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Can Chris MacDonald hack it at McCann New York?

April 26, 2013

Chris MacdonaldHaving, a while back, complimented Chris Macdonald on the improved quality of his tailoring, it would be churlish not to congratulate London’s sharpest suit on landing the hot seat at McCann New York, where he will soon become president.

Macdonald, who combines the position of McCann London group chairman with agency chief executive, is one of several senior executives to be reshuffled in the first significant management changes to be made by Harris Diamond, Nick Brien’s replacement as Worldgroup chief executive. In effect, Macdonald is to take up a position that has been – inexplicably in a creative agency –  left vacant for over a year. His predecessor, Thom Gruhler, quit for Microsoft after – like many around him – coming to blows with Brien over his shoot-from-the-hip management style. The seat had in the interim been kept warm by Hank Summy – a Brien hiring with no traditional agency experience – who has now been elegantly side-shifted to the bafflingly esoteric role of president, commerce at Worldgroup’s digital and direct arm, MRM.

Diamond is evidently throwing away the fairy-cycle stabiliser wheels and proving his own man earlier than expected (or perhaps, more accurately, than I had expected).  When he was picked as McCann Worldgroup CEO last November, McCann’s parent Interpublic hit upon the curious expedient of appointing two “handlers” – hemispheric presidents, Luca Lindner and Gustavo Martinez – to babysit the new boy while he learned the ropes. That was wholly understandable, given that Diamond was a former PR man with no experience of creative advertising. But might have sent out the wrong signal to clients: does McCann trust this man to do the job properly, or not?

In the event, the gamble involved in appointing him – he is well-regarded for his EQ – appears to be paying off. Six months into Diamond’s tenure, McCann has seen off Goodby Silverstein, recaptured the front-end of the General Motors pantomime pony; and won US domestic business as well. Quite a reversal of the negative business spiral that had dogged his predecessor’s two-and-a half-year reign.

It’s easy to see why Diamond might have called upon the services of Macdonald. Where his predecessor loved technical complexity, Diamond is all for human simplicity. “This is a straightforward business,” he told AdWeek recently. “If you can come up with great ideas and make an impact on your clients’ business you do well.”

The great idea, so far as Macdonald is concerned, is threefold. First, his London group role since 2008 has given him invaluable experience of breaking down silo walls and making the various parts of the marketing services machine interoperable. Second, Macdonald is very good with big clients, who these past few years have been feeling a bit bruised and under-loved. Third, London has had a good new business record under his stewardship, in contrast to certain other parts of the McCann empire.

But will the Macdonald pixie dust be enough to salvage McCann’s battered global reputation? That is the question observers are asking. Twenty-five years ago, or so, it was relatively easy for a smooth-talking, self-possessed Brit to make it “Over There” after making it over here. Britain’s reputation for advertising creativity and big brand marketing was second to none in the world. And, if that were not recommendation enough, we could also play the consumer and strategic planning card.

That was then. Now, our effortless superiority in those disciplines should not be taken for granted. And besides, the world has moved on in other ways. It’s a grimmer, greyer place. Post-crash, clients are challenged and risk-averse. As one source of mine puts it: “The need to meet quarterly numbers is more important than waving a magic wand of creativity. This is a low- to no-growth environment.” Add to that the complications of procurement, the massive disruption of traditional channels caused by social media, and the fiendish complexity of planning and measuring campaigns these days, and it becomes triply more difficult for any individual, however talented, to achieve cut-through.

McCann has many weaknesses as a creative agency brand, but one of its great strengths over the years has been its knowledge-in-depth of client businesses. That reputation took a knock under Brien. We have yet to find out whether Macdonald is the man to restore it.

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The man who didn’t cause the world’s most infamous marketing disaster dies

March 8, 2013

edselsThe death late last month of Roy Brown Jr, aged 96, is a timely reminder of that old adage: success has many authors; failure but one scapegoat. The reality, as we shall see, is not uncommonly the inverse.

Brown was Ford’s top designer during the Fifties and it was his misfortune to be saddled with historical responsibility for one of the greatest marketing disasters of all time. The Ford Edsel was conceived in 1955, born in the 1958 model year and unceremoniously euthanised in late November 1959. In that time it had cost Ford a record $350m, the equivalent in today’s money of about $2.8tr.

Critics rounded on the controversial “horse collar” or “toilet-seat” chrome grille, in which some amateur psychologists even descried a vulva, as the car’s killer feature. Admittedly, over 50 years later, it’s hard to regard that grille as an aesthetic triumph – but, with hindsight, it’s surely no more than a fairly conventional attribute of the overblown fin-styled float-boats of the time. In any case, Brown was not ultimately responsible for the grille. His concept was a much more restrained vertical opening, perhaps à la Alfa; it was overruled by Ford engineers, who deemed it too narrow for radiator-cooling efficiency.

The wider truth about the Edsel – and the calamity that engulfed it – is that it was not just an automobile style, not just a car, but a range of cars, a new manufacturing division and, most disastrous misconception of all, a market segment that never existed.

In reviewing the consumer boom in 1950s America, Ford market “research” had concluded the car manufacturer was in need of more careful market segmentation. Its top end range – Lincoln and Mercury – was found to be competing – horror of horrors – with more downmarket marques such as Oldsmobile and Buick at General Motors. Solution: push Lincoln further upscale with the new Continental marque, which would compete more credibly with Cadillac. And introduce a new mid-market marque, the Edsel, which would slot in just below Mercury and just above Ford.

Simple, eh? Except Ford senior management then went on to commit a series of textbook marketing errors. The research was fatally flawed: by 1957 middle Americans were tightening their belts as a mini-recession beckoned. If anything, they were looking downmarket, at more value for money. Speaking of which, Ford then committed error number two, it got greedy with its pricing. The new segment competed nearly head on with Mercury, undermining the latter’s perceived value. At the same time, the bottom end of the Edsel range overlapped Ford’s better-equipped and better-value-for-money Fairlane 500.

Error number three was the name. No one had a clue what it should be, so the task was delegated to Edsel’s agency, Foote Cone & Belding – which duly obliged with no less than 6,000 paralysing suggestions, none of which quite did the business. True, four of them – Citation, Corsair, Pacer and Ranger – ended up as model names. But that still left the awkward issue of the umbrella brand unresolved. What then happened almost beggars belief. While Ford chairman Henry Ford II – a known sceptic of the whole brand segmentation idea – was abroad, the board took it upon themselves to name the marque after his father, the oddly-named Edsel – in honour of the Ford family. An unintentional hostage to fortune if ever there was one.

All things considered, the Edsel actually had a reasonable launch. It undershot expectations, but still managed to be one of the biggest model launches to date. From there on in, however, it was rapidly downhill. As the recession bit and sales stalled, the vultures began to circle. Some actually thought the styling and layout of the vehicle (which shared a platform with other Ford marques) was too conventional (!). Others criticised the range for coming up with innovations, such as the Teletouch automatic transmission selector, which were too complex for the consumer of the time. And certainly there were reliability and after-market problems.

robert_mcnamaraGetting the picture? Biffed on all sides, sales tanking; enter Robert McNamara – Hank the Deuce’s axeman. Better known to history as the man who, as Secretary of Defense, thought up the “body-count” as a means of conjuring defeat in Vietnam into victory, in the late Fifties McNamara (left) was a whizz kid consultant at Ford, who shared his chairman’s deeply-held conviction (or was that prejudice?) that Ford was over segmented, and would do well to get back to core brand values. It was death for the new but massively underperforming marque by several strategic cuts – cuts in the marketing and advertising budget; cuts in the production budget and cuts in the management overheads. The separate Edsel division was soon dissolved, but the Edsel itself limped on for a while as rebadged, retrimmed and overpriced Ford models in all but name.

And Roy Brown, the man who got blamed for it in the popular imagination? He lived to fight another day, as chief designer of Ford’s first world-car, the Cortina. Not only that, he kept faith with the Edsel, an immaculate example of which he continued to drive until his dying days.

For Brown’s estate, at any rate, the Edsel will have proved a good investment. Showroom-condition models now achieve prices in excess of $100,000.


Big is beastly, especially if we’re talking big banks like Barclays

August 28, 2012

Which brands make us most angry? Yes, you guessed correctly. The big ones that rip us off, starve us of mortgage funds, pilfer our savings and behave with amoral disregard for everyone’s interest but their own. Anything, in short, that ends with the word “Bank”.

But come, let’s be a bit more specific. How about some brand differentiation – which is the worst, and which the runner-up? Well, coming in at number 2 – just behind the winning “All banks” category – is Barclays. And next, in 7th position, is Royal Bank of Scotland.

I know all of this thanks to some research, just out, conducted by YouGov and commissioned by creative agency Johnny Fearless (of which more below).

Why don’t Lloyds, Santander and HSBC make it into the top 10? Surely not on account of the odour of sanctity. We can only speculate, but could it be that Barclays and RBS have the two biggest Swinging Dicks attached to their brand heritage, namely Bob Diamond and Fred the Shred? I doubt that most people know who Antonio Horta-Osario is, and would struggle to recall his name in sufficient detail if they did. Which is probably just as well for Horta-Osario and Lloyds Bank.

More interesting, if perplexing in some ways, is the identity of the other 7 members of this exclusive Top 10 club. Tenth equal with Coca-Cola is Nestlé – still regarded as a corporate pariah on account of its anti-social baby-milk marketing practices in developing countries. I’m sure that doesn’t depress sales of Kit-Kats and Yorkie bars one bit, though.

And what’s Coke doing in there? Sorry boys and girls, for all your tender investment in clean athleticism, those grubby practices in Third World countries have not gone unnoticed.

Next up, “All utilities companies” at number 8, on account of their high prices and perceived profiteering. But two deserving special mentions here are British Gas – with its conspicuously bad customer service; and BT – with its ineffectual overseas call centres.

Virgin Media is in there at number 8 as well, although I have yet to discover whether this is because we’re all being beastly to Beardie or on account of some graver underlying cause – such as woefully inadequate service.

That leaves us with McDonald’s at number 4 – poor quality food and an inappropriate Olympics sponsorship, apparently.

…And, weighing in at number 3, the nation’s unfavourite retailer – Tesco. Memo to Tesco CEO Phil Clarke: it’s because you’re too big for your boots, despoil our high streets and blackmail your suppliers. No other retailer can do this so successfully, it seems.

  1. Which companies or brands make you feel angry? 
  2. What is it they do to make you feel angry?
Rank Company or brand
1 All banks’, ‘Banks’
2 Barclays
3 Tesco
4 McDonald’s
5 BT
6 British Gas
7 Royal Bank of Scotland’, ‘RBS’
8= Virgin Media
8= Utilities’, ‘Energy companies’
10= Nestlé
10= Coca-Cola

The research was commissioned by Johnny Fearless and carried out by YouGov. Total sample size was 2077 adults. Fieldwork was undertaken between August 3-6th 2012. The figures have been weighted and are representative of all UK adults (aged 18+).

Johnny Fearless is a Soho start-up agency founded by Paul Domenet and Neil Hughston, whose stock in trade is creating “social crackle” around brand messages. Or so it says in their publicity blurb.


Admen watch out: health Bannism is back

April 16, 2012

It’s been a while since the medical profession got onto its high horse about banning the promotion of fast-food and soft-drinks brands.

But now, sensing the increasing vulnerability of the Coalition Government, it’s charging straight for the breach.

The militant assault comes from the Academy of Medical Royal Colleges, an umbrella organisation which can count on the (at least passive) support of 200,000 doctors. It’s being directed by the academy’s vice-president Professor Terence Stephenson, something of a zealot in these matters.

Specifically, Stephenson wants:

  • A ban on brands like Coca-Cola and McDonald’s sponsoring major sporting events such as the Olympics. Carling, sponsor of the Carling Cup, also comes in for some harsh words;
  • Prohibition on the use of celebrities or cartoon figures in promoting “unhealthy” food and drink to children;
  • A safe area around schools, free from fast-food outlets;
  • “Fat taxes”, as in Scandinavia, levied on such foods;
  • Much clearer labelling on the calories, salt, sugar and fat contained therein.

Same old, same old, you may say. And you would be right. This is the “Bannist Tendency” making a not-very veiled attack on the Government’s proclaimed policy of collaborating with industry via so-called “responsibility deals”, which emphasise self-regulatory restraint rather than expensive-to-police and often-ineffectual red-tape.

When I say “ineffectual”, I should qualify that. In the short term, the proposed bans might well have a debilitating effect on commerce without achieving concomitant success in combatting national obesity. Longer term the strategy is tried and tested, however. It amounts to demonising fast-food and soft drinks in the same way the medical profession has managed to demonise smoking. At this very moment health secretary Andrew Lansley, the arch-proponent of industry “responsibility deals”, is contemplating stripping the last vestiges of marketing support from the tobacco industry with a ban on branded packaging. That’s what, in a generation’s time perhaps, the medical profession would like to see happening to Big Food brands.

Reducing the amount of salt, fat and sugar in our diet is of course a commendable aim, and it is right that the medical profession – of all special interest groups – should embrace it. But is it also right to equate the variable impact of HSSFs on our health with the addictive and truly pernicious effects of smoking? There is a matter of degree here, which does not seem to be adequately reflected in the uncompromising messianic fervour of the medical profession. Or, rather, some of the zealots who seem to have hijacked it.

Stephenson himself is a case in point. He may be an eminent paediatrician, but he also harbours some eccentric views. Among them, that second hand smoke (from tobacco) is a significant contributor to cot-deaths. He is also someone who clearly lives in a bubble blissfully sequestered from the inconvenient realities of commercial life. Here he is on the subject of football sponsorship:

“For adults, beer is a source of calories. I like going to a football match and drinking beer, but it’s the high-profile sponsorship that means that every time we mention this trophy, we mention in the same words Carling Cup.” So, let’s ban it, eh? Personally, I’m all the way with Stephenson on renaming it the “English Football League”. Period. But I do wonder where all the extra money is going to come from if we prohibit the likes of Carling, Coca-Cola and (heavy heart, here) McDonald’s from investing in sports events.

Surely, a little more personal responsibility exercised over how many HSSFs we ingest at any one time, not to mention how much exercise we take, are more salutary – and certainly less puritanical – solutions to the national obesity problem?

And, if we’re going to consider banning any advertising at all, what about reviewing the wall of money Big Pharma spends on targeting the medical profession?

Now there’s an unhealthy relationship.


IBM shows what a clever clogs it is at analyzing social media trends

November 22, 2011

Did you know that the height of a woman’s heels is a reliable indicator of economic prosperity? Neither did I. I’d heard of champagne sales, the availability of London taxi cabs, the length of skirts. I’d even devised my own indicator: counting the number of recruitment advertising pages in Marketing Week during a certain week of January. But this one I had never come across.

What might be dubbed the Jimmy Choo Indicator is brought to us by those clever folk at IBM Global Business Services. Clever because, besides uncovering some heretofore abstruse economic trend data, they have also hit upon a skilful self-promotional ploy which scores on at least 2 indices. Not only have they dug up a mediagenic piece of insight (which is after all the business they are in), they have also creatively exploited social media to garner their predictive data. Which should impress clients present and prospective no end.

Ah, you say sceptically, but isn’t this just a flim-flam gimmick that doesn’t stand up to more rigorous analysis?

I’ll leave you to decide. Here’s more on the inverse correspondence between economic growth and the height of fashion-shoe heels, courtesy of the IBM website:

A look back at the last 100 years of shoe fashion trends reveals that heel heights soared during the most prominent recessions in U.S. history.  Low-heeled flapper shoes in the 1920s were replaced with high-heel pumps and platforms during the Great Depression.  Platforms were again revived during the 1970s oil crisis, reversing the preference for low-heeled sandals in the late 1960s.  And the low, thick heels of the 1990s “grunge” period gave way to “Sex and the City”-inspired stilettos following the dot-com bust at the turn of the century.

But what of the future? According to IBM GBS consumer expert Dr Trevor Davis, an analysis of the last 4 years of social media shows a potential deviation from trend:

Discussions of increasing heel height peaked towards the end of 2009, and declined after that.  For example, key trend-watching bloggers between 2008 and 2009 wrote consistently about heels from five to eight inches, but by mid 2011 they were writing about the return of the kitten heel and the perfect flat from Jimmy Choo and Louboutin.  This is not to say that the sky-high heels have gone, rather that, as the economic downturn has worn on, they are discussed as glamwear and not for the office or shopping trip.

That’s one way of putting it. Alternatively, fashionistas are just as confused as the rest of us about the direction of the global economy, and are simply hedging their bets.


EC chief will sanction eavesdropping online if admen agree to behave themselves

October 22, 2011

Ever heard of Robert Madelin? The chances are you have not. Don’t worry, it won’t hold you back in life. Unless you happen to be a major advertiser or senior advertising executive. In which case, you should be ashamed of your ignorance.

Forget the Bailey Report, forget erotically charged images on posters. The frontiers of commercial freedom have already moved to a more strategic battle-front. One where the weapons of choice are electronic spies and surveillance.

If advertisers win this battle, the prize is very great. Using what is termed “behavioural targeting” – (sometimes “behavioural analytics” or “online tracking”, but let’s call it BT for the sake of simplicity) – they will be able to plot the course of any internet journey an individual ever makes. True, they won’t be allowed to know that individual’s real name, date of birth or physical address. But they will, by inference, be able to draw over time an incredibly intimate portrait of his or her most heartfelt material desires.

BT is, or rather will be, infinitely more valuable to advertisers than their best current tool, contextual advertising – which relies upon careful targeting of web-page content rather than anything known about the disposition of its visitor. Andrew Walmsley, a noted industry expert on the subject, is in no doubt that BT will supplant demographics-based contextual advertising:

We’re still going to see demographics used online, but principally so it can be benchmarked against other media. But, just as we sometimes hear the Fahrenheit temperature given on the weather forecast, it’s really just for the old folks.

His article is, by the way, a useful reminder that not all BT is the same: there are at least six varieties, of varying potency.

So, win-win: bring it on. Except, of course, that BT is deeply invasive of individual privacy. Technically, it relies upon access to an electronic spy – a special kind of cookie – planted in the heart of every individual’s hard-disk drive. Without consent, its exploitation could be considered not only an infringement of the Data Protection Act, but the wider European Human Rights Act. Many civil rights advocates would go further and invoke the shade of George Orwell. Unregulated, information acquired through online tracking could pass into the hands of shady, unlicensed third-party operators – for example, totalitarian-minded apparatchiks or deeply unscrupulous businessmen – with who knows what consequences for our civil liberties.

I come back to Madelin. Who is he? None other than the director general of Information Society and Media, European Commission (EC/INFSO for short). In other words, the senior civil servant in charge of the Brussels bureau concerned, among other things, with reconciling the needs – commerce among them – of the information society and EU civil liberties.

One of Madelin’s unenviable tasks is to act as ringmaster in the interpretation of a new ePrivacy Directive, promulgated in May this year but only fully effective from next spring.

A key bone of contention between the two warring factions he must conciliate – let’s call them “industry” and “civil society”, because that’s what they call themselves – is whether the new legislation actually requires “prior informed consent” being given to any organisations wishing to place or access files stored on a personal computer. And if so, just what definition is placed on the term ‘file’.

An extreme interpretation of these new rules would mean unmitigated triumph for the privacy lobby. Every time a cookie (not all of which are concerned with online tracking, of course) came up, it would have to be accompanied by a pop-up demanding instant consent or denial. Tedious in the extreme for the online user, and disastrous for industry.

The more nuanced civil society position seems to be an “Opt In” choice for the individual user, backed by  statutory legislation, but applicable only to those cookies capable of commercial online tracking.

Not surprisingly industry, whose position has been articulated by the Internet Advertising Bureau and something called EASA (European Advertising Standards Alliance), is having none of this.

It believes the civil society stance is flawed and naive. Specifically, the privacy lobbyists fail to understand that the free advantages we enjoy on the internet these days  – such as email, news, social networking, maps, entertainment – have only come about because they have been subsidised by advertising revenue. In this sense, BT is merely “the next stage” in a process which has been going on for two decades.

Worse, what lurks behind the civil society position is not so much a concern for advancing individual privacy as a profoundly hostile attitude to commerce – which is regarded as sinister and manipulative.

Industry is not arguing there should be no restrictions on BT, merely that they should be – you guessed – minimal and self-regulated; in fact, drawn up on the British ‘voluntary’ model of advertising regulation. It disputes that the “informed consent” required by the new legislation need be “prior”. Hence its adoption of what we might call an “Opt Out” strategy.

Put simply, the industry proposal amounts to a website where consumers can block online tracking by going through a long list of advertisers (those at least signing up to the IAB initiative) and clicking on check boxes. This mechanism will be identified by an icon appearing on sites where commercial tracking technology (particularly third-party cookies) is being used. And promoted along the lines of ‘better technology leads to a better life; but you, the consumer, remain in control’.

There is some doubt – even within the industry camp – that the IAB-devised plan will be enough to turn the trick on its own. Nevertheless, industry is becoming increasingly confident that is has won the day, barring a few concessions.

This confidence was backlit a few months ago by some extraordinary shenanigans in Brussels, when one member of the civil society faction stomped out of a Madelin-chaired committee meeting and subsequently accused Madelin of being “captured by industry“.

What this seems to mean is that Madelin has indeed come down in favour of Opt Out. But there will be a price to pay. It will include an open, independent, audit to which advertisers will have to submit themselves; total transparency (whatever that means, exactly) in their dealings; and an effective consumer tribunal for handling any complaints.

A key voice in all of this will be that of Chris Graham, the UK Information Commissioner and – as former chief executive of the Advertising Standards Authority – something of an expert on how the self-regulatory system works. (Purely coincidentally, the ASA is likely to be the UK  regulator if Opt Out prevails.)

Graham has yet to pronounce ex cathedra on the subject. But the broadly benign texture of his views can be gauged by a visit to the ICO website, where the talk is of the industry facing up to ‘transparency’ and ‘independent audits’.

My understanding is that the advertising industry is being given a few more months’ grace to define its regulatory position satisfactorily. Failing which, Madelin will move down the path to statutory legislation. As can be imagined, every sinew will be stretched to ensure he does not feel the need to do so.

Before leaving this convoluted subject, it might be of passing interest to hear what the punter, rather than self-appointed experts speaking on his behalf, thinks about BT.

Handily, McCann Erickson has just published a relevant piece of research under the McCann Truth Central banner. The study, which quizzed 6,500 people in the US, UK, Hong Kong, Japan, India and Chile, shows that people are indeed concerned about attacks on their personal privacy. But targeted marketing is way down the list of threats, the two principal issues being the security of financial data and the security of personal reputation.

McCann WorldGroup global IQ director Laura Simpson notes that:

65% of people around the world are aware of Web tracking and 44% are aware that marketers use it to determine the interests of consumers. “Many welcome it,” she adds, because they believe there is a fair exchange, including access to promotions and discounts and ads directed at them that are more relevant to their needs.

Then again, as one industry commentator on the article points out, that enthusiasm may be conditioned by poor understanding of how sophisticated BT actually is.


How far should advertising be allowed to airbrush reality?

August 19, 2011

When was the last time we had an old-fashioned row over the pernicious effect of advertising on bulging waistlines, cyrrhotic livers and diseased lungs? Well over a year ago, I would guess. Thanks to a change of political regime and, more importantly perhaps, a tightening of public purse strings, many of the advertising industry’s bêtes noires (for which read single-issue NGOs and pressure groups) have – for the time being – beat a retreat to their burrows.

One resilient exception is the vexed issue of airbrushing, which just won’t go away. Should our model images – whether celebrity or mannequin – reveal their true selves, warts and all? Or should they be allowed to convey, thanks to the alchemy of digital manipulation, an idealised perfection? And if the latter, where do we draw the line?

Vintage image manipulation: Henry VIII fell for it

It has to be said, this is not exactly a fresh issue. The vintage victim of visual misrepresentation was Henry VIII – who became understandably incandescent on discovering his bride-to-be, the svelte young Duchess of Cleves portrayed by court painter Hans Holbein, was in the flesh a wholly unprepossessing ‘Mare of Flanders’.

Much more recently, the charge has been led by Liberal Democrat MP Jo Swinson, who claimed L’Oréal’s scalp when she persuaded the Advertising Standards Authority that the cosmetics company had gone over the top in representing actress Julia Roberts and supermodel Christy Turlington as airbrushed examples of an impossible beauty.

Of the two, Henry had the better case: Holbein’s portrait blatantly lied. L’Oréal, on the other hand, might reasonably contend (and in fact did, in so many words) that it is in the business of portraying unattainable beauty: it sells a dream, not the fleshly reality. Swinson’s point, and presumably the ASA’s in adjudicating against the campaign, is that the images are of such unblemished perfection that young females – slavishly devoted to celebrity culture – will feel their own bodies wholly inadequate by comparison.

Strangely, what no one has done is to ask the target market itself. Until now that is. Out of Credos, the Advertising Association’s recently founded think tank, comes a new piece of research that tackles the attitudes of 10-21 year-old girls and their mothers towards advertising manipulation. On the face of it (the results have yet to be formally published), the mums seem a lot more outraged than their daughters, who display a cynical insouciance towards the whole business.

In a spirit of mischievous inquiry, AdMatters – the AA’s online house magazine – has decided to extend the parameters of Credos’ research to all comers. Equally mischievously, I pass on their proposal:

“We at AdMatters would like to conduct some research of our own. The Credos survey asked girls aged 10 to 21: which of the models below would you use in an ad aimed at “people like you”?

 


 

“Now we’d like to hear from you, our loyal readers. We care not what age or gender you are, merely that you are a person and buy things. Choose your favourite (1-4, left-right) and tweet @ad_association, with #bikinis. Results may or may not be published.”


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