Having spent the last five days cowering under my desk, I just peeked my head out to find this rather brilliant idea from my former colleagues at Partners Andrews Aldridge.
DeLootLondon shows local businesses affected by the riots, so you can support them by buying whatever remaining stock they've got/managed to lay their hands on.
There's a natty little map with each vendor's story (which I'm sure will look a helluva lot more little red arrows by Monday) and a facebook page and stuff.
Just came across a page of all the ads from The Most Interesting Man In The World campaign and couldn't resist sticking a few up.
More killer lines:
"He's been known to cure narcolepsy just by walking into a room. His organ donation card also lists his beard. He's a lover, not a fighter, but he's also a fighter, so don't get any ideas."
"His charm is so contagious, vaccines have been created for it. If he were to give you directions, you'd never get lost, and you'd arrive at least 5 minutes early."
"His reputation is expanding faster than the universe. He once had an awkward moment, just to see how it feels. He lives vicariously through himself."
Obviously, this is purely fictitious. But if you want to read a post on the subject that isn't, or you just fancy reading a good blog for a change, have a look at one of my all-time favourite posts.
Once you’ve been working for a few years, you can usually feel it coming.
No more flowers in reception. No more chocolate Hobnobs in meetings. The CEO starts drinking Dom Perignon 67 rather than 66.
Any healthy agency has redundancies at least once a year.
As a rule, they only get rid of the good people. As Paul Arden said, "if you've never been sacked, you're probably not very good,"
In ten years I don’t think I’ve even come close to getting the boot.
Although several of my art directors have taken voluntary redundancy.
Of course, once your number’s up, there’s very little you can do about it. Not that that stops people trying.
The first thing you notice is that everyone covers their desk with photos of their children (or, if they don’t have kids, pictures found on Getty) in the hope the decision-makers will take pity on them.
If anything, this works against them, as the people in charge actually like to eat babies. They boil them. I’ve seen it.
Next, THE CRATES arrive. Oh, how we hate the sight of those crates.
Even though the bloke in charge of moving the crates obviously plonks them anywhere, all kinds of speculation grows up around where exactly the crates are placed. Some poor soul is left sweating as a huge stack is left hovering over him like the sword of Damocles.
Once the sword finally does fall, and your colleague’s head has rolled across the office floor and been popped in the bin by the cleaning lady, there follows a season of mourning. A respectable amount of time (usually about an hour) is left before the mourners grab the computer/monitor/window seat of the victims.
Then, after a week or so, the flowers return to reception and you have a sunny period of at least 3-4 months before redundancy hits again.
Now, all my riffing on the pain of others may seem a little heartless. But it’s worth noting that, more often than not, those who get fired end up happier for it.
I was going to stick that video up that was doing the rounds a while back, all about people being sacked going off and doing something more fun. I think it was called Lemonade or something. Anyone got it?
UPDATE! Here it is. The mood's a little enriching and inspiring for this blog but I'll stick it up anyway (thanks @londonskirt).
Let's go de-looting people!
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