Sir Martin Sorrell – a fit and proper Olympic torch-bearer?

July 10, 2012

“Millionaire at centre of ‘fat cat’ row will carry the Olympic torch through streets of East London” howled the Daily Mail, in one of its ‘world exclusives’.

Downpage, there were 57 varieties of indignation from the good folk of the north-eastern London borough of Redbridge, all queuing up to express their disgust and dismay at the soiling experience of having someone not themselves carrying the sacred flame through their hallowed land.

Charlotte Law, 19, was typical (of Daily Mail reportage, at any rate): “I would be much better at carrying the torch than him. At least I’m from around here. Did he have to apply like everyone else? I don’t think so. It’s a disgrace.”

And you could sympathise with her. The bastard. He may have given up his £20m bonus rights, but here he was trying to worm his way back into the big time by wielding an Olympic torch.

But no, not Bob Diamond. It was someone most of them had never heard of, until coached by Mail hacks. Some bloke called Sir Martin Sorrell. Something to do with a big advertising company and a scandal. He’d asked for much too much money (don’t they all?) and been told he couldn’t have it.

We don’t want his sort round here. Michael Aldridge, a 51-year old care worker, summed it all up: “It goes completely against the Olympics spirit, but it’s not about that any more, it’s about money.”

Let me put you right on that, Michael: it always was. Even in ancient Greece, where a prodigious amount of vicious cheating and betting invested the quadrennial games like a swampy miasma. Come to think of it, the Olympic Torch Relay itself isn’t exactly of blameless historical pedigree. It was introduced in 1936, just in time to fanfare the Nazi games. The Nazis were very good at that sort of thing.

But, coming back to Sir Martin, what is it – precisely – that he has, or hasn’t, done to qualify as one of 8,000 bearers of the Torch? Well, behind the scenes, he has since 2005 been giving a good deal of his valuable time to promoting and supporting, pro bono, the London Olympics. And, as if that weren’t disqualification enough, he has actually been asked by the International Olympic Committee in Switzerland to carry the torch!

Outrageous. You know Sir Martin’s problem? He’s not one of the Little People – except of course in the literal sense. He’s one of them, the elite, who rule our lives. But then, the last I heard, the Olympics – motto: Faster, Higher, Stronger –  is all about elitism. It’s a gladiatorial contest where the best man – and woman – always wins. How inegalitarian is that?


Rosenfeld’s wretched road to Mondelez

March 22, 2012

By and large, corporate life is no laughing matter. One exception – and a cause of bottomless mirth at that – is the pompous business of corporate name-minting.

Latest in a long line of jokes is “Mondelez International”. What, you ask? It’s the new monicker for the Kraft spin-off snack business which will shortly be headed by Irene Rosenfeld, after offloading the lumbering US grocery business onto poor old Tony Vernon.

One of Vernon’s few high cards will be the fact that he retains the Kraft name which, whatever its downmarket connotations, has the merit of being agreeably monosyllabic and memorable.

If only we could say the same for Mondelez International. Why, oh why (as The Daily Mail might put it) couldn’t it take the Cadbury name? After all, organisationally and with the exception of a few Kraft legacy brands such as Oreo, Mondelez is the ex-Cadbury company. It faithfully maps Cadbury’s emerging markets strategy and, if it is to achieve the higher margin growth commonly associated with the snack sector, that will in no small part be due to the dominance of Cadbury brands within its portfolio.

Instead of the instant mnemonic, however, we have the instantly forgettable “Mondelez”. Apparently, this was dredged up from an exhaustive trawl of 2,000 ideas – fashionably and inexpensively crowd-sourced from Kraft employees. The ultimate choice was, in fact, a portmanteau word derived from one suggestion fielded in America and another in Europe. Which probably tells you all you need to know about Rosenfeld’s imaginative powers. Camel, horse, committee anyone?

On second thoughts, however, I’m not entirely convinced by this folksy little conceit of hers. “Mondelez” has about it a strong whiff of corporate ID specialist. Allegedly it’s a bit of cod-Latin, derived from a hybrid of mundus (world) and delectatio (delight or pleasure), which is more readily understood by substituting the French modern equivalents “monde” and “délice”. Note the subtle potential French wordplay – Mon délice – perfect but for the fact it is grammatically incorrect, délice being feminine.

What does all this remind you of? Yes, right first time: Diageo, Altria, Aviva and most memorable of all – for the wrong reasons – Consignia. All of these rejoice in being bland latinisms (although Diageo sounds all Greek to me – dia, “through”; geo, “world”: but let’s not get pedantic about it). It seems a curious irony that at a time when interest in classical languages is at an all time low, corporate identity specialists have turned their abuse into a high art form.

And, in their earnestness not to create offence by minting something more meaningful, have often achieved laughable results. Take Aviva for example. On one reading, it could mean “Without life”.

As for Mondelez, which Americans clearly have difficulty in pronouncing, I shall leave you with the wise words of Sharon Shedroff, founder of San Diego consulting firm Strategic Vision Inc:

“Until the brand is established, it will be difficult for people to give it meaning in the US and probably in Asia. Brands under it, like Oreo, could lend credibility to Mondelez.”

So why go to the trouble and expense in the first place?


Nation shocked to its marrow by sexy Marks & Spencer lingerie ad

November 30, 2011

Warning to all advertisers: the merest suggestion of female carnality in a public place will now be punished by a rap over the knuckles from the Advertising Standards Authority.

The regulator has holed a second high-profile brand below the waterline. Last week it was Unilever’s Lynx. This week it is – wait for it – Marks & Spencer.

M&S corrupting our youth? That bastion of frumpy, middle-class, Daily Mail-reading Middle England? Whatever is the world coming to? Next, they’ll be banning mince pies.

And yet, there it is in black and white, in the ASA’s official rescript: M&S is “socially irresponsible” because it has plied us with a “sexually overt” ad.

The ad in question is one of two which ran on bus-sides during September, featuring models sporting M&S’ most gossamer lingerie – and little else. To forestall complaints about gratuitous sexiness (unsuccessfully as it turned out), M&S decided to gloss the posters with a “filmic” finish – ie, it blurred them slightly. The ASA conceded that the context was relevant to the sector (how else do you display lingerie on a poster – on a washing line?). It also acknowledged that M&S had taken considerable care not to make the models’ poses too provocative. But it drew the line at one particular execution:

We considered that the pose of the woman kneeling on the bed was overtly sexual, as her legs were wide apart, her back arched and one arm above her head with the other touching her thigh. We also noted that the woman in this image wore stockings.

Shocking, a glimpse of stocking. You have been warned.

Mind you, it’s probably time someone brought M&S to book over its increasingly licentious conduct. Not a Christmas seems to go by these days without saturation scheduling of M&S’ most sexy models parading their underwear on our television screens.

If only M&S spent a little less money on its models and a little more on tarting up its far from glamorous interiors, perhaps we would all have less to complain about.


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