remaining arm as if to consider removing that one to match the fallen arm. Luckily, we did have such a shot and we cut it into the commercial. But there remained the question of the pivotal piece of film in which the sculptor accidentally removes the arm.There was nothing remotely useable in the footage we had shot, so John Salmon decided that we should set about re-filming that part of the commercial. The way this sort of thing was undertaken at CDP was to piggyback the re-shoot onto another CDP shoot if it was a short sequence like this. This was exactly what happened in this case. I can’t remember which shoot we invaded, but rather incongruously the sound stage had a flat (a wall used as a background) that represented the studio of an ancient Athenian sculptor, and three flats that made up the walls of a modern kitchen. The special effects boys had done some work and this time the arm severed itself without the actor having to take a lunge at it.The shot safely in the can, we presented the finished film to the agency. We asked our producer what would happen if Frank Lowe didn’t like it. She assured us he’d like it, it was a good film. But if he didn’t, she’d give him a blowjob, then he’d love it.As it happened, she wasn’t called upon to go beyond the call of duty.Frank loved the film anyway.So did the public.And so did the awards juries.Our first CDP commercial and our first Hamlet commercial safely on air and on our show reel.What a relief.Now let’s fast-forward to 1980.Here we are, still working at CDP, only now at Euston Road instead of Howland Street.We occupy an office on the 15th floor with glorious views over London.The only downside of our marvellous location is that the next room to ours is John Salmon’s private toilet.But that’s a small price to pay to be near John, who was now the agency’s managing director.However, being close to the boss didn’t mean we could put our feet up.Brief after brief was landing on our desks. We had never been busier.One of these briefs was awfully familiar: write a 30 second commercial for Hamlet using the Happiness end line.So the Hamlet campaign had made its way round the creative department back to us again after an interval of seven years.In the meantime, many more great commercials had been made. For example, Rita Dempsey and Phil Mason’s tennis commercial, which showed John Bluthal in a neck brace vainly attempting to watch a match at Wimbledon, unable to turn his head from side to side to keep track of the action.And Paul Weiland and David Horry’s robot commercial, made to coincide with the screening of Star Wars, where a C3PO type robot emerges from the production line with his head on backwards.Yes, we were faced not only with the same brief as seven years earlier, but also the same problem.Write a Hamlet commercial that’s so unexpected, yet so funny, that it stood a chance of getting made.Now if you’re in advertising you will know what I am about to tell you.Creative people never throw away a good idea. When it gets turned down, they keep it and try and use it again, usually for a different client or even in a different agency.John Webster, creative director of Boase Massimi Pollitt and probably Britain’s best ever writer of TV commercials, did this with a Volkswagen commercial that featured a driver being annoyed by a constant squeak as he drove his sleeping wife through the countryside.He stops at a service station and puts a drop of oil on his wife’s earring, end of squeak.John had apparently written this idea for British Leyland years before when he was at Pritchard Wood but the client had rejected it.Probably quite rightly, as in those days British Leyland cars were full of all sorts of squeaks.Another example is the Carling Black Label campaign, ‘I bet he drinks Carling Black Label’, which was originally written for the Milk Marketing Board as ‘I bet he drinks milk’.And guess what? Paul and I had never thrown away our beach telescope script.Geoff Seymour had long since left the agency. John Salmon had never seen the script, because he was on holiday. Vernon, too, had moved on to other pastures. He was now a successful film director.We got out the script and looked at it. Well, the paper it was typed on may have looked faded and dog-eared, but the idea was as shiny as ever.It still made us laugh.So we wrote it out again and had it re-typed.We didn’t even have to do what most people do, change the name of the product.The only change was the date at the top of the headed script paper.This time it sailed through the approval system, without a mention of strategy from anyone.One or two people may have been astonished at the speed at which Paul and I turned round the job.But if they were, they never showed it. It went to the client and straight into production.We chose Paul Weiland to film the script.Paul had been working as a commercials director at the Alan Parker Film Company and had recently left to start his own firm.Before that, he was a fellow copywriter at CDP. At one of our meetings with Paul, he had suggested that we needed something to lead the guy looking through the telescope to discover the girl as she took her bikini top off.What about a sailing boat, somebody suggested. No, we all decided, that would take too long.In the end, we hit on the idea of a water-skier. A water-skier would be able to travel faster through frame as the guy with the telescope tracked his progress.At the end of this tracking sequence, we could have the guy do a double-take with the telescope, then settle on the girl undressing just as his money ran out. Cue Hamlet moment. Perfect.If special effects are unreliable, try using a stunt man. Particularly, one who assures you he can water-ski.One thing you learn is that when people at casting sessions tell you they can do something, there’s a good chance they can’t.Can you drive? Yes. It’s a stone cold certainty that they don’t have a licence. Can you ride a horse? Yes, of course.They’ll fall off at the first opportunity, that’s assuming they can get on the bloody thing in the first place. Can you water-ski? You guessed it. We chose as the location for the shoot Durdle Door in Dorset. Apart from alliteration, it provided a perfect place to film the commercial.And we were lucky with the weather: a beautiful summer’s day with blue sky from horizon to horizon.All went well until the time came to film the water-skier.A mask was put over the camera lens to simulate the view through the telescope. Paul Smith, Paul Weiland and I were beside the camera, which was sited on top of the cliffs. Far below, the water-skier was bobbing up and down in the sea, awaiting the command via walkie-talkie to do his stuff.‘Turn over’, the instruction to start running the film through the camera, came from the ‘first’, the assistant director.The camera operator shouted ‘Speed’, the reply when the film reaches the correct velocity.‘And action’ yelled Paul Weiland into his walkie-talkie.But there wasn’t any action.In fact, there wasn’t much of anything. Just the water-skier being dragged a few yards through the briny, spluttering out mouthfuls of water, and losing his skis in the process.This scene was repeated a couple of times before Paul Weiland became frustrated and sent his first assistant director down to find out what was going wrong.What was going wrong was quite simple. The water skier couldn’t water- ski. In fact, he’d never water-skied before in his life. He had hoped to bluff his way through it and somehow or other get the scene filmed. But, of course, this was foolhardy. In a belated act of wisdom, he chose to throw in the towel. It was either that or drown.We may have been unlucky with our choice of water-skier, but we were extremely fortunate in our choice of focus-puller, Trevor Brooker.Not only was Trevor a dab hand at his job, he happened to be a keen amateur water-skier. So he took over the part.Paul Weiland filmed three perfect passes of our new water-skier, who showed no signs of faltering or, indeed, of drowning, and moved on to the next shot.The film was in the can long before sun down.What these two stories illustrate – apart from the fact that a film shoot is rarely a straightforward endeavour – is that perseverance can take many forms.If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again, was CDP’s ethos.Try again to have a better idea.Try again to think of a better way to film that idea.Never give up. In this case, Paul Smith and I clung to a script for many years before the chance came to use it again.Cheating? Maybe. But why struggle to write something else when you have something good already – something that went on to win a gold award at BTA and flew into the D&AD annual.Save your energy for where it’s needed. For all the other briefs for all the other products you’ve never worked on before.Were he still alive, I like to think that John Webster would agree.

Successful companies rarely take chances.Why would they?Often, it's hard to pinpoint why exactly why things are going well, so they're careful not to rock the boat.It makes advertising them tricky, because the whole point of advertising is to stand out.To do that you have to be different from the things you are trying to stand out from.But looking different can feel risky.'Why take a risk? Especially now, when everything's going so well?'It's why the companies that produce 'different' advertising are the ones that need to; the ones that have a problem.Maybe it's their last throw of the dice, so they need to win big.Take Apple, they've done a lot of great stuff over the years, but my favourite campaign is probably 'Think different'.In retrospect, it looks like it looks like an easy campaign for Steve Jobs to buy, because we all know how successful it was.But the work was very unusual at the time.

a) It told you NOTHING about the products they needed to sell to survive.b) It didn't show products.c) It featured a bunch of old dead people.d) 'Think different' was ungrammatical.e) They used old-fashioned looking black and white stock-shots and archival film to represent a state of the art product.Steve Jobs made a big call, which proved to be the right one.John Hegarty once told me 'truly breakthrough creative work never wins awards, it splits juries, people don't know what to make of it.'So true, Ironically, I was on the One Show jury that judged the 'Think different' campaign, we gave it nothing, the discussion was around execution; 'like a mood film', 'Think different sounds ugly', 'Old stock shots' etc.Meetings about creative work with successful companies tend to get bogged down with minutiae; Is that actor too handsome? Should the bottle have more spritzing? Are the room sets too opulent?Companies that are desperate are more focussed; Will people notice it?They're forced to run work that stands out, which means they have to try something different, or think different as Steve Jobs might say.Take 7-Up.In 1920, a chap named Charles Leiper Grigg launched a company to sell a new, fizzy orange drink he called 'Howdy'.

It didn't take off.He had another go in 1929, two weeks before the Wall Street Crash, launching a new drink with health properties; it contained lithium citrate, a mood-stabilising drug.Having learned a valuable product-naming lesson with 'Howdy', he decided he needed a name that gave you a clue as to what you were buying, something descriptive, not some random word like 'Howdy'.Bingo! ‘Bib-Label Lithiated Lemon-Lime soda’.‘Bib label’ because it had a paper bib label.‘Lithiated’ because it contained lithium.‘Lemon-Lime Soda’, because, well, that’s what it was.They hung in there with that cumbersome name for six years,Then they changed it; 7 Up. (Rumoured to be a reference to its seven main ingredients.)

Unfortunately, they start marketing again, coming up with the line ‘Seven natural flavours blended into a savoury, flavoury drink with a real wallop’.Over the next thirty years they produced endless bland campaigns.They bounce from being a stomach settling drink...

...to an 'All-Family Drink'...

...to a 'Fresh Up' drink...

...to a wholesome drink for an 11 month old...

...to a 'Real Thirst Quencher!'...

...to betting the house on it being an ingredient in floats...

...to being the 'Wet & Wild' one.

Even utterly shit puns didn't help them.

Nothing stuck, nothing worked.By the late sixties they were in trouble.In desperation they appointed a new agency; J. Walter Thompson, Chicago.Advertising was now important to them.This wasn't a time for rearranging deck-chairs, they needed to stop the ship sinking.Refreshing, fun, fresh, thirst-quenching, baby-pleasing weren't going to do it.They needed to be different.There's a saying 'if you want a positioning take a position', most people don't, because they worry that people may disagree with that position.But 7 Up had to gamble.It must've irritated the hell out of them that the whole world drank those brown fizzy drinks when they were struggling to find a market for their see-thru fizzy drink.You can imagine the thinking:Why does everyone drink cola?Why are they all such a sheep?Why can't people make their own minds up?Be different?Maybe we're the drink for those people?Individuals, outcasts, hippies, the anti-war, drop-outs, draft-dodgers, the flower-power lot, people who aren't sheep.We AREN'T cola, we're the ANTI-COLA.At the time, outcasts, hippies, the anti-war, drop-outs, flower-power and the like were derided as un-American.So echoing that 'un' was a powerful signal.'Uncola' was born.What a weird, odd-sounding, non-grammatical line. (Like 'Think Different')It was perfect, it totally positioned 7 Up as part of counter-culture and depositioned cola as old-fashioned, conservative and establishment.

Sales double within a year.I'll repeat that because it sounds ridiculous; sales double within a year.With momentum behind them, they decide to evolve the campaign.I presume that the thinking was; if we're going to say we're the opposite of cola, let's feel the opposite too.So rather than producing ads that felt like they've just arrived from Madison Avenue, they wanted to produce 'stuff' that was more like the culture their audience was consuming; anti-establishment, counter-cultural...different.The stuff parents didn't get, or loathed.

Compare the the images above the some of the best ads of the period.

Although they're great ideas, good tone of voice, simple art direction, they just feel so damn corporate by comparison.So 7 Up went full hippy.

Radio.

'Un' was rolled out across everything.

Because the advertising didn't force sales messages down it's audiences throats or patronise it's audience, because it gave them stuff THEY liked, they loved it, so much that they bought it.As posters, badges, albums, t-shirts, jigsaws, beach towels and in many other forms.

Embroidered patches.

T-Shirts.

Postcards.

Beach Towels & Jigsaws.

'Uncola' saved 7 Up.It became part of the culture.Got people to buy their advertising.Ran for 20 years.Entered the dictionary*Maybe there's something to this fringe idea of making stuff that stands out?* ("Nickname for 7-Up, a lemon/ lime flavoured soft drink, given to it for marketing purposes. Meant to remind people that it was not, in fact, cola.")

Not for the first time, a tweet by Richard Shotton got me thinking - 'A rare example of an ad agency advertising themselves well'.(It showed an old Fallon McElligott house ad.)When was the last time I saw an agency advertising itself?I couldn’t think of one. It’s a shame, because as well as helping clients get a sense of an agency, house ads were a great way for people like me to a snapshot of the culture within the agency.For example, I'd come across an ad like this, and although I liked their 'Secret Lemonade Drinker' ad, I'd know, without a shadow of a doubt, it wasn't for me.

Whereas I'd come across an ad like this and think 'I want to be in that gang!'.

So why have they vanished?Could it be that in these austere times it simply feels too reckless to spend part of your recently reduced fee on an ad promoting yourself?Surely not? What would be a more damning indictment of our business than that the companies that make ads don’t value them enough to spend their own money on? Maybe it’s now harder to find your audience?Virtually all the ads here ran in Campaign, pre-internet, it was the only place to discover what happening in the world of advertising. Thursday mornings wouldn't start until it had been read from cover to cover. That’s no longer the case, no publication that has the dominance and influence that Campaign once had.But it must be possible to find our industry? If there’s one thing online is good at it’s targeting small groups.It could be that it’s just too hard to be the agency AND the client.One of the reasons clients hire agencies is their objectivity, if you want an objective view of a particular child don't ask the people who made it.You need a bit of distance to offer opinions like ‘no-one cares about that’, ‘too much information’ or ‘ten product points is nine too many for a 20 ad”.But, is it really harder now to create an ad for your agency today than it was then?Maybe.Agencies used to have a wide range of personalities and philosophies.These generally reflected the people who started them.Generally the people responsible for creating the work, if was said that an agency’s client list would mirror the Creative Partner’s shopping basket. Imagine David Abbott wearing a pair of Levi’s? John Hegarty driving a Volvo Estate?Dave Trott wearing a Patek Philippe or Tim Delaney watching a Toshiba tv?Such clearly defined agency personalities made it easier to draw up appropriate pitch lists, choose agencies and write house ads.But in the last decade, as ad agencies chased the latest shiny new object, world-class communication agencies have willingly turned themselves into third-rate tech companies.In that time, tech has gone from specialised black art that clients were willing to pay a premium for to an everyday commodity that’s bought like bog rolls or tea bags.It's meant agency positionings have convergedBespoke agency positionings like BBH’s ‘We don’t sell. We make you want to buy’ have been replaced across the board with a version of ‘Give us some money and we’ll do what you want’.It’s hard to charge much for that and even harder to write a house ad for.E.g. Here's my house ads.Campbell Doyle Dye.Having had a complicated stop-start beginning, we wanted to thank all those people or companies who'd offered space, investment or good wishes.We wanted to buy them a beer.In retrospect we got too creative, perhaps 'artsy' is a better word.It looks unusual and cool, perhaps people might be intrigued to look into what it's about?Big words saying 'we'd like to buy these people a beer' next to a list, and a date would've been better.

About a year or two later we had another go.We'd done some nice work and wanted to show people.The thing that seemed to connect all the work was that it felt confident, so we wrote a line about confidence and put this rough together.

Then it occurred to me that although all the ads within our ad exuded confidence, the ad they were within, our ad, wasn't confident at all, it did what we talk clients out of week in week out; show every product they made.We needed to take our own advice; Make a relevant point as simply and powerfully as possible.I'd been made aware that each of our clients had grown in the over the last year, true, we only had seven clients at that point, but it still a neat fact.I mocked up this.

It seemed a bit straight, there was no clever writing, no clever visual stuff, but I liked it.Then I worried it was a bit like this ad our friends had run.

It had the same bald, non-clever headline, the same minimal art direction...sod it, let's have another go.Maybe we could give our view on advertising, maybe we could be bold and brave and get people to take in more than an eight word headline?I wrote this.It did a two things most clients would never do; print nothing on a full page you've paid for and it didn't feature a logo. Is that brave or foolish?

It won a couple of awards and lead to a couple of conversations with a tractor importer in Norwich.(I found another one I was working on that we didn't end up running.)

In retrospect I should've coloured in the 'Sold more' headline in blue and run that.What an idiot!It's the most relevant to someone looking for an agency.Dye Holloway Murray.In 2009, we managed to bludgeon our way onto the Volkswagen Commercial Vehicles pitch, it was 6 months into the global financial crisis, Volkswagen Commercial Vehicles were dearer than most of the competition and Volkswagen had spent decades building up an honest, totally non-bullshitting tone of voice.I figured we needed to talk business with businessmen, explain why it's worth paying more for a Volkswagen than a Vauxhall or Renault.To cut a long story short, I ended up working with David Abbott on the pitch. (The long story is here: https://davedye.com/2013/11/29/abbo/)Whilst at lunch with David one day, probably whining about a lack of new business, David said 'you need some positional ads, when we started we ran an ad that said "Watch out Colletts, we're only £34million behind you." We did it because we liked Colletts, we wanted to think we were like them...a smaller version of Colletts. You need to align yourselves with the agencies you admire, so that people know that you're a creative agency like them.'The idea made me feel a bit uncomfortable.'We've run a lot of ads, I can trace a new piece of business to every ad' he told me.Sod it! I found David's ad.

How do I copy that without copying it?For a start, we don't want to appear in it, that just seems weird.Ok, so no picture.We seemed to be getting premium business, Vertu, The Macallan, The Economist, so I thought it should look premium, stylish, but fun premium, not all black and serious.So I picked a stylish font and picked words out in different colours.But what do we say? I made a list of agencies I admired; Mother, Wieden Kennedy and Fallon.I didn't want to copy, but even the sentiment 'Watch out Mother, we're only £200m behind you', it sounded so cheesy... and ludicrous.Perhaps if we were self-deprecating?Maybe we should pick out good things about them and say we don't have that problem;a) Fallon - tons of accounts.b) Mother - Multi-cultural.c) Wieden's - based in uber-cool Shoreditch.That seems like a more contemporary, tongue-in-cheek way of doing that 'Collets' ad.We ran these three.

Nothing.Nada.Zip.Not even a call from an East Anglian tractor importer.The only response was this good-natured blog post from Wieden's.

Here's how others agencies did it.Some great, like the DDB ads below, (the 'Account Man' one was written by David Abbott), some less great, like the Allen Brady Marsh ads way below.DDB.

Abbott Mead Vickers.

Gold Greenlees Trott.

Hedger Mitchell Stark.

Deighton & Mullen.

Leagas Delaney.

Davis Wilkins.

Fallon McElligott.

BBDO.

BBH.

Ogilvy & Mather.

Davidson Pearce.

Maxwell Sackheim.

Wight Collins Rutherford Scott Matthews Marcantonio.

Geer Dubois.

McCann-Erickson.

Love this one, presumably the idea is to say 'We're creative too! Honest!'.So they do the least creative ad known to man.

Richard Cope & Partners.

Saatchi & Saatchi.

Scali, McCabe, Sloves.

DMB&B.

Elgie Stewart Smith.

Allen Brady Marsh.

Ford & Westbrook.

Lintas.

Ball Partnership.

Chiat/Day.

Crispin Porter.

Papert Koenig Lois.

Lawler Ballard.

KMP.

The & Partnership.

Y&R.

Leo Burnett.

Campbell Ewald.

J. Walter Thompson.