Every parent's worst fear – having an art director

I almost spilt my extra-milky ultra-weak Earl Grey this morning as I saw Baby RMWLC, focussing hard as she tried to walk, pulling an ‘art director’s face’.

You know the one I mean. That endearing one when they’re focusing every last brain cell on the task at hand (colouring in without going over the lines) and they stick their tongue out of the corner of their mouth and narrow their eyes in concentration. Yes, that face.

I couldn’t believe it. A child of mine an art director?! Talk about a cruel twist of fate.

Thankfully, a few soothing words from Mrs RMWLC coaxed me out of my despair.

She explained that behaving like an art director is a developmental stage that all children go through at around 12-18 months.

In fact, as a child matures they at one time or another possess the mental capacity of all agency types. It goes roughly like this:

Art director (12-18 months). Responds to simple instructions. Babbles 2 or 3 words repeatedly. Demands constant mothering.

Studio (18-24 months). Can put on shoes.

Account Director (2-4 years). Joins 2-3 words in sentences. Feeds self with spoon. Can count to twenty.

Account Exec (5-8 years). Speaks in sentences. Constantly asks questions.

Creative Director (8-12 years). Knows right from left (in most instances). Fluent with few infantile substitutions in speech.

Planner (teens). Awkward in social settings. Worry about being ‘normal’.

Copywriter (20+). Full cognitive development.

Pretty enlightening, huh?

You may be surprised at how developmentally advanced planners are supposed to be, but they do tend to be pretty smart. The point is they actually choose to say those things.

I'm just hoping Baby RMWLC grows out of this art director stage quickly – it's a bit much having to wipe away someone else's drool all day. Then come home and have to do the same.

By the way, if anyone has an Account Director that they've successfully potty trained, please do leave any tips in the comments section.

The tickets are now DIAMONDS

Nicked from The Denver Egotist

You weren’t there man

Yesterday, as I donned my muffler and balaclava to brave the trip home, a colleague joked that I looked like a soldier in the SAS.

He wouldn’t have been laughing if he knew the dark truth.

I've seen things that would make your irises pale in horror. Ooh the stories I could tell if I wanted (but I don’t talk about it because I'm the strong silent type).

Although my days in the special forces are now far behind me, it got me thinking about the similarities between my former and current profession.

Sure, I did some terrible things for Queen and country. I murdered men with my bare hands. And killed a wild pig by jumping out of a tree and stabbing it with a spear whilst wearing a bandana. A bit like this.


But that’s nothing compared to the things I’ve done since.

Unspeakable acts that haunt me.

I guess we've all done jobs in the past we're not proud of. But I just can't seem to get them out of my head.

Often I wake in the night screaming “Only 34.9%APR” or “Head along to our showroom now for your last chance to get low low prices!!!!”

Mrs RMWLC is understandably worried about me. She’s tried to get me to talk about it but how could she understand? I never want her to know about the things I've done to keep a roof over our head.

Occasionally I still see some of my old comrades. Copywriters who did some jobs with me back in the day. Men with dead eyes. Men with consciences so seared, they’d write a leaflet selling North Korean arms to the Myanmar government in UV ink on heavily bleached un-recycled paper as soon as look at you.

We nod silently at one another. A nod that says ‘Ooh the stories we could tell if we wanted (but we don’t talk about it because we’re the strong silent type).”

Sometimes I kid myself there might be some redemption for me. That maybe if I could write enough ads for lost puppies or endangered monkeys I might atone for all the wrong I’ve done. But I know it’s pure fantasy.

I should go back to killing. At least I was fairly good at that.

Irishman urinated on French bread in protest at Henry handball, court told

A true story from the superb newsfromireland.com

BY KEVIN BRADY

(ROSCOMMON, IRELAND) A drunken unemployed plasterer who was found urinating on the French loaves section of a large supermarket in protest at the infamous handball incident in the France vs Ireland World Cup qualifier, was this week given a suspended sentence, fined and bound over to keep the peace.

Frances “Smokie” Larkin, The Meadows, Killareagh, Co Roscommon pleaded guilty to the incident at Maher’s ValueStore supermarket, Killareagh, one week after the match which Ireland controversially drew after the French goal was deemed to have scored despite a blatant handball by French striker Thierry Henry.

Gardai Anthony Flanagan told the court that he had been called to the store at 11.15 on the morning of November 25.

“When I reached the shop, I was informed that Mr Larkin was causing a disturbance in the bread section and when I got there, he was urinating on the French bread section and stamping on a loaf. I later ascertained that the loaves were brioches, a sort of French bread.

“When he saw me, he tried to run away but I apprehended him and grabbed him by the arm. He said ‘that’s for Thierry Henry, guard. If you have any pride in your country, you’ll let me go.

“Then he said ‘that’ll teach them, the cheating French bastards.’”

I love the way the Gardai later ascertained that the loaves were brioches.

If there are any French readers out there, please could you confirm whether or not this did indeed 'teach you'?

My mention in Campaign – one week on

Now the media furore has died down, the dust has settled and I’ve stopped talking loudly about myself, I thought it’d be worth picking over the remains of my big moment and see what we’ve learned.

On the whole, I can honestly say that being in Best of the Blogs hasn’t changed me.

In fact, the only really tangible difference you could point to would be the small addition to my morning get-pumped-up-for-the-day routine.

It still consists of the customary striding around my bathroom in just my pants slapping myself repeatedly whilst singing along to Craig David's seminal album, Born to do it.

But since my 'moment' I now allow myself a five-minute victory dance, where I hold last week’s Campaign aloft whilst vigorously fist-pumping into the mirror shouting “You da man!”

You may wonder why I'm making such a big fuss about all this.

After all, Campaign’s mention didn’t exactly overwhelm this site with new readers. In fact I reckon I could have got the same bump in readership stats by whispering the URL at a crowded bus stop.

I have, however, noticed a real difference in the way my colleagues regard me. Just take a look at my Victim-of-bullying-incidents stats.





Now it's fair to say that there's been no marked change in the number of Chinese burns and bogflushes since last week.

But just look at the way nipple tweaks plummeted. That’s a drop of 40% (although admittedly, much of this could be attributed to Steve ‘Clamp hands’ Aldridge being away pitching most of the week).

And of course, what these graphs don’t tell you is the non-bullying stats. The number of Cursory Nods Received from Colleagues rocketed up from 1 to 3!

So to sum up, you could say I’m something of a bigshot at Partners now. But I'm not going to let this new-found popularity go to my head. Instead I shall knuckle down and keep working hard (on the blog I mean). So the real beneficiary of my moment of fame is actually you.

And if that doesn't make you whoop and fist pump for a good few minutes on a Friday afternoon then there's clearly something wrong with you.

The secret to a successful relationship

I’ve commented on the bizarre nature of copywriter-art director relationships in the past here and here. And here.

So rather than come up with any fresh ideas, I thought I’d just rehash that old gag again.

This week we look at how to foster a healthy long-term relationship.

Most copywriter-art director relationships operate like a loveless marriage – poor communication, constantly looking for ways to undermine and humiliate the other, and a practically non-existent sex life.

There are however a few exceptions to the rule. Beautiful, loving relationships where each values and encourages the other and they both flourish in a beautiful garden of burgeoning creativity.

After a couple of painful break-ups I’ve been wondering what these couples have that we don’t? So I conducted a little research into these unnaturally amicable and productive relationships. The results were very revealing.

Almost 100% of teams surveyed chose to look at one another.


As you can see here, I always place my computer monitor in the centre of the desk, directly blocking my view of my AD. I figure that this way I’m not distracted from work. What’s more, I only have to look at the annoying top of his stupid ugly head.

But in every case of happy relationships, teams actually prefer to move their monitors to one side so they can see one another!

Take for example Jon and Rich here.


They’ve been working together since they met at Watford College back in 1938 and are as in love today as when they first met. Look at the eye contact there. It’s beautiful.

One team here at Partners even goes a step further and lunches together every Friday. Like a sweet old couple going out on date night.

I find this kind of behaviour baffling. I want to say “But what about when he does that thing when he sniffs his marker and stares into the middle distance instead of thinking of ideas? Or what about when he nods at a line you give him, then actually writes only about 80% of the words you said plus a couple of his own swapped in, all of them misspelt?”

The only logical answer is that in these functional relationships, the art director is simply not too annoying.

So, to conclude. If you want a healthy long term relationship, you have to find a not-too-annoying art director. And those, dear reader, are rarer than rocking horse doo-doo.

How to get a creative to do their job (the Ronan Keating way)

As we all know, persuading a creative to put bullet point to marker pad can involve all manner of cajoling and badgering. And frankly, saying things like “But isn’t this what you’re paid for?” just won’t cut it.

So as a gesture of goodwill towards all the suits I’ve made fun of on this blog, I’m giving you my TOP SECRET-super-classified-insider-tips on How to get a creative to do their job.

May I suggest you adopt what I’ve dubbed 'The Ronan Keating approach to account management'?

Now, the Boyzone star and Women's Institute pin-up may have the least sincere smile in pop and a voice so middle of the road it makes cat's eyes jealous. But beneath those twinkly Oirish eyes lurks a mind of fiendish cunning.

Quite simply, it’s all in how he phrases it.

He wrote the following about his wife: “You say it best when you say nothing at all”.

Think about it. He doesn’t say, “Shut up, I’m trying to watch the telly”.

Instead, he comes up with, “You say it best when you say nothing at all”. It's genius. The guy's an utter genius.

Now. Let’s apply that to what suits do.

You’re briefing something in. You want the team to put in that extra 10% (so that’s 12% then). What do you do?

Here are my top tips:

· Tell them how brilliant they are.

· Tell them another team couldn’t crack it, so you’re coming to them because they’ve got a reputation for always coming up with the goods.

· Tell them there’s a massive budget on it and it’s a really exciting opportunity – but could they also do some low-budget solutions, just to show a ‘range of ideas’?

· Give the job an exciting name like ‘Project breakthrough’ or ‘Awards job’.

These are almost guaranteed to give you the desired effect.

If, however, none of the above work, and you feel the situation warrants it, you can go for The slightly scary brooding Ronan approach.

This is where you THREATEN TO GET THE PLANNER TO COME AND PROVIDE A BIT MORE BACKGROUND.

The prospect of a couple of hours of 'insights' and 'brand essences' will, I promise, put the wind up any creative. Just watch them scuttle back to their desk more anxious to please than, well, a suit.

Ronan and I look forward to hearing how these tips have boosted productivity in YOUR creative department.

I am one today

I’d like to thank everyone that’s nurtured me through my first year of blogging.

Thank you goatee man at only dead fish, whose post on why you should blog fertilised the egg of my blogging ambition.

To Scamp, who delivered me, kicking and screaming, from the warm uterus of anonymity into the cold glare of a faintly interested readership.

To adlandsuit, grahamcreative and the many other blogging brothers and sisters who run around the garden of bloggoland with me, arguing about who is best and weeing in the sandpit of one another’s comments section. I owe you all a Chinese burn.

And most of all to you, the weirdo who lurks by the swings reading this. For the short-lived and pitiable gratification I get every time you boost my traffic stats.

I love you all XXX

Review of 2009

Real Men Write Long Copy has never been one to lazily spout out a few half-baked thoughts on a topic two weeks after everything that could possibly be said about it has been said.

But I know you’re all hankering after my carefully considered opinion and insights on the decade’s most self-absorbed year. So here goes.

Best ad

The Facebook Whopper Sacrifice thing.

Best sandwich

Rare roast beef with melted cheese from Make Mine.

Best place to hide from having to do work

Disabled toilet/shower on the ground floor. Warm, roomy and with a lock on the door, you can comfortably spend all day in there safe from the clutches of Traffic.

Best moment of the year

Just now when Carole came round with mince pies and I made a nice cup of tea.

Best waste of time

Choosing between blogging and tweeting for this award is possibly the hardest decision of all. But I’m going to go with blogging, just for the spectacularly pathetic way I hit refresh every three minutes hoping someone’s left a comment, even when I haven’t posted anything for a week. Then, on the rare occasions someone does comment, my euphoria is immediately punctured when I see it’s only another one from snoxishere.

Best moody Campaign shot

It's been another storming year, with so many strong contenders. But this guy’s got it all: the steely gaze into the middle distance, the chiselled jaw and, just to send him over the edge, a fantastic name: Ringan Ledwidge. Mind you, I s’pose you can get away with a pose like this when you’re really good.

And with that whimper, I’m signing off for 2009. See you all in 2010 for more of the same. Or possibly even something good.

x

Will they never learn?

“Hey guys, I’ve got a great idea for the agency Christmas card!”



The guy doing pelvic thrusts while standing on his chair at 2:10 is a probably the low point, although it seems churlish to try to pinpoint one.

I'm embedding this but I know it'll be disabled within hours when common sense invades one of their tiny minds.

Away in a manger (that's manger as in the French for 'to eat', see?)

Sorry I haven’t posted much lately. My stupid colleagues keep winning new business. I don’t mean that in a look-at-us-we-keep-winning-new-business way. It’s not me that’s won it, it’s them. Stupid colleagues.

In the nanoseconds snatched between working with our noses to the grindstone whilst keeping our heads above water yet below the parapet and buried under an avalanche of work, we’ve begun to put together this nativity scene.

Now those of you who know me will know I’m a big fan of Jesus and genuine a God botherer.

“So why the heresy?” I hear you cry.

Well, not only is the baby Jesus not there, but in the place of his manger is a plaster cast of Mrs Realmenwritelongcopy’s teeth.

It is a biting comment (HONK!) on the commercialisation of Christmas.

I’m well pleased with the golden rabbit as the angel Gabriel and the donkey as the, er, donkey. But I’ve not decided yet whether the dudes on the left are wise men or shepherds.

I’ve still got some spaces to fill as we’re running out of stupid crap that creatives keep around their desk. So please feel free to send in any additions.

Holding the scalpel are 110 politicians who are spending too long having lunch

Last weekend Mrs, mini and myself went along to The Wave, the biggest climate change protest EVER.

It was baby RMWLC's first protest. (It turns out that taking a little 'un to an event where you're hemmed in by thousands of people and trying to push a buggy isn't as good an idea as it sounds. There wasn't too much peace and love among the beardies by the end of it I can tell you.)

Today I happened upon this rather good blog-for-the-week by Andy Cato from Groove Armada (they're a rock band I think). He writes very well and scarily about the summit in Copenhagen, I liked his tailpiece:

So humanity is on the operating table in Copenhagen, with 13 days left to save it. On one side of the operating theatre there are all the worlds’ experts, united in their call that to save the patient requires decisive, immediate action.

On the other side, there are the Saudis, the Dubai delegation, Niger, the new Canadian Oil Barons and Fox News urging us that we’re fine, we haven’t got much of a temperature yet so we should go out and enjoy ourselves. And here’s a pack of cigarettes on us.

Holding the scalpel are 110 politicians who are spending too long having lunch.

Watch this space.

How to be creative

There are lots of ways to kill time at work, from making a collage of cuttings from the lingerie section of the BHS catalogue, to doing actual work.

Whatever you get up to, it’s important you’re doing everything you can to nurture your own creativity.

Some do this by taking a walk, or reading award annuals, which is all a bit desperate. If you can't even get inspired in an original way, what hope do you have of having an original idea?

So, to help you all be more successful, I've compiled my top 5 ways to foster creativity at work:

1. Strip down to your vest and run up and down the stairwell pretending you’re John McClane in Die Hard. (The last thing Realmenwritelongcopy wants is to be a hero. But he doesn't have a choice.)

2. Read Campaign. It’s so dull, it’ll make you want to make a paper cut clean through your own jugular. Which is a pretty creative way to end yourself.

3. Challenge everyone in the agency to an arm wrestle.

4. Spend time around creative people. It’s unlikely that their creativity will rub off on you. But they might have a good idea you can steal.

5. Strip off in the toilet and spend several minutes gaping at your own nakedness in the full-length mirror. I for one find this an extremely inspiring sight. For an added rush, leave the door unlocked.

Hopefully these tips will help you become more creative. Why not give them a go? Then share in the comments how I’ve helped you produce groundbreaking, award-winning creative.

My special friend

As the regular readers of this blog will know (or would-be regular readers if I still regularly wrote), I have a special friend.

We began blogging around the same time and have developed a ‘special relationship’. A relationship built on mutual respect and admiration that has at times bordered on the homoerotic.

His name is Adland Suit.


Now everyone knows that account men spend all their time gadding about in tight trousers and pointy shoes talking loudly about how marvellous they are.

So it comes as a massive shock to see one doing something worthwhile.

He’s decided to give up his anonymity. And, worried that unveiling his true identity will be a crushing disappointment (and rightly so, I know who he is and he really is eye-wateringly dull) he’s decided to at least make some money for a good cause from it.

So here’s the plan. We all donate a couple of quid to Marie Curie and in exchange he’ll reveal himself. And buy us a beer. Plus, the biggest donator gets taken out for lunch (charged to one of his clients).

So come on people of adland, don’t delay, donate today!!!!!!

Chowder sales are up

Now this is clever.

Ivar’s Seafood Restaurant in Seattle released a story about how its founder anchored billboards in the Sound back in the 1950s, in anticipation of people one day travelling by submarine and seeing their ads.

They then announced they were going to haul up the billboards (cue PR madness).


I guess the moral is, it’s okay to play a hoax on folks. Just make sue it's as clever as this. Apparently, chowder sales have quadrupled.

(I actually had this same idea, but with ads being written on balloons and released into the sky because people would one day travel by plane. I can see how maybe billboards underwater does work a bit better though.)

Found this story on The Denver Egotist.

Creative cleansing

Is it just me or is anyone else finding it increasingly difficult to get work through?

Presumably this is a result of the recession and clients being more cautious with their budget. Whatever it is, I’m finding I have to do increasingly demeaning and sordid things to sell stuff in.

It’s got so bad now that Mrs RMWLC always knows when I’m presenting work because I’ll leave the house in tight shorts and a low-cut top.

Which is fine except I’m beginning to wonder how much further I can go. Even as I type this I’m sat at my desk in nothing but a negligee and it’s well draughty I can tell you.

But those I present to are constantly baying for more, licking their lips then dropping pens on the floor and demanding I slowly pick them up going “oooh ahhh”.

So what’s the answer?

The more I think about it, the more I believe that this is a time when our industry needs a new breed of creative. One that is less focussed on the work and more focussed on pointing at it seductively and pouting.

You can see things are already going that way. Junior creatives today are at least 10% better looking than their counterparts from a couple of years ago. And students now are generally expected to include a few glamour shots in their books. Otherwise, how does the CD know what you’re capable of?

But is there an ugly side to the beautiful creative department?

Of course we're told there’s still a place for the old-fashioned ugly, talented creative in the modern agency. What they don't mention is that that place is generally dark and windowless.

Here at Partners, we use the bike storage facility. Briefs are simply slipped under the door and scamps are passed back a few hours later. Then, the more aesthetically-pleasing creatives can present the work and our creative Quasimodos can do their job without scaring clients or small children.

But I can't help worrying there's a price to all this. Once I lose my youthful good looks and my firm thighs have begun to sag, will I also be cast into the darkness? Anyone?

If you like laughing at humour, you'll love this

I like having fun and laughing at humorous things. Maybe you do too?

Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis from Between Two Ferns

I found this on Think Chimp which is also humorous.

Don’t flatter yourselves, Mortimer Street girls

Actually I was just looking out of the window because I was thinking and you happened to be in front of my eyes when I was staring.

Anyway I can still see you. Especially you on the right. I call you Phoebe because you're the fun, kooky one (like in Friends, gettit?)

How to get your brother in trouble

I came up with this little trick after one too many dead arms.

Whenever my brother did something to upset me, I figured out a way to make sure any punishment meted out by mum could be magnified tenfold.

Instead of running to mummy, I would actually HIDE my pain from her. (I know, it’s a little counter-intuitive but stay with me.)

I would go to the end of the garden and weep at the grave of Betty the hamster. (Betty my soul mate. Betty, the only one who ever really understood me. Betty who was snatched from me so young WHY?????)

I lurked at her graveside, knowing only too well that mum would see her little Davi-dums in distress and come to find out who had upset her special boy.

A little “Oh it’s nothing really” or “I’m sure he didn’t mean it” was all it took for mum to not only open an enormous can of whoopass, but shake the can violently beforehand.

Now I’m not saying I owe my brother anything.

But I would like to point you to these rather nice pictures he’s done on his iPhone.

Here are a couple of my favourites. See his new blog here. (I'll take 15% on any commissions, thank you.)

Where this industry went wrong

Yesterday, because I had an awful lot of words to write, I decided to leave my glasses at home. As a result, I spent the day squinting at my computer screen as if it were the actual sun.

Oh how I yearned for yesteryear. You see there was a time, a happier time, when hacks like myself would simply handwrite their chosen clichés for that day and give their scribblings to a secretary who would then type it up.

Which made me wonder, whatever happened to these typing angels? Were they all made redundant with the advent of the personal computer?

Well, a little research was very revealing. What in fact happened was, once their typing skills were no longer needed, these secretaries were increasingly asked to draw up the writer’s ideas.

Over the years, this role slowly evolved into what’s known today as Art Director.

‘So how did we end up with the shower of prima donnas and halfwits we have today?’ I hear you cry.

Well, as the first generation of secretaries retired, new art directors were recruited from art school under the misguided assumption they’d be better at drawing.

This had many drawbacks. Not only did this new crop bring with them massive egos and mediocre drawing skills, they also lacked the basic skills required to do their job – namely, making tea and answering the phone.

Which goes a long way to explaining the current malaise in the London ad industry. Whereas in other countries, industry institutions have addressed the issue and retrained art directors to make decent tea, D&AD has persisted with these ridiculous ‘art director workshops’ on typography or whatever.

As if that matters! Art direction really isn’t that complicated. Just get the photographer to take a nice picture then stick the headline in massive in a nice readable font like Times New Roman or Arial. Done.

Now go and make the tea and get it RIGHT this time.