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Monday, March 21, 2011

Advertising: Edgy or Over the Line?


Spirit Airlines had quite a 2010. Holding 200 passengers on a New York tarmac for hours and refusing to give water or bathroom breaks. Charging $45 for a carry-on bag. Stranding 16,000 passengers with a seemingly impromptu strike. Now the low-cost airline is making a new name for themselves: Frat Boy Advertising.

Edgy and crude, their copywriters are pushing the envelope towards adolescent and chauvinistic. Two online ads caught my attention.

1) Notice the headline:

Many Unbelievably Fantastic Fares to Diving destinations.

2) How about this one?:

Many Islands Low Fares

Oral sex and sexy moms. There's no wonder who their demographic is on this campaign.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Why isn’t packaging this hot anymore?


I remember going to dad's office - he was Mr. Public Relations once upon a time - and watching the secretaries change the ribbons in the typewriters. (I wonder how many of us actually used a real typewriter in our lifetimes.)

Anyway the best part of them changing the ribbons was they gave me the incredible tins the ribbons came in. I saved a few of these incredibly designed packages. It’s sad that everything now is downloadable or in plastic clamshells and neat designs are extinct.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Anti-Sweetheart



Last time I talked of the pleasure of meeting up with Diane Lane. This time, the anti-sweetheart of the ad world is chronicled. You don’t know him by name, but you know his type oh too well. He’s the kind of guy who can ruin Valentine’s Day, Christmas and the Fourth of July in the same year. The kind of guy who squeezes a penny so hard Lincoln cries.

For a man from Joy, Illinois, Jeffery Crowe is one of the least happy people you've ever met.

If he's not The Most Hated Man in Advertising, he's in the running. His appearance is typically that of a man with hemorrhoids and acid indigestion. He looks everywhere but into your eyes. It's even money as to which he enjoys more – sneering or yelling.

Once, in his first year at the agency, an hour before the American Music Awards, iconic Dick Clark was trying to explain something to Crowe about program flow and stage direction. Except Crowe wasn't looking at Clark. He was tuning his two-way walkie-talkie.

"I'm trying to talk to you!" Clark objected.

It didn't help. Crowe was head down deep in though. Finally, Clark slapped the walkie out of Crowe's hands, smashing it to the floor.

He paid attention after that.

One time, a nameless CBS executive thought it would be helpful for Crowe and positive thinking guru Tony Robbins to have lunch. He let Crowe drink in some of Robbins' perspectives.

The three of them united at a Santa Monica eatery. Robbins, positive and outgoing as ever, tried to convey some insight. Except Crowe wasn't looking at Robbins. He wasn't looking at the CBS executive, either. He was looking at the stock report. The whole time. With his Wall Street Journal handy to take notes in. Robbins did not leave impressed.

Only one problem. He’s a genius. A creative director’s dream and an agency executive’s nightmare. So when a new agency head hits town, before they set their Samsonites down, they’re already redlining Crowe from the agency masthead. Funny thing is, almost no one stands up for him.

Crowe was boxed up and booted from the New York agency scene and landed in Los Angeles. Awards aplenty and an attitude to top it. It's a huge moment for Crowe, if only because his disdain for making nice means everything rides on brilliance.

"In New York, they want to kick you in the b***s," says his new creative director Donald Cassidy. "In Boston, they don't care about you. But in L.A, they want to love you. They want to make a connection with you. Any kind of connection. But Jeff doesn't really care."

Crowe could own L.A. if he wanted. In a city that is so laid back, you are horizontal; Crowe could have his name on half the billboards and all the awards. My goodness, the Enigma as he’s called, doesn't even try. He has zero loyalty from all of the people he’s made wads of cash for and doesn't want any. If there is such a thing as a Jeffery Crowe Fan Club, he is having a membership drive -- to drive them out.

If you're a client marketing director looking for a helpful answer out of Jeffery Crowe, good luck.

Marketing Director (in a conference call): What happened in that focus group, Jeffery?

Crowe: We tested the product.

Marketing Director: Right, but what did you see developing there? Take us through it.

Crowe (archly): It seemed like a good place to understand likes and dislikes.

Crowe is the kind of guy you just want to pick up and throw into a swimming pool, which is exactly what Dennis Hopper and Margeaux Hemingway did one year after a Friars Club Roast.

"He's an conceited little jerk," Hopkins, once said on a national show. "He's a little wuss."

Harsh? Yes.

Heard before? Yes.

Crowe's new L.A. agency teammates will defend him, when asked. "It's surprising to me how people form a belief of a guy who've never even met him," says new copywriter, Marisa David, a close friend.

So what's the truth?

"He is what he is," David says.

Not exactly something for your tombstone.

So why is Crowe as popular as cancer?

Is it because he never makes eye contact?

Is it his seeming inability to answer a question without displaying his massive amount of ego?

Is it jealousy from all of his awards?

Is it his penchant for making things difficult?

"Deep, deep down, I think he's a really good guy," David says.

Maybe.

But why do we have to look that deep?

Friday, February 18, 2011

World Portraits: Sandstone Citadels

In the southeast corner of Arabia lies the Sultanate of Oman, a charming blend of the old and new. Near its capital in Muscat is one of the most amazing sites: immense sandstone citadels that were carved naturally from the wind and have petrified over the last four centuries to remain in nearly the same form you would have seen in the 17th century.

Friday, February 11, 2011

A Morning with Diane Lane


Connor 'The Highlander' MacLeod.
George W. Bush.
The Media Guy.


What do these characters have in common? They’ve all had relationships with the ageless Diane Lane. (Yes I know, some more brief than others).

For a woman who was born to October 1957 Playboy centerfold Colleen Farrington, it’s no wonder that Ms. Lane possesses a smoldering provocativeness that perfectly complements her remarkable intricacy as an actress.

If she's not The-Hottest-Woman-Over-40-in-Hollywood (as my colleagues have suggested), she's in the running. Her expression is usually that of a lady in waiting; regal, yet playful. She looks into your eyes and welcomes you like a big warm hug. It's a tie as to which she enjoys more -- smiling or laughing. It's hard to say what interests her, but when you are next to her, you definitely think it’s you.

Because of the fascinating improbability of my job, I find myself in random situations that transcend the normal. I’m no name dropper, but I’ve rubbed elbows with some incredibly famous folk.

I’ve had some “pinch me” moments including a dance with Pia Zadora at a Johnny Rivers concert, chalk talk with Lyle Alzado, tea with Harry Connick Jr. at the St. Regis, chalk-talk with Magic Johnson and multiple “bro” hugs from Matthew McConaughey while chatting about a tidy chip-in from 45 yards out. I’ve also babysat Yasmine Bleeth during a glorious 70’s-throwback weekend in 1997 Las Vegas. (Yes, I think the court records are still suppressed.)

It all makes for fun fodder with the guys and is definitely a perk they don’t tell you about at the school of communications, but nothing was better than the morning with Diane Lane at a West L.A. dog park.

Pour the wine. Dim the lights. Pop a sedative. And dig in because the dog park is quite a scene on Saturdays. I got roped into this helping a friend out. I wore my worst shoes and walked two miles because animal hair in the car is not something I wish on anyone. Today the crowd is sparse and the first newbie to stroll in is the Desperate Housewife #1, wearing a dress that makes her look like a cake topper. Desperate Housewife #2 is Susan, wearing an orange Happy Birthday button from Disneyland. How do I know her name is Susan? Because she spends the next 10 minutes telling me her husband is away on her birthday visiting his ailing mom in Ohio. She’s pretty upset and shaping up to be today’s crazee. Moments later, the bitchy birthday girl hooks up with Desperate Housewife #3, Jackie, who also has man issues. Luckily, I wasn’t having a good hair day so Jackie ignored me and they left to [allegedly] drown their sorrows at some local dive.

And then it happened. Enter -- stage left -- Diane Lane. Replete with green sweater and a sparkling smile she settled in near me soaking in the Los Angeles sun. I steered clear of asking her details of Jon Bon Jovi’s breakup details in his 2010 book and stuck to small talk as she leaked a little about the prior night’s dinner with Spanish peppers sautéed in olive oil brought all the way from New York.

Other things I learned during my ‘Must Love Dogs’ afternoon:
  • One, if you make an appointment with a famous design house in Paris (or really any showroom anywhere), be on time. Better yet, be early. She says they really like that.
  • Two, if you have the good fortune of Jean Paul Gaultier popping over to say hello, act cool.
  • Three, be confident. Walk into the Comme des Garcons showroom knowing that you WILL walk out with an order.
  • Four, she’s in love with her husband. BIG TIME.
  • Five, she loves a good stogie occasionally.
Speaking of cigars. As Miss Media Guy January 2011 walked into the distance, I reached for my Los Blancos Nine Torpedo. Maybe it was just wishful thinking or maybe it was real, but I couldn't help but notice the appreciating sweep of Diane's eyes as she said goodbye, even if she was very much in love with her husband. I couldn’t help but muse that being a sleeker, sexier Media Guy boosts the confidence. I’m not 25 anymore and not the ideal weight yet, but my workout program and eating healthier has really transformed me mentally and physically. You never know who you could run into at the dog park, so it never hurts you to look your best. Whether it’s Diane, Yasmine, the hot bisexuals at the Christmas party or even a prospective new client, that extra confidence puts you at the top of your game. Blah blah blah, yet I digress.

At the end of my Torpedo I headed back to drop off the pooch now that work called to me; creative work that demanded genius.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

MGS Chat: BIJAN


IN MEMORIUM: BIJAN PAKZAD DIED ON APRIL 16, 2011. THIS WOULD BE ONE OF THE LAST INTERVIEWS HE DID (click here for the Los Angeles Times obituary).
Bijan Pakzad's sophisticated, bold, brash style made him a star in the world's richest retail district and allows him to (sometimes) reveal his often hidden softer side, of course, “by appointment only.”
The glistening two-level $12 million men's shop on Beverly Hills's Rodeo Drive, is the picture of opulence: Napoleonic swords resting on Italian antiques; a French armoire fronting the dressing room; mahogany staircases; closets with huge Bijan perfume bottles for doorknobs, each holding $7,000 worth of the good smelling stuff; a $2-million original Fernando Botero painting called "The Rich;" Persian rugs; living trees rooted in the foundation of the floor and dozens of silver-framed pictures of well-known clients, all under a Baccarat crystal chandelier adorned with 2,150 amber-colored bottles of his best-selling signature perfume.
 
Too bad I was on the outside looking in on an unseasonably hot spring day. It was getting warmer as I waited for the door to open. Although a smartly dressed assistant greeted me as he unlocked the glass door, he wasn't about to let me into the shop. Not with a Swiss customer inside anxious to see what Bijan had up his sleeve for his winter line. Not with a $500,000 order in the store. Not with a private plane awaiting the customer's return to the Santa Monica airport to whisk him back to his native Switzerland. By appointment only has its advantages, and one of them is complete, undivided attention.

So, outside I remained with only Bijan's custom-colored, $400,000 yellow Rolls-Royce Drophead Coupe parked in front to keep me company (along with the frequent tourists who snapped pictures beside the jaw-dropper). If the outside could create a stir, I wondered what life was like inside the exclusive boutique.

I would soon find out.

My new appointment time arrives and I am in! With the exception of client design notes being given to an assistant by “Mr.    Bijan” (as his team affectionately and respectfully calls him), the showroom is quiet. Beverly Hills's charismatic, high-flying fashionisto appears in grand form, almost regal in his Bijan navy blazer, tie, shirt and shoes co-mingled with a pair of jeans. Everything has a signature style here. Even his showroom tours have alluring style, each piece and fashion vignette more upscale than the rest.           

“Have you ever seen ties like these?” he asks. The first silk tie was unveiled and untied from a matching silk box. Black with green polka dots, it only proved that truth is stranger than fiction with its $750 price tag and matching pocket square.

“Quite frankly, no,” was my reply, as he brought out 30 or so more from his inventory of 2,000 plus different boxed sets.

He bills himself as the Beverly Hills King of Fashion and says it's the art of clothing that pushes him to show new styles, changing his inventory every 10 days with new fashions for his discerning clients. His bold television advertising and billboards on L.A.'s busy Westside and along the crowded 405 freeway, and his policy against sales and price reductions have served only to intrigue the public and grow his reputation. His reputation enables him now to charge $9,000 for a brown crocodile-like leather coat, thousands for shirts and hats, $30,000 for a lion-skin jacket and $100,000 for a chinchilla fur bed spread. 

Presidents, kings, princes and stars all love him. George H.W. Bush admired Bijan's “great suit,” and the late Saudi Prince Ahmad bin Salman bin Abdelaziz said he was “an artist whose designs touch the soul and please the eye,” while Arnold Schwarzenegger considers his work “genius.”
 
“I introduce the moments of luxury that people dream of,” he explains when asked what his secret is. “This is why the most powerful men in the world would come here and why they keep coming back.”

Determination was his best friend growing up in his native Iran, constantly and continually looking to create and inspire. “I settled in on clothing. I always sketched out ideas and my designs. There was always a common thread: quality, a classic look and exclusivity.”

He took his passion for fashion to Europe, where he went to study, and then back to the capital of his native Iran, where he opened shop. Soon his innovation gained support, and it spun upward; he was a hit, designing for top businesspeople and royalty there. Alas, it wasn't enough. Being big was not big enough. He brought his business to New York and eventually to Beverly Hills in 1976. “You don't know how difficult it was telling men in Beverly Hills that visits were by appointment only,” he says. “Only a miracle combination of intelligence, savvy and expertise allowed me to make it real and everlasting.”

Upstairs in the consultation area, the closets underline his bold styles. Each has fresh flowers in vases inside and price tags that could drive many third world countries into bankruptcy. Each holds a clothing color scheme of its own: blues, oranges and browns to the right and to the left, greens, reds and yellows.

This is my chance to find out what's “in” this season. He rattles off a quick list: “Simplicity is in. Tight is in. Colorful fabrics are in. Personally, I like white, dark blue and yellow!”

Later, while still upstairs in the loft overlooking the main floor, we sit. It's a nice respite from the heat outside, and this is where Bijan typically finds his center amidst his perfectly aligned potted plants. “I'm crazy about color and flowers,” he says. “They breathe life into the air and into me.”

Then came the kicker question from me: “Don't you ever get intimidated by some of the world leaders that are your clients?”

“Intimidated?” he replied, while becoming a tad animated. “Intimidated? Why would I? I am the doctor. I am the teacher. This is why the Sultan of Brunei came to me and I dressed him in $4 million worth of clothes. Or why Queen Noor came to me when she wanted silk pajamas for King Hussein. Or why King Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz Al Saud orders top coats from me made with vicuna from the mountains of Peru that costs 4,000 euros per yard. They come to me because I am able to find solutions to use the best fabrics in the world. You can't ship vicuna into the U.S. When I see the right fit with vicuna fabric for a foreign client, I ship it to my factory in Italy and then deliver the finished goods from there.

“Once, Prince Al Waleed bin Talal Al-Saud (ranked number 19 on the Forbes 2010 richest billionaires list) kept asking for things outside of his order and consultation. I grew tired of the demands. So in the middle of a $1 million order, I had to call his business manager at 2 a.m. in London and tell him to 'take your money and put it in your mouth.' My clients are billionaires, with a B, CEOs, world leaders and presidents of nearly 40 countries. This is what I think of intimidation.

“With respect to all of the other designers here in Beverly Hills, I design for the designer. Armani, de la Renta and the lot, I design what they wear. They come to me for a different look because I offer uniqueness. I'm not like Cartier that makes thousands of the same watches or Calvin Klein who makes the same pair of jeans over and over. This is why you had to wait over an hour for us to meet today. The client who was here likes his privacy and loves what we can give him. He comes here, half way around the world, to buy my taste and ideas the same as influential customers all over the world.”

So with a flair for the dramatic-both in style, promotion and persona, Bijan is decidedly quiet about his softer side, his closeness to his adult son and daughter and how he gives back to the community. Those who surround him at the showroom are lavish in praise of his caring spirit and how he would just as soon spend time with those in need in lieu of a client visit. He regularly invites patients of nearby hospitals for friendship, dispensing advice on possessing a strong spirit to survive as if he were a pharmacist of some sort. He is heavily involved with the Persian American Cancer Institute (PACI) for cancer research and support and wants to continue to support patients both emotionally and financially. Through his work here, he is also able to help the unfortunate and sick children in the Middle East.

Bijan brought to Beverly Hills several personal traits that would serve him well: an adoration of the great American dream and outrageous advertising that routinely features himself and his family and has also included Bo Derek flashing his (at the time) young son. And there was also his highly controversial Bella campaign featuring nude Rubenesque models. These traits resonated deeply among the people who craved—and could pay for—something different. And that's in addition to an easy, soothing intimacy with clients and a love for his homeland.            

“I love Iran,” says Bijan. “It is the best. The art, culture and history. All of it. Who cares about how chic Napoleon's bedroom is, because when you sleep in your own bed, it is the best. I mean that you can appreciate other things, but mine is always the best.”

His eccentric personality, with its entrepreneurial spirit, has impressed even the most judgmental of Los Angeles and New York's upper crust. “My advertising is something that elevated my persona and gained recognition in the right places,” he says. “However, my reputation only spread at the high rate it did because of the way I am able to sum up the man and his fashion needs. I study the man, understand his profession. I combine his age, the shape of his body, his budget and, above all else, know his lifestyle. Most don't have this 'it' ability to formulize a fusion of style and energy for the client, and it isn't something you can put on paper like a math formula.

“I am blessed. I don't have do-overs. See it, do it, no regrets. From age 15, I was always going forward and fortunately, always it all worked out.”

“By appointment only” is something you could really get used to—along with your Bugatti and private jet.

The Michael Jordan by Bijan fragrance has sold millions of bottles since its introduction.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

World Portraits: Charming



MOROCCO...Snake charming, one of the oldest professions of India, is making its way into the Middle East and delighting tourists and residents of the North African nation as of late. Armed only with their special flutes, street-side charmers hypnotize deadly cobras and audiences alike with their singsong tunes, while inducing silence from all who watch.