One of his high-priority projects is far removed from the spotlight glare of fashion shows: a biannual advertising booklet called Vestiaire passed out in boutiques and placed in some magazines. He sees it as a tool for teaching women how to build a beautiful wardrobe—the word vestiairemeans "wardrobe" in French—from Hermès. "We realized a lot of women were intimidated by Hermès," explains Lemaire. "They wouldn't enter the shop, or they would go to scarves and bags, but they wouldn't really go to the ready-to-wear because they think it's not really for them or that it's too expensive." The booklets focus on everyday sartorial building blocks—a leather blazer, a bathing suit, a chunky ribbed sweater—photographed simply and elegantly, showcasing the best of what he does.
Angela Natividad's insight:
Lemaire's sensitivity and délicatesse enables him to find an ad opportunity where most high-end houses would have missed it: in educating them without condescending to them, helping them construct a style lexicon, building self-esteem in a formidable, often abstract but deeply important subject.
In bucolic Auburndale, an hour south of Disney World, Coke has spent $114 million in recent years expanding its premier U.S. juice bottling plant, which it claims is the world’s largest. It’s here that Coke has perfected a top-secret methodology it calls Black Book to make sure consumers have consistent orange juice 12 months a year, even though the peak growing season lasts about three months. “We basically built a flight simulator for our juice business,” says Doug Bippert, Coke’s vice president of business acceleration.
Behold the ad nerd, a new breed of ad professional who grew up admiring the industry as much for its ability to entertain as to sell. Long before Mad Men unleashed a new era of Madison Avenue retro cool, these millennials were being influenced by campaigns such as Budweiser’s “Wassup?” spots, which became a cultural phenomenon. As kindergarteners, they watched TV for the commercials. In high school, they joined newly formed ad clubs, and many studied advertising in college and graduate programs. They eat, breathe and tweet advertising, possessing the natural 24/7 Web habits of their generation. Addicted? Definitely.
The trend reflects deep generational shifts influencing agencies. In the past, the ad business was seen as a way station for the likes of Andy Warhol and Kurt Vonnegut on their way to more “legitimate” forms of artistic expression. “Once upon a time, advertising was a catch-all place that artists went when they didn’t much care to be starving artists,” explains Patrick Scullin, 55, a managing partner at Ames Scullin O’Haire in Atlanta. “Now they’re in it for the advertising.”
That’s the defining statement for The Hindsight Project, founded by Mat Zucker, Andrea Leminke and David Gaddie. Here you’ll find a series of short videos featuring successful creatives walking ad upstarts though some of the most fruitful lessons worth learn: succeeding on the business side (Barry Wacksman), writing clearly (Nick Parish) and how best to perceive the letters in your title (Ricardo Trejo), among others.
“Curation” does imply something far more deliberate than these inspiration blogs, whose very point is to put the viewer into an aesthetic reverie unencumbered by thought or analysis. These sites are not meant (as curation is) to make us more conscious, but less so. That might be O.K., but it also means they have a lot more in common with advertising than they do with curation. After all, advertising trains us to keep our desire always at the ready, nurturing that feeling that something is missing, then redirecting it toward a tangible product. In the end, all that pent-up yearning needs a place to go, and now it has that place online. But products are no longer the point. The feeling is the point. And now we can create that feeling for ourselves, then pass it around like a photo album of the life we think we were meant to have but don’t, the people we think we should be but aren’t.
In the new Tumblr ‘Depressed Copywriter’, copywriters Chris Sheldon, Mariana Oliveira, Whitney Ruef and Tedd Wood have come together to crudely change headlines of various articles, or taglines of various ads to bluntly expose the stark reality of life.
As long-time readers of Ad Aged know, I love the obituaries that appear in "The New York Times." It's not some morbid fascination with death that makes them interesting, rather it's the lives, loves, wins and losses of the great and small people the Times decides to catalog. Almost invariably there's something interesting, crazy or thought-provoking in Times' obituaries, attributes that make them well-worth the time.
The point of advertising is to make you buy something. Which means you must create a perceived need.
Hey, did you know how you HAVE to buy an engagement diamond? How that has always been the thing, since all of time? Oh, except, no it hasn’t. The whole “diamond engagement ring” thing was made up by DeBeers with the help of an advertising firm in the 1930s. They made up the phrase “A diamond is forever” in 1947. They wanted to sell diamonds, so they made up a need. You HAVE to have a diamond for your engagement! It’s the DONE THING!
Advertisers make up all kinds of needs! You need a bigger/smaller television/computer/phone/car. You need this diet to be thinner. You need this pizza with actual cheeze deposits in the sides. YOU NEED IT. LACK OF IT MEANS FAILURE.
Social media shifted that bias from the organization to the user -- the filter bubble of news chosen by friends, the friends themselves filtered by assumed similarities. But now we must contend with the bias of a false version of ourselves. Yahoo's murder feed exposes the algorithmic process for what it is: personalization without the person.
Seriously, though, Mochon's experiments actually have serious big-picture implications. The world over, companies and managers fall in love with their own ideas — and reject better ideas from the outside because they were not designed in-house.
"If I am sticking to a project and I have been working on it for a year or two, I might think this project really is a good idea," Mochon said. "So while someone external might look at my project and say, 'You know, that's a failed project, I'm not sure you should be spending time on it,' because it is the fruit of my own labor, because of the Ikea Effect, I might think that it is much better than it really is."
Yesterday Digiday published the confession of a former digital leader at a large ad agency. In it, he bemoaned the inability of agencies to get out of their way and why the entire experience led him to conclude it wasn’t even worth a salary approaching a half million dollars per year.
“Wal-Mart was a huge force in teaching Americans that what mattered was price, regardless of quality,” Fishman said. “Wal-Mart didn’t create the disposable society in America, but they reinforced the idea that quality is irrelevant so long as you’re getting a great price.”
I’ve found that even when the article interests me I’ll click away anyway, distracted by an embedded link or video, or by the fool’s gold of some glittering sidebar. I’m not saying that the Internet has entirely robbed me of my ability to concentrate when I need to, but rather that spending hours online every day has had the effect of normalizing a certain kind of fleeting, casual encounter with texts.
I think it’s interesting that they’re going to companies in the technology space. A lot of technology companies have a serious lack of knowledge of the brand and marketing world, so the fact that agency people are entering technology is a good thing. There seems to be a level of distain for brands and marketing within some of these companies, particularly startups, even though their businesses ultimately depend on it. It’s a good sign for agencies too, probably. A lot of people in the startup world look at agencies and think they’re useless human beings. It’s not true, there’s a lot of smart people at agencies and maybe it’ll help address that stigma.
I'd like to propose a new parlor game. Each week when you watch "The Pitch," pick the person who most deserves to get fired. Is it the co-creative director who blatantly upstages his counterpart? The senior executive who decides to confiscate everyone's cell phone? Take your pick. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.
I sense that we are moving finally through the dullest, most boring and de-motivating phase in the history of marketing. A phase when advertising has been continuously derided for being irrelevant and digital was held up as the holy grail.
I'm currently reading The Case for Creativity and there's a full chapter about originality and our industry's obsession with it. Being accused of copycatting is often just as condemning as being outright guilty of the act. But it's a lot easier than we think to have the same idea at the same time as another person; examples proliferate in science, technology art and -- obviously -- in advertising.
Many thinkers have surmised that when it's "time" for something, that idea just appears in the ether, ready and waiting to be claimed by unconnected minds who start thinking in its direction.
We listen to dominatrixes, obsessive compulsives, teddy-bear enthusiasts, drug addicts and nigerian hackers. We seek out these obsessives, maniacs and eccentrics because they can help us get to big, breakthrough ideas. Some of them can show us how mainstream consumers will behave in a few years. Some of them have extreme needs that no product on the market can meet—so they modify them, or make their own. Some of them reject a whole category. You can learn a lot about mobile phones by talking to a power user. You can learn even more by talking to somebody who’s deliberately never bought one.
Sixteen to 34-year-olds in households with incomes of more than $70,000 per year are increasingly choosing not to drive as well, according to the report. They have increased their use of public transit by 100 percent, biking by 122 percent, and walking by 37 percent.
The shift away from the car is part and parcel of a new way of life being embraced by young Americans, which places less emphasis on big cars or big houses as status symbols or life's essentials.
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Creating engaging newsletters with your curated content is really easy.