I call bullsh%&t

True, it’s not an uncommon occurrence, but this time I’m going public.

It all started innocently enough: An email arrived from SocialMedian, a service that claims to offer news, filtered by your network. And there, under the heading Marketing, was a piece that someone had clipped called ‘Find your voice.’

Normally I’d dismiss such a trite, overused term as another turd in the sea of crap marketing advice, but this was different. The source, was ‘Seth’s blog.’

For those who may not be aware, the term ‘Seth,’ in marketing circles, means Seth Godin. No, really. He’s like Cher, but bald—famously bald, in fact. It’s his trademark, don’tcha know? He’s also an author/blogger/speaker and, in the eyes of many, an all-seeing oracle on things marketing and new media related.

I’ve read a couple of Seth’s books and heard him speak, but the truth is I’ve always been a little dubious of him and, for that matter, others of his ilk. And by that I mean folks who make their primary living telling other people what to do. Whether the subject matter is social media, real estate foreclosure or Dianetics, I just find it difficult to really get behind someone who’s preaching and not doing.

I clicked through to the post anyway. (Warning: The sheer genius of what you are about to read may cause rectal bleeding.)

Find Your voice

Marketing (in all its forms) is unlike everything else an organization does, because it’s always different. There’s no manual because everyone does it differently, and what successful marketers have in common is that they are successful.

The only way your organization is going to make an impact is to market in the way only you can. Not by following some expert’s rules or following the herd, but by doing it in the way that works. For you. Don’t worry about someone else’s invented standards for new media, invent your own. Avoid obvious mistakes, don’t follow obvious successes.

Find your voice, don’t copy someone else’s.

Wow. Still with me, or did you blackout somewhere around ‘what successful marketers have in common is that they are successful?’

Yup, you guessed it: Here’s where the calling bullsh%&t comes in. Because Seth’s blog doesn’t allow comments (which, BTW, sort of defeats the point of social/new media),  I left a quick riposte on SocialMedian, but then I thought about it some more…

This is a joke, right?

‘…market the only way you can’? WTF is that, some self-help bs he got from an EST seminar in 1978?

And I love ‘avoid obvious mistakes.’ Really Seth? Think that’s a good idea? ‘Cause I was just about to infect myself with the h1n1 virus right after I invested all my savings with what remains of the Madoff clan!

The height of irony—or is it hubris?—is the part where Seth cautions that your organization isn’t going to find marketing success ‘by following some expert’s rules…’ Weird, because from what I can tell Mr. Godin makes a nice chunk of change serving as just such an expert. Go figure.

Look, I appreciate that the guy is about as prolific as they come, writing, speaking and consulting like a Jack Russell terrier who got into his master’s meth stash. And it must be damn hard work coming up with new and interesting things to say as often as must be required by the machine that is Seth, Inc. But, with apologies to all you Godin sycophants out there (and it’s true I count many of you as friends), I have to say that with this little bit of profundity the guy has officially jumped the shark.

You know, it’s kind of like what your Mom used to say: If you don’t have anything even moderately worthwhile to say, don’t say anything at all. (I said ‘kind of’ like…)

That’s it for now. But stay tuned, I’ll call again.

Update: re-posted on Fatt Lipp by our good buddy John Fatteross

It's a new dawn, it's a new day…

…And I’m feeling good.

Like the man says

Like the man says

Okay, so I’m no Adam Lambert. (Though it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been likened to a ‘flamboyant’ personality.)

I am, however, extremely excited to announce that Keith Hensel, founder of Designhensels, is joining Gabardine as Principal, Design Director.

Keith’s as comfortable and accomplished in print design as he is in the interactive space. Check out his bio to learn more, or view some of the amazing work he’s done for the likes of GE, Reuters (Thomson Reuters), Walden Media and Maidenform.

In his new role, Keith will oversee all aspects of design for Gabardine, leveraging over 15 years of experience in concept development, art direction, user-centered design, illustration, photography and production. He’s already brought his considerable skills to bear for Gabardine—have you checked out our updated identity?—and will no doubt do the same for our clients.

Equally important, however, is the fact that Keith’s a pretty incredible person. He’s volunteered in Ecuador, South Africa and post-Katrina New Orleans, building homes and shelter for people in need. He chisels stone sculpture in his spare time. He can eat 5 plates of Indian buffet faster than you can say ‘mulligatawny.’ And for more than 10 years now, I’ve been proud to be his friend.

It really is a new start for Gabardine, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Please join me in welcoming Keith, an integral part of how Gabardine will create Continuous Threads that strengthen and expand the fabric of our clients’ brands.

Whither the concept?

With all due respect (now I can pretty much say whatever I want, right?) to the advertising and marketing folks who are constantly tripping over themselves to find the next new thing, it’s time to take stock of what really works out there in the marketplace. And by ‘works’ I don’t mean gets some press, a few name-checks on blogs and a brief, one-time sales lift. I mean real, honest-to-goodness brand building that changes the way consumers relate to what you’re selling.

What started me on this latest jag was actually a stunt created by Glow, a BBDO agency in Germany, on behalf of their client, the moderately racy underwear brand Blush Dessous.

New Blush window-wear

New Blush window-wear

Call it ambient marketing. Or interactive display advertising. Or dream up some new label that makes you seem smart; like you’ve discovered a whole new category of communications. Regardless, the genius is in the idea; the sassy, inviting, a little bit risque idea that, coincidentally, is everything, it seems, that the brand wants to be.

Another great example (while I’m exploring my feminine side) is Leo Burnett’s campaign for Tampax featuring Mother Nature and her monthly ‘gift.’

The ads aren’t for everyone, but you’ve got to give it to the people who had the courage to take a bold new step in this anachronistic ad category. They came up with a whole new way to make the marketing relevant and, in so doing, managed to break down a few language barriers, as well. Only a great concept can do that.

In contrast, we have Burger King’s Whopper® Sacrifice.

Sacrificial campaign

Sacrificial campaign

Now I’m sure criticizing this year’s most talked-about commercial Facebook app is going to draw some ire, but I’m sorry: It just doesn’t pass the sniff test. BK’s ‘concept’ was to insinuate the brand into social networks with the promise of a free Whopper® in exchange for un-friending 10 people. And after pulling the promotion over a disagreement with FB, they were able to claim that 23,000 meat-like sandwich products were given away for free. Now I’m all for sampling, but that’s ridiculous. The promotion most likely didn’t help BK acquire any new customers. It didn’t inspire loyalty. And it sure as hell didn’t win them any fans among those people who were summarily doinked by their erstwhile ‘friends.’ What it did was prove that a huge brand and an otherwise incredibly talented agency can join forces to create a meaningless Web gimic (when not insulting impoverished villagers in remote parts of the world).

And then there’s Geico’s Kash character: Literally a wad of bills with a pair of dime-store fake eyeballs perched on top. TV spots give this assemblage human qualities and aver that it represents the money you would be saving if you went with Geico. Whatever. And to drive the point home, it was apparently necessary to create a Twitter account for said wad.

Twhat?!

Twhat?!

Please note: This is not an open invitation for social media mavens to offer up the myriad ways in which Twitter can be used as a business tool. It’s simply to say that the concept behind Kash is weak at best. As a result, the advertising executions are worse, and the presence of the character on Twitter simply adds insult to serious advertising injury.

So those last examples offer a couple of cautionary tales. The first is that, in a lot of marketing situations, bad publicity really is bad. Not that we as creative professionals should be cowed or limited by what our critics might say. But we have a responsibility as brand stewards to do right by our clients, and to not put them or their businesses in harm’s way just for the sake of indulging our own interests.

The other is that if the foundational concept is mediocre, then no amount of technical or popular wizardry is going to make the work resonant. I know this sounds remedial, but you’d be surprised by how many people actually believe something like the Burger King and Geico campaigns radiate brilliance and come up with elaborate arguments to convince you of the same.

Or is it to convince themselves?

Feeling around the Web's soft underbelly (ewww!)

Ahhh, the Interwebs. So vast. So expansive. So chock full of knowledge and information and macrame tips. It truly is a wonder to behold. Even better, you can have one of those ‘web sites’ with amazingly little effort: All you need is a domain to call your own. That, my friends, is where the fun starts. (And by ‘fun’, I mean something akin to what the settlers must have experienced buying snake oil from hucksters out the back of covered wagons.)

snake_oil

Our own story of adventure began innocently enough, by naming the company Gabardine. It was, we agreed, pitch-perfect and rich with meaning, i.e. We come up with big ideas and weave them through a company’s marketing communications, like a continuous thread that strengthens and extends the brand fabric.

But, alas, it seemed that gabardine.com was already spoken for. A ‘domainer‘ had parked a nasty contextual ad-serving page there, and according to Internic, there was a legit owner. What was a young company to do?

Being the creative geniuses we are, it only took a couple of weeks to come up with the novel idea of using gabardinestudios.com, instead. ‘Phew,’ we thought, the prospect of coming up with another doozy of a company name weighing heavy on our minds.

And then, well, we just went about growing our business. You know: Taking meetings. Designing stuff. Breaking in the corporate card. Writing stuff. Snorting NoDoze. Killing it.

Still, something seemed…off. Like we weren’t completely legit because our domain didn’t match our company name. Of course, we knew this was completely irrational and that lots of businesses go the Plan B route because it’s either too costly or too much of a hassle to get the domain they really want. (Group favorite: Open.) But that knowledge wasn’t enough to stamp out the burning flame of domain desire.

So we set about investigating what it would take to make gabardine.com our own. We expected the worst. A king’s ransom, perhaps. A first-born male child. The head of Alfredo Garcia. We were way off.

Our first attempts to contact the domain owner directly were less than successful. Actually, that’s the nice way of saying it. In truth we were given the run-around between what seemed for all intents and circumstances like two different shell companies posing as registrars of gabardine.com and, we’re sure, countless other domains. Fed up and, frankly, a little queasy, we decided to bite the bullet and try a more conventional route of paying the folks at sedo.com to track down the real owner and sort the whole mess out.

…we were engaged in a steel-cage deathmatch with an unnamed, unseen dark force that wanted to suck us dry for the privilege of owning a domain…

Here’s how Sedo works: You pay $69 for them to track down the real domain owner and extend an offer that you pretty much pick out of thin air. Ours was $850. That’s right, 850 smackeroos. The thinking was that if a textile magnate with an interest in finely woven fabrics was out there, s/he’d probably be using the domain productively. This certainly didn’t appear to be the case, judging from the cheesy, squatter-like page that was posted, so we figured $850 was a good place to start the bidding.

According to Bill, a ‘domain broker’ at Sedo, we figured wrong. He said they had contacted the owner, who promptly countered with an offer of $7000. The penny, as they say, dropped. We understood instantly that we were engaged in a steel-cage deathmatch with an unnamed, unseen dark force that wanted to suck us dry for the privilege of owning a domain that s/he most likely obtained by going through the dictionary in the hopes of a nice, fat payday. We reluctantly countered by nearly doubling our offer to $1600, and pointed out that negotiations were officially over.

Bill said he was ‘working closely with a colleague on the deal,’ as the owner was in Korea, and translation was an issue. (Great.) We held our collective breath for a few days and then, lo and behold, the textile magnate agreed to our price! But the fun wasn’t over yet. It took almost two weeks, another Sedo representative (Colin, my Transfer Consultant) and—surprise!—a 10% commision for Sedo before we were able to navigate our way out of the rat hole of wire transfers and domain permissions.

In the end, though, we got the domain we wanted without sacrificing an arm or a leg.

And the experience of being exposed to the seedier side of the Web? Priceless.

How Arnell's Pepsi prez really could 'refresh everything'

Just in case you missed it in this week’s news stream (what with all the stories about economic stimulus, Australian wildfires and the C Brown/Ri-Ri bust up (literally)), I wanted to draw your attention to something truly significant: The revelation of a ‘Breathtaking Strategy’ from Arnell Group on behalf of its client, Pepsi.

It is, in every sense, a heartbreaking work of staggering conceit. A primer for creative prima donnas. A masturbatory masterpiece of business rationalization.

I told Pepsi that I wanted to go to Asia, to China and Japan, for a month and tuck myself away and just design it and study it and create it.         – P. Arnell

For those who have yet to uncover the insights hidden within the 27-page tome, let me break it down for you: Arnell traces the historic geometries of Pepsi’s logo (‘perimeter oscillations’), parallels the evolution of the brand mark with the Golden Ratio of proportion as well as the earth’s electro-magnetic fields and, finally, employs attraction theory and statistics about the expansion of the universe—you know, f(x)=ex.
[1 light year = 671 million miles per hour]…I mean, duh!—in order to justify their multi-million dollar fee.

Indeed, as Peter Arnell himself explained to Advertising Age (Jan. 19 issue) “When I did the Pepsi logo, I told Pepsi that I wanted to go to Asia, to China and Japan, for a month and tuck myself away and just design it and study it and create it.” That kind of research—China AND Japan!—doesn’t come cheap.

As you might expect, there’s been quite a bit of hubub about the document, which is widely regarded to have been leaked by an Arnell staffer. Most folks are astounded by the sheer chutzpah of it all. Some are appalled at the convoluted reasoning and pandering tone. Gawker, perhaps predictably, ran a snarky little piece that seemed to strike just the right note.

But what’s going UNsaid is, I think, much more interesting; i.e. that this is exactly what the branding/advertising/marcomms world needs right now. It’s a stark look in the mirror. A reality check that forces us all to re-evaluate the way we package and present our work, lest we come off like a pack of raving douchebags.

Look, everyone on the services side of this business—read: agencies, freelancers, consultants—knows that what we we do is part art, part science; bringing together strategy, design and messaging in unique, compelling ways. And when it’s done right, the results are genuinely extraordinary.

Too often, though, whether it’s to compensate for inferior work or profoundly low self esteem, we allow the focus to shift away from the results and begin to dwell on our own extraordinary genius. We spend more time proving that we’re the smartest people in the room than we do on coming up with solutions that solve business problems. We convince ourselves that effort we put in to the work legitimizes its quality.

With any luck, the mere prospect of ending up in the same hall of shame as did Arnell with this stuff will keep us all a little more honest in the future.

It's my wedding anniversary; hooray for Gabardine!

At lunch recently, a friend and former colleague said ‘You really need to write about your wife.’

And although they’d never actually met my wife, like lots of people who engage me in otherwise innocent conversation, they’d heard stories…

Mostly garden-variety stuff about marrying young, being polar opposites in lots of meaningless ways and how I could never cheat because, as my best friend, she’d be the first person I’d call to tell about the indiscretion.

Then there are the jucier bits I’ve shared with unsuspecting people in casual discussions. Like the fact that my wife’s a former teenage delinquent who surprised everyone—especially and hilariously her mother—by becoming super wife/Mom/volunteer/professional. And, of course, the one about our third child being conceived post-vasectomy. (Always a crowd-pleaser or hair raiser, depending on your point of view.)

I could never cheat because, as my best friend, she’d be the first person I’d call to tell about the indiscretion

But what usually goes unstated is the effect my wife (her name’s Randi, BTW) has had on my professional career. It’s been and continues to be, in a word, profound.

It’s not just the unwavering support and encouragement…the patience of Job when it comes to travel, late nights and weekend assignments…the amazingly engaging small talk with clients and colleagues. That stuff’s par for the marketing-spouse course.

What really makes Randi special is her ability to see me in ways that I can’t even see myself, and then gently, subtly guide me in the right direction. (So gentle and subtle, in fact, that at the time I invariably think that heading in said direction was entirely my idea.)

That’s pretty much what happened with Gabardine. She’d seen enough of what I do to know that it was time to start the agency at which I always wanted to work. And to create something more than ads, sites and brochureware.

She saw Gabardine as my destiny long before it even had a name and, gradually but deliberately, led me straight to it.

So on this, our 16th wedding anniversary, I want to thank her for all that she’s given me: An amazing family, a loving home and a business to call my own.

Campaigning for the return of the campaign

This one goes out to all those who produce great marketing communications. The folks who push for big ideas, reinforce brand attributes and execute to near perfection.

The message is simple: Do more.

In too many instances, these otherwise bright, ambitious marketers stop short of doing what studies show needs to be done to create joined-up brand experiences that influence consumer behavior.

Of course, it’s hard to argue with success, and executions like breakthrough annual reports, incredibly popular desktop widgets or killer Flash applications deserve the credit they receive.

But without follow-up, without continuity, without a larger, integrated plan and the means to implement it, each piece is just that: A stand-alone. A one-hit wonder. A flash in the proverbial pan that burns out as quickly as it sparked up, and is then relegated to the equivalent of a highlights reel. Good for the resume/portfolio, but for the brand? Not so much.

without a larger, integrated plan and the means to implement it, each piece is just a one-hit wonder

What’s needed, instead, are marketing campaigns. Old-school, multi-channel affairs that take an overarching theme and version it appropriately for different customer types in specific media.

Admittedly, tighter budgets and more competition make it more of a challenge to pull off such campaigns, but that’s no reason to avoid them. In fact, there’s a compelling case to be made that smaller investments in ‘mini campaigns’ deliver more bang for the buck and have a greater effect on customer behavior than bigger, one-dimensional initiatives.

The good news is there are more opportunities than ever before to spread your messages around, including social media tools, affiliate programs, product-friendly blogs and more. One of my faves from this past year was from the insurance company Liberty Mutual, whose campaign is based on the notion of responsibility—it’s their ‘policy’ (get it?) to do the right thing, and reward customers who do the same. They got the message across with some nice TV spots, and then carried the theme through to banner ads, real-time surveys that solicited personal stories of responsibility and even a fairly rich blog with some serious digital shorts.

It’s all really good stuff that hangs together well and reinforces the message in a bunch of different ways. All of which suggests that if you still think of marketing as a project-by-project effort, you might want to think again.

(And if you think differently, I’d like to hear about it.)

When did 'social' become synonymous with 'digital?'

On the verge of being snowed in last Friday, I joined in the latest episode of Jaffe Juice in the form of a Talkshoe broadcast—cool!

Joe ran the show (natch), but there were a bunch of seemingly bright folks down the line and taking part in the chat. Certainly, everyone involved seemed to completely grasp and have a strong opinion about the predictions that other experts had made regarding social media in the coming year.

In the midst of listening to these knowledgeable, articulate peeps hold forth, I realized that for all intents and purposes the whole notion of social media had changed to mean interactive social media specifically. And while I’m as fascinated by Facebook Connect as the next guy, I have to wonder what happened to the old forms of social media. You know, the kind where ‘social’ was defined as people physically interacting with other people.

…for as much time as I spend online, and as much value as I place in digital social media, I still value real social media the most.

Just to be clear, I’m no Luddite. My involvement in the digital space dates back to ’98, when I joined the original Modem Media, and continues today, both professionally (in the sites and apps and banners that Gabardine creates) as well as personally (with more ‘friends’ and ‘followers’ and ‘contacts’ than I can possibly maintain real, meaningful relationships with). But for as much time as I spend online, and as much value as I place in digital social media, I still value real social media the most.

You know real social media. It’s what happens when you’re shoveling snow and notice your neighbor—the one who puts Consumer Reports to shame in the way he researches and analyzes major purchases—making short work of his driveway thanks to a brand new snow-blower.

Or when you and the better half decide to head out with friends for dinner at their secret little place. And lo and behold: There you are, enjoying an amazing meal that neither Yelp nor Chowhound played even the slightest part in helping you find.

Of course there’s a huge place for the digital variety of same. And I’ll be the first to admit I’d be pretty much lost without Twitter, Ping, Facebook, LinkedIN, etc. But there are times (and the aforementioned call was one of them) when I wonder if we’re all losing touch with the type of social media that, in the end, matters most; i.e. Face-to-face (or shovel to snow-blower), tangible, offline interactions in which people endorse/support/recommend stuff as they look you in the eye.

Because it’s just too easy to fudge it online. Too common for important details to be left out. Too little back and forth and too much confusion from so many different inputs.

And that’s why, next year—before the first big storm—I’ll start looking for a snow-blower online; but I’ll end up talking one-on-one with the guy next door before I make any decisions.

And you?