July 9th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

From GMTV to WTF

GMTV
Image via Wikipedia

What does the word Daybreak mean to you? No, it isn’t the final chapter in the Twilight series. (Incidentally, does anyone else think they should change the strapline for that film to ‘One girl’s choice necrophilia and bestiality’?). It’s the new name for the new look GMTV. A fresh, vibrant approach to early morning television fronted by Christine Bleakley and Adrian Chiles.

VOM.

Now I have to confess I was never a fan of GMTV. While TV-am gave us the starchy pleasures of Anne Diamond (before she started looking a bit like Ann Widdecombe) and Wincey Willis, GMTV brought us little more than the  Fiona ‘don’t give your child the MMR vaccine’ Philips, and made stars of Eamonn Holmes, Tony Blair and Dr bleeding Hillary. Yes, Lorraine Kelly has been consistently marvellous. But this  is only for the baffling ‘Instant Glam’ makeovers she runs every Christmas where Sue, 38, a systems analyst from Barking is larded with sparkly eyeshadow and shoehorned into a sequinned batswing blouse.

So perhaps it’s no surprise that ITV, now the sole owner of GMTV after it bought Disney’s stake out last year (I’m assuming they no longer thought there was an animated feature in the Penny Smith story), wanted to refresh the format. After all that set’s been around since Anneka Rice was running around with a mobile phone the size of a washing machine strapped to her back, so it’s hardly breakfast telly for the iPhone generation.

But DAYBREAK!? Yes, the name has those vague, optimistic leanings that bad ad executives mistake for engagement, but that sans serif typeface and the purple colour scheme mean you couldn’t pass a Swedish crispbread between this brand identity and a chain of cheap motorway hotels. Mind you, the whiff of a Welcome Break just off the M6 might be just the right thing to reignite the kind of seedy sexual chemistry that kept British viewers grimly glued to breakfast television during the Anne and Nick years.

Oh, GMTV, you have consistently under-delivered and long may you do so. You don’t innovate, you mug the mid-market and year after year you convince the women of Britain that NEXT is worth shopping in. But nobody wants excitement at breakfast-time. And if they did, they wouldn’t be watching you.

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July 6th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Playing Politics with Data

Have you ever gone shopping and bought more than you need? Not much.  Maybe the 3 for 2 on strawberries when you know at least one punnet will rot in the fridge; another sneaky packet of biscuits that looked nice on the shelf? Ever thought about how much that adds up to at the end of the year? A lot, probably, but I bet you don’t like thinking about it.

Well, those of us who don’t go shopping with a strict list will know exactly how the former Labour government feels right now. Since coming to office, the new coalition has been doing the macroeconomic equivalent of going through the bank statements with a highlighter pen. But instead of pinning passive aggressive notes saying “£200 at Sainsbury’s! Have you got a tapeworm?” to the fridge door, the government has been publishing all this lovely information to the web.

And this week it has the last government’s expenditure on websites in its sights. The raw data, which has been summarised and interpreted by The Guardian can be seen here, is worth a look. At first glance it fits nicely with the coalition’s line on the last Labour government’s fiscal policy, which can be loosely translated as “they sold our lovely cow for magic beans!” But putting aside a couple of pricey anomalies, quite a few of these websites look very cost-effective indeed.

Take Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs (HMRC) for example. It may have cost £10m to build, but thanks to it you can submit your tax returns online – a process which we’re all agreed is not perfect, but still a darn sight better than the paper  old forms. Per visitor it costs us a mere penny – a sixtieth of what we all pay towards Her Majesty’s upkeep. We could say the same of Direct Gov. A substantial investment, but it’s a site relevant to millions, and probably saves more than that in unprinted information leaflets and spurious phone calls.

Where the last government’s web strategy did come unstuck, however, was around activity targeting businesses. The costs per visitor speak for themselves, but I’m not entirely sure whether this represents credit card happiness among government officials, or just the fact that these websites naturally reach smaller audiences. More or less everyone checked Direct-Gov at the height of the swine flu epidemic, but I bet you probably only visited the Research and Development site if you were worked in development.

Which brings us to the last point. This might be raw data, but it’s data that’s been released to make a political point, so interpret it carefully. The coalition wants tech audiences to think some of these websites were a waste of money. But, to paraphrase a player in an earlier political scandal, Mandy Rice-Davies “they would, wouldn’t they?” It’s in their best interests to make the last lot look like chumps, even if they did get a few things right. Yes, some questionable decisions were made during the last 13 years, but I’d rather have most of these websites than not, wouldn’t you?

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April 26th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

There’s no such thing as a bad idea?

The furore the ‘despicable’ Foreign Office memo about the Pope’s upcoming trip to the UK has sparked in the papers this weekend teaches us three things: -

1. ‘Disgusted, Tunbridge Wellsjournalism is alive and well. Reading most of the coverage you can practically hear the jowls of middle England wobbling in indignation over their toast and marmlade

2. That Catholic spokespeople do have a sense of humour. (And let’s face it, they probably appreciate all the light relief they can get at the moment)

3. If you do anything remotely creative for a living you should never, EVER show your rough working to anyone who’ll take it at face value

There’s a good reason why the creative process is shrouded in mystery. And it’s not because the process of creating ideas is so magical that we need to keep it secret. It’s because that it often involves throwing around ideas that, at first glance, are stupid, nonsensical and even deeply offensive.

Clients like to work with agencies who offer fresh and surprising ideas. And the challenge of maintaining a high quality of ideas, even when you’ve worked with a client for many years, is a constant struggle. Not least because the human brain is a contrary and negative thing. We all know that it’s easier (and more fun) to knock something down than it is to build it.

This is why, as Speed’s creative director, I often start brainstorms with an exercise called ‘Battleships’, in which we list out all the ways in which we think a product, service or client could sink without trace. It’s a way of harnessing the power of negative thinking – to positive ends. Not only does it release people’s negative attitudes, but it can also be  a source of rather brilliant ideas. Often all a ‘bad’ idea needs is a slight change in emphasis and it turns into the campaign slogan or initiative that wins you a big pitch. Moreover, the more limits you put on people’s thinking in terms of what’s appropriate, the more boring and obvious their ideas become.

Hence why I found the news that the raw and unpolished results of a Foreign Office brainstorm had found its way to the papers so thoroughly depressing. No one in their right mind really expects the Pope to endorse condoms, but it’s a pretty safe bet that he’ll be picketed by the safer sex lobby all through his visit to the UK. So how are the Foreign Office mandarins going to work around it?

The Foreign Office was right to spend time thinking about what failure and disaster looks like. Because without understanding that, it will never plan a successful visit for the Pope. Its only mistake was sharing its insight with people who don’t understand that before you can, in the words of Bing Crosby, “accentuate the positive”, you have to “eliminate the negative”.

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April 19th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Real men don’t wear gold shoes. Do they?

A fascinating request for comment went around Response Source  this morning from Simon Brooke, one of my favourite freelancers. It said:

“I’m writing a piece for the Financial Times about the current trend for brightly coloured shoes for men… It would be someone who is a shoe fan but thinks that gold, bright blue or shocking pink footwear is just too much and that guys will never go for them. “

The truth of the matter that innovation and the male shoe have never made comfortable bedfellows. In fact, time was that your choice of shoe made a very definite statement about what you did in bed. Wearing suede shoes, for example, was a signal that when it came to love, you preferred the kind “that dare not speak its name”. And so rebellious was the act of wearing leather’s furrier cousin on your feet, that it used to get you expelled from Oxford or Cambridge universities.

Sexual politics may have moved on since then, but men’s footwear has stayed conservative, sloughing off numerous false dawns, including: -

  • The platform shoe  – rendered forever unacceptable by Rodney Bewes wearing them in repeats of The Likely Lads
  • The mandal (male sandal) – for every Russell Crowe in Gladiator there have been 100 beard-wearing real ale enthusiasts called Geoff
  • The Croc – wearing a colander on your feet is not – and never will be – a hot look
  • The medge (male wedge) – a stillborn innovation. Let us never speak of it again

So while it’s possible to get temporarily excited about Kurt Geiger’s range of rainbow driving shoes, metallic oxford lace-ups (though Hedi Slimane was doing this for Dior Homme in 2003, so it’s not that current) and the ruby slipper-inspired pointy dress shoe that Office sells EVERY Christmas, let’s not call an end to conservatism just yet.

For one thing, colourful shoes can have a dampening effect on the rest of your wardrobe. They often compel you to tone the rest of your outfit down for fear that those sky-blue loafers will make you look like you’ve joined the Circus of Cuban Pimps. Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross might be able to get away with them, but they’ve made a living from dressing up like Christmas trees with a Y chromosome, and most of us haven’t. Catwalk aside, men’s fashion still lives in mortal fear of trying too hard, and looking too different.

It’s therefore no surprise that fashion brands try to foist these things on male shoppers every couple of years and they overwhelmingly end up in the sale racks, snapped up for a song by Christmas partygoers, off-duty drag queens and low-rent cabaret performers (myself included). The novelty shoe is the opposite of a puppy. It’s not for life, but it might do for Christmas.

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April 19th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Nike wants us to reclaim the streets?

Picture the situation. You’re a huge brand with a dominant position in your market. You have enough power and money to make King Solomon blush, but you have a couple of problems. Firstly, by virtue of your size, people think you’re a bit faceless. Secondly, you’ve been the subject of some damaging investigations that have linked your products to exploitative labour in the developing world.

So you make money, but oridinary people hate you. What do you do?

What Nike’s done. That’s what.

Nike started the 21st century as a corporate social responsibility whipping boy. Na0mi Klein’s demolition of its brand in No Logo transformed its public image from being a world-leading manufacturer of posh trainers into the kind of villainous organisation that, had it been around in 1830s London, would have been pushing small children up chimneys armed with toothbrushes.

To its credit, however, Nike has slowly and carefully repaired a lot of its damage to its brand. And not by the kind of defensive top down activity that huge global companies default to, but by initatives designed to build a strong, positive relationship with the people who consume most of its products. Runners.

Nike’s marketing over the past few years has been a textbook example of how to do ‘relationship marketing’. After working out that runners liked listening to their iPods as they ran it teamed up with Apple to develop the hugely successful Nike+.  It picked runner-friendly celebrities for its charity tie-ins, it blogged and offered exclusive content on Facebook. Basically everything you should do to get a constituency of hobbyists who could act as your brand ambassadors on side.

Now this strategy has taken an interesting turn with the Nike Grid campaign. This is a street-running competition devised by Nike that people join via Facebook (through Facebook Connect) and which encourages them to race each other through the streets of London, using the capital’s under-used network of phone boxes as staging points. The more phone boxes you connect, the more points you score. It’s a cute idea, and one that indrectly associates Nike with ‘reclaim the streets’ activism – a subtle kind of activism that puts Nike on the same level as the (running) man in the street.

It’s not something you’ll care about if you’re not a runner, but that’s exactly the point. Nike has done very well out of cultivating niche markets, and this is a brilliant example of how a brand can harness the various tactical methods of keeping in touch with people in today’s connected world, and turn them into an elegant integrated campaign. It makes you feel part of a community, but also reminds you that you need a new pair of running shoes…

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April 15th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Why I won’t be watching the Leaders’ Debate tonight

Hat-tip for Gawker (or as I call it, the grad-school student’s Perez Hilton) here.

As someone who cares a lot about politics, but not much for our present crop of politicians, I’ve had very mixed feelings about the phoney war that is the UK’s general election campaign. I suspect this has a lot to do with over-anticipation. After all, we’ve been waiting for this since Gordon ‘Dracula’ Brown turned himself into a cloud of black smoke and snuck through 10 Downing Street’s keyhole in summer 2007. And like all things we’ve waited a bit or too long for – like the second Stone Roses album, or losing one’s virginity – the reality is always disappointing compared to the anticipation.

Nor can I get very excited about the prospect of head-to-head leadership debates starting tonight on the BBC. This is despite major broadcasters telling us at every opportunity that this is the biggest news story since the dinosaurs went for a lie down 65 million years ago because they were “feeling a bit poorly”. We’re meant to think they’re a victory for democracy as they happen in America. And yes, American democracy may have brought us Nixon vs. Kennedy, but it also brought us Florida 2000 and Sarah Palin.

But I wasn’t exactly able to explain why the thought of Brown, Cameron and Clegg debating their micro-policies tonight failed to light my democractic fire. Until I read this on Gawker this morning. Because there’s nothing like a disinterested outsider’s point of view for putting into words what you felt, but couldn’t articulate.

On the non-choice facing the British public it said: ‘if you were faced with a choice between three parties, headed by magnificently uncharismatic men, whose policies range from “tax the rich slightly more” to “don’t tax the rich at all,” wouldn’t you want to focus on things like, did Gordon Brown yell… at a secretary? Democracy in action!’

Thank you Gawker. I just wish your wisdom made me feel one iota better.

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March 26th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Imitation is the insanest form of flattery

Just when you thought Lady GaGa fever had broken, and we could all return to life lived at a normal temperature, it gets even weirder.

This one goes out to John Brown @brownbare, whose intrepid investigation of the Chatroulette ‘platform’ led him to conclude that it was mostly used by men who, in the immortal words of the DiVinyls, like to touch themselves.

It’s Telephone reinterpreted by a Chatroulette regular. I shall discreetly refuse to speculate what this guy is on, but he needs to think about reducing the dosage. Enjoy, and happy Friday.


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March 26th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Imitation is the lamest form of flattery

According to Oscar Wilde, “talent borrows, genius steals”. Except if you’re a visual merchandiser for an unnamed fashion retailer who takes a literal-minded approach to following youth trends.

Lady GaGa’s video for “Telephone” may be the first music promo ever to get more than a billion online views, but this success has spawned a monster. The tribute ‘Telephone’ window display, now available to gawp at on London’s Oxford Street. It is, needless to say, amazing. Marvel at the ham-fisted opportunism! Be astonished by the bad weaves! Laugh your mammaries off at the fact they’ve bothered to pin Diet Coke cans in one of the mannequin’s weaves.

Now if you don’t mind, we’re off to storyboard the video for Alejandro.

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March 25th, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

Back to the 90s – passive smoking

Trends are cyclical things. If it hangs around long enough, a product, idea or a person can have more than one shot at the zeitgeist. Provided everyone understands that between those two spells in the limelight are long periods spent hanging around in second-hand shops or bad dissertations, and doing summer seasons at Butlins.

For gauging whether something or someone’s time has come again I usually apply what I call the ‘10 and 20 year rule’. Which means that if it was ten years ago, it’s disgusting (hence why J-Lo’s in the doldrums right now), but if it was 20 years ago, it must be amazing. So watch this space for the 2Unlimited revival – because it’s the 20th anniversary of ‘Get Ready For This‘ in 2011.

This rule, however, assumes that we might want a concept back in a million years. And there are plenty of exceptions for this. So while it’s unfortunate that we’re celebrating the 20th anniversary of negative equity with…yet more negative equity I do doubt whether there are trendsetters sitting in coffee shops saying:

“Ohmygod, shelling out for a new-build flat four years ago and finding out it’s worth 30 grand less than you paid for it is SO HOTRIGHTNOW. My friend Serge is totally doing that.”

I’m detecting there’s even less enthusiasm for passive smoking. This seems to have climbed out of the yellow label bin of public health scares and back into the collective consciousness this week. Bringing us such retro headlines as

Smoking ban proposed - BBC News
Smoking in cars: a ban too far – The Telegraph
Doctors demand smoking ban in private carsReuters
(And 208 other results, according to our friends at Google News.)

Putting aside the ethical considerations of smoking around your kids in a confined space for a moment, I can’t think of a more 90s concept than passive smoking. It’s like Tamagotchis, All Saints and POGs, which gripped us twenty years ago, but seem quaint and inconceivable now. And let’s not have it back, shall we?

So, for the good of all our sanities, let’s take the national unconscious decision to smoke less in the car. Because you know what’ll happen if we don’t. There’ll be a preachy TV advert campaign. We’ll have Ed Balls doing his unconvincing “think of the children” act all over the BBC. And someone, somewhere will inevitably think that it’s a good idea to use Twitter as a public health preaching platform, thus creating the new portmanteau word of ‘Tweaching’.

And that last reason alone is, I think, reason enough for us not to welcome this little bit of the 90s back into our homes.

But I’ll leave you with a piece of the 90s that is worth saving. Corona’s Rhythm of the Night, which is awesome.

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March 22nd, 2010 by Chris McCrudden

You need to try Meow Meow

Okay, I’m sorry – this is a misleading title. I’m certainly not advocating that the readership of Speed’s blogs should be pureeing their precious and finely tuned grey matter with the Moulinex stick blender that is new ’street drug’ Miaow Miaow. But it got your attention, didn’t it?

Instead, I’m strongly recommending that you sashay down to the Soho Theatre on Dean Street this instant (or log on to www.sohotheatre.com for out-of-towners) and get yourself tickets for Meow Meow, a cabaret singer of rare distinction. Well, I say distinction she typically staggers out on stage drunk, bums a glass of red wine from an audience member and sings Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini in Cantonese, but you get the idea.

It takes a lot of guts and even more talent to take the sacred cows of 20th century lieder by the likes of Kurt Weill and Jacques Brel, mince them into hamburgers and feed them back to an audience, but Meow Meow manages it. Her show is a fascinating mix of classic songs performed beautifully but never, ever taken seriously. And if she has the voice of a whisky-sodden angel, she has the dramatic sensibility of a Brooklyn drag queen when it comes to audience participation. So unless you plan on finding yourself dragged on stage and forced to act as a human microphone stand, sit in the middle and NEVER catch her eye.

The video below should give you a good idea of how Ms Meow Meow blends song and mortal embarrassment to high-larious effect. But of course, it’s not the same as the real thing.

It’s only a tenner and on for the next month. Kill for a ticket, and laugh like a drain.

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