I was like. Really?
on Oct 28 in Frivolity, Random, Writing tagged by Peter BlackmanIt’s outrageous. Everyone is outraged. Walk down any busy street in the UK today and you will pass someone on their mobile phone telling an outrageous story to someone. They’ll be recounting some terrible incident or awful argument that they have had recently with a friend / relative / work colleague.
It’ll go something like ‘and I was like’
‘and they were like’
‘and I was like’
Now what strikes me about these Jeremy Kyle style exchanges (when I hear them through physical proximity on the street or in a cafe for example) is how amazingly blunt and confrontational we all seem to be. Or at least, the conversations and interactions as recounted are. Which is odd really. For when I look at the people not on their phones; those sat talking, or walking along together, most of them are enjoying each others company. Whether they are laughing at a joke, or wrapped up in a serious discussion, there is a general air of politeness and equanimity.
But on the phone, in the recounting of these polite encounters, our memories seem to play tricks on us. In his book, ‘Born Liars’, an old work colleague of mine, Ian Leslie describes it as ‘Remembering…is an act of creative reconstruction.’
Here’s an excerpt from a good synopsis of Ian’s book, which is excellent and well worth buying and reading, especially if you work, like I do, in the marketing / advertising business:
“Our attitudes to lying are confused and contradictory - you might even say, self-deceiving. On the one hand we hate lies, and liars. On the other, we all indulge in fibs, tall tales and fantasies. If lying is wrong, why do we all do it - both to others, and to ourselves? In Born Liars, Ian Leslie argues that, far from being a bug in the human software, lying is central to who we are; that we cannot understand ourselves without first understanding the dynamics of deceit. Born Liars takes us on a fascinating journey which makes us question not only our own relationship to the truth, but also virtually every daily encounter we have.”
Not being as thorough and erudite a writer as Ian, I thought I’d just add a little playful comment for a Friday. Which is this - the modern predeliction for prefacing our memories with ‘and I was like / he was like’ Is it, as the Urban Dictionary would define it “Obnoxious people use this phrase after they have recited an anecdote about their petty tribulations. This is to compensate for their complete absence of wit or original insight into anything.”
Or is it also an unconscious linguistic acknowledgement that what they are saying to you is an approximation of what actually happened? Or to take that further, is it a fabrication? A lie? That they know, really, that the real exchange was ‘like’ the tale that they are telling, but isn’t really what happened at all.
And I was like, that’s my view, i’ve put it in a blog post and everything.
And everyone else was like, whatever.
And I was like, you’re really disrespecting me with your indifference.
And they were like, again, whatever.
Whatever.
New office. Old school.
on Oct 11 in Random tagged by Peter BlackmanMy agency colleagues and I have moved into a new office. It is on a cool street in a cool part of the city. It is also above a cool shop. Yes I know people don’t say ‘cool’ anymore - I’m getting to that in a minute. The shop in question is Uncle Sam’s Vintage Clothing. It’s the kind of place where they sell the genuine versions of those Americana slogan T shirts that you all pay so much for at SuperDry, which coincidentally, is just down the street.
I love Uncle Sam’s. It’s a Bristol institution and it’s been around since I was a schoolboy. Which leads neatly on to the issue. Uncle Sam’s now sells records as ‘vintage’ and ‘collectable’ that I bought from music shops on the same street when I were a ‘lad’. Like this one, ‘Licence to Ill’ by the Beastie Boys.
This is not cool, it’s life telling me every day to grow up. Having said that, on the positive side, it also reminds me EVERY WORKING DAY that maybe the hipster jeans were a mistake for a man of my age. That perhaps I shouldn’t take up skateboarding. Or try be funny on a blog or social media. Wait - oh. Arse.
Our survey said
on Oct 05 in Frivolity, Random tagged Lovehoney, PR, surveys, TV by Peter Blackman
On Monday, the creative agency where I lurk moved office. It was a hot, sweaty day of lugging boxes, brightened only by having a reflector sunglassed pensioner crash into the side of the van. How we laughed as he fled the scene, our angry faces mirrored in his eyewear. Later, sat in our newly empty office with my co-shirkers, we reminisced over our time in our nice office in a nasty part of town.
On our first day in the office, over four years ago, we’d been introduced to a director of one of the PR agencies from upstairs in the ‘Media Centre’.
“What do you guys do?” he’d asked, and on being told that it was mainly advertising and design, he’d continued ‘I could get you in the papers. You know, do a piece on the greatest ads of all time. Do a survey, people vote, you get to comment on it.”
“Why would we do that?” I asked.
“Brand exposure” he replied.
“It would make us the laughing stock of our industry” I replied, “and clients don’t give you their business based on surveys.”
To adapt a well known tabloid phrase - we made our excuses and he left. Now I don’t have anything against surveys. I’ve taken part in some. Hell, I was even on a council volunteer group for a year, filling out surveys on dustbins and residents parking schemes. I’m not anti-survey. Honest. In a recent survey (of me) 100% (of me) was not against surveys.
What I am against however, is having been introduced to an individual, that the first thing they try and do is try and take money off me for a pointless, nay, witless piece of survey driven PR. Did I also say that this man who proposed the survey was also suspiciously orange? Never trust someone whose skin is not skin coloured. Unfortunately, the pointless survey has become a constant feature of modern PR and journalism, and no doubt Mr Orange and his colleagues are eating truffles from ivory plates, quaffing vintage wine from solid gold goblets.
In the excellent short book ‘Not Many Dead’ by Nick Parker, there is an entire chapter dedicated to ‘Self Serving Surveys’, such as “Women are at their happiest when they ditch their boyfriends and go out for a drink and a chinwag with girlfriends” said a survey from the makers of Bliss, a new drink aimed at women”. Or ” People nowadays would rather be sacked by video conference than almost any other method’ said a survey carried out by video conference specialist Masergy. In fact what the survey actually revealed was that people would much prefer to be sacked in person. They only preferred a video conference firing to being given the boot by phone or post”
More recently, amidst all the genuine furore over a new daytime TV ad for Lovehoney, the UK’s “most popular online adult store and the best place to discover and buy sex toys, sexy lingerie, condoms, lubricants and gifts” it was amusing to see the dead hand of witless research and survey at work..
The Mail starts off on the usual PR led storyline…“The first TV commercial for a sex toy company has been approved for broadcast during daytime viewing hours. Executives at the firm involved, Lovehoney, have hailed the development as a breakthrough in terms of the nation’s attitude to sex and pleasure.”
But then we get a truly fabulous, nonsensical comparison. A gem of the self serving survey genre….
“A recent study claimed that British and international sales of sex toys are set to match smartphones like the iPhone.”
What’s that got to do with anything? Underpants may match the sales of beef. Moisturiser may have overtaken bleach. And the point of the comparison is? None. No point. I have a smartphone, and I don’t remember in the ‘consideration period’ there being a moment when I thought ‘Hmmm, smartphone or sex toy?’ What’s more, even though I am not a woman (no, really), I would go so far as to say that neither do women. I accept that most smartphones have a vibrate function, but surely there remains a basic incompatibility in terms of shape that means a sex toy or a smartphone is not an either or purchase? No, this is self serving PR guff. It’s a desire to have a piece of acceptable technology mentioned in the same sweaty breath as your clients sex toy.
Now it may be that it was simply the journalist in question who dredged up this piece of nonsense, and that it didn’t originate from some PR agency, but the wider point remains valid - that the self serving pseudo science of the survey (trying saying that fast after a few drinks) is lazy, ill thought through pr and marketing at its very worst. It’s not as if the Lovehoney campaign needed it - it’s newsworthy enough as it is. The film is tastefully shot, and it will be interesting to see if it does provide a boost in sales for the brand. As TV personality and heart throb Nick Knowles commented on twitter - ‘More power to their elbow’ Though he should be careful, a recent survey reported that elbows were the most likely joints to be put out on a social media platform. Or was it noses?