He sat there with a frown and eyes squinting as he stared at nothing in particular and sharp was his nose as it twitched while he thought. His aggression, manifesting itself in the vibrations of his throat, as he prepares to speak. His left hand palmed his right fist, tightly clenched as if to protect a very important something from being stolen out of his hands. And he spoke with the authority of a U.S. General declaring war on Iraq. His forehead glistened with a bead of sweat as he opened his mouth and he uttered five words, in a low voice that was hard and cold like stalagmites in an arctic cave.
“IT HAS TO BE CLUTTER-BREAKING”
These rogues come in varied shape and form and they are better known as ‘clients’, dreaded by the agency, by every agency. It’s ironic that the reason for the existence of an agency is one and is also called, “the client”. The hand that feeds the mouth also pokes the tummy (and how?) My banter actually lies not in the inequities of the monster mentioned but in the five words he uttered. The old joke, if I may quote, is “you are unique, just like everyone else” and now this needs a change. The new version should be, “I want an ad that’s clutter breaking” Period. If every goddam client wants to break the clutter, allow us to make some first. The agency then brainstorms to come up with a “unique” idea that “breaks the clutter” and the client sits scratching his little chin. He then paces the room staring at the screen displaying slides of the presentation. A sip of water, an occasional grunt, a throat clearing ritual and lo, you have a client stripped of all that aggression he had displayed in the previous meeting. His face tightens and he looks at you with the concern of a mother and says, “well, nice idea but is this not too early to experiment such a drastic shift in conventional advertising?” You pathetic bastard… what else do you call “clutter-breaking”? A female selling shaving cream for men is clutter; would a man selling shaving cream thus become, clutter-breaking?
That’s not where the buck stops. You give him an ad he would like and he will kill it for you. Changes, as they are known, are his right to cruelty for he pays you to be victims of it. After a thousand such changes, you look at your own creation and wonder if it was your idea in the first place. You started off with an image and a headline and a body copy that flowed evenly, ample white space, lovely font and strategically placed logo. What you end up looking at, is a notice from the court. The image is gone, the white space is a waste of his money, the logo has to be larger than the goddam print area itself and the copy has to have the eighty-five-year-old history of the company and the future it promises in the next eighty years. Not finished yet, it should also tell you who the CEO is and how did he become the CEO and who wiped his poop when he couldn’t do it himself in sixth grade. Everything.
I don’t even know why am I writing all this in the first place… I belong to the radio industry… but they are no different there, either. In my case, my bosses are my clients… go figure my sadness out.
“IT HAS TO BE CLUTTER-BREAKING”
These rogues come in varied shape and form and they are better known as ‘clients’, dreaded by the agency, by every agency. It’s ironic that the reason for the existence of an agency is one and is also called, “the client”. The hand that feeds the mouth also pokes the tummy (and how?) My banter actually lies not in the inequities of the monster mentioned but in the five words he uttered. The old joke, if I may quote, is “you are unique, just like everyone else” and now this needs a change. The new version should be, “I want an ad that’s clutter breaking” Period. If every goddam client wants to break the clutter, allow us to make some first. The agency then brainstorms to come up with a “unique” idea that “breaks the clutter” and the client sits scratching his little chin. He then paces the room staring at the screen displaying slides of the presentation. A sip of water, an occasional grunt, a throat clearing ritual and lo, you have a client stripped of all that aggression he had displayed in the previous meeting. His face tightens and he looks at you with the concern of a mother and says, “well, nice idea but is this not too early to experiment such a drastic shift in conventional advertising?” You pathetic bastard… what else do you call “clutter-breaking”? A female selling shaving cream for men is clutter; would a man selling shaving cream thus become, clutter-breaking?
That’s not where the buck stops. You give him an ad he would like and he will kill it for you. Changes, as they are known, are his right to cruelty for he pays you to be victims of it. After a thousand such changes, you look at your own creation and wonder if it was your idea in the first place. You started off with an image and a headline and a body copy that flowed evenly, ample white space, lovely font and strategically placed logo. What you end up looking at, is a notice from the court. The image is gone, the white space is a waste of his money, the logo has to be larger than the goddam print area itself and the copy has to have the eighty-five-year-old history of the company and the future it promises in the next eighty years. Not finished yet, it should also tell you who the CEO is and how did he become the CEO and who wiped his poop when he couldn’t do it himself in sixth grade. Everything.
I don’t even know why am I writing all this in the first place… I belong to the radio industry… but they are no different there, either. In my case, my bosses are my clients… go figure my sadness out.
