Ground Control To Colonel Sanders

Nowadays, inspired creativity usually lands on our laps. Whether we get our news from the people we follow, curated content or maybe – like me – still enjoy a good old bookmarking app, like Feedly, grandpa. Other times, we seek it out. Searching, sifting, going down rabbit holes, until we stumble upon something truly marvellous. Sometimes, however, you have to go to Haywards Heath.

After a trip to the Ouse Valley Viaduct (if you haven’t been, go), a stop off on The Heath high street lead me to walk past a certain chicken-in-a-basket joint called KFC. In the window, a poster for their latest volucrine offering: The Supercharger. And on it, the almost magical line:

Leave space for it.

(Respectful silence)

On the weekend that ‘Our Tim’ returned from the International Space Station, this creative from whoever-it-was at Ogilvy won the English language. All copywriters hung up their pens, fingers and keypads. The creative industry permanently closed its doors for business and an ornate ten foot marble full stop was hand carved to mark the spot.

Tactically placed six sheet, near KFC London Road

Like, mildly tolerate or vehemently loathe the brand, this tactical ad for KFC is rather splendid for many reasons. It speaks of the now; for those tuned into Tim Peake’s return, they’ll get it, and – if they’re inclined to frequent KFC – maybe get a burger, too. It speaks for the hungry; requesting that for those who want to, leave space in their wretched little tummy. And it speaks to the greedy; requesting that for those who want to, post massive great chicken filet down their burger hole.

After seeing Mr Peake wolf down a zero gravity tinned bacon sandwich on the tellybox (admittedly created by Heston Blumenthal, but come on, it’s still a TINNED BACON SANDWICH) without any actual mention of, or endorsement from, the astronaut himself, you can quite easily visualise him being jettisoned at 28 800 km/h towards his final dubious goal: KFC.

Stick a fork in the copywriter, they’re done.

Instagram's community vs Instagram's commodity

Instagram is my favourite social network. There. I said it. After Initially giving it short shrift (from years of shooting on film I HAY-HAY-HATED retro-filters) I caved, accepted then embraced the ‘nice network’ after Twitter became Troller and Facebook became, well, Facebook. So it’s with knitted brow that Instagram are introducing a new ad model which will allow brands to post carousel-style ad stories on the timeline with links to web content browse-able within the app – much like Twitter and Facebook.

Now, I’m not a frikking idiot. I know a network can’t run 40 million posted images a day on good vibes alone (“unless you’re owned by Facebook!” someone shouts from the back of the internet) so something’s got to pay for the servers. And short of convincing a social generation raised on freemium to subscribe or make micropayments every time they post a picture of their breakfast (guilty), advertising is the obvious choice.

Since the rollout last year of promoted posts, Instagram became a bonafide brand platform and it’s since been noticeable how user engagements with brand accounts are increasingly done so in a way more akin to Twitter. For example, to celebrate Red Nose Day British Airways posted a joyous picture of their record-breaking highest gig in the sky from last year. Amongst all the fan love responses, one awkward, chilly off-topic question relating to an alleged BA association to animal welfare violations cut through the warm glow on the timeline like a hornet at a child's summer party.

At first this interaction seems a bit weird, given that the platform primarily converses with pictures. But not so weird when you look at YouTube: a platform that primarily converses with video but whose below-the-fold commentary reads like an irascible 70s teenager with Tourettes. It’s this tricky, brand-baiting, PR managed reality of paid-for which could be the turn-off for the people who helped lovingly build the network in the first place – the same cornerstone community whom Instagram is constantly celebrating.

It’ll be interesting to watch the balancing act between community and commodity as the network becomes more sophisticated but I really hope it succeeds in managing both. After all, it’s arguably the one big network left where one can converse daily and be surprised, inspired and feel genuine positivity without having to suffer misanthropic bellends as you do so.

…a knockout cover story

Times change but often simple truths remain. George Lois, that controversial copywriting art director raconteur creative magpie powerhouse of Manhattan's ad land enclave Madison Avenue - and on whom Mad Men's Donald Draper is supposedly based - was interviewed for the excellent 101 Episode of the 99% Invisible podcast. The topic of discussion was the fine art (or science) of magazine cover design. Nowadays we have rules based upon insight and metrics and eye tracking and user testing to help better understand consumer behaviour, in turn driving the decisions made about the design of covers which grab the attention of dawdling consumers loitering around newsstands like freshly shorn sheep standing stunned in a spring mist. Lois didn't have all this. What he did have, however, was an innate ability to understand consumer behaviour coupled with a third eye for impact.

Amid the gelatinous modern noise of physical magazine covers undulating before us at the train station, the corner shop and the supermarket, there's the unmistakable sound of a million digital devices being stroked and ogled in unison as the latest in digital written content is covetously absorbed.

The magazine is DEAD.

Or if it's not quite dead, it's DYING.

Or if it's not quite dying, the sun's setting and the vampires are waking up and brushing their teeth in their caves.

Their CAVES.

Or that's what we're lead to believe; that behaviour has been disrupted to such an extent that Eve can't put back the healthy bite she took from her Apple, Kindle or preferred digital device.

In the interview, Lois is adamant that "when you look at a magazine from twenty feet away it should knock you on your ass" which, given the rules to how a successful cover should work in 2014 (George Clooney looking you in the eye, a litany of blurbs, 100% yellow type, digital delivery) his rationale, you'd think, may not be so applicable. Even on the podcast they chose to fade out Lois mid-flow, editorially framing his opinion as the heated rant of an old guy out of sync with the zeitgeist. Love him or hate him - a bit harsh.

So on a trip to the supermarket I was pleased to feel a small pang of vindication for old George when across the lobby, betwixt the haranguing noise of ambient consumerism and the jostle of publications on the newsstand, Starburst Magazine popped out from twenty feet and pulled me over - simply by placing a big bold illustration of Kermit the Frog on the cover. However, for the record, I didn't fall over.

It could be argued that without those very same cover design rules which make one magazine blur into another, this particular edition of Starburst may not necessarily have stood out. But it did. So there you go. Times change but often simple truths remain. Whoever created it understands the same rules of creative design for which George Lois argued his case - and a very significant case it still is.

...Julian Koenig

If you can't tell a good story, nobody's going to listen. So if your job is grabbing the attention of millions, you'd be forgiven for making everything sound flipping awesome. Something cover star of the latest It's Nice That has no trouble with; George Lois - self professed saviour of both Esquire Magazine and MTV and all-round purveyor of hot shit advertising. He's a captivating voice alright, and as the editorial preface of issue 6 recognises (in more eloquent prose than my own), the colours of a bent truth are often more engaging than the black and white of fact. But like all great stories, there's often more to articulate anecdotal gymnastics than meets the eyes, ears, nose and throat (one for all the doctors in the house).

If you're 'in the business' or enjoy US-centric podcasts, chances are you're already on this like stink on a monkey. Reading the piece on Lois reminded me of a rather fantastic episode of This American Life #383 - Origin Story, in which a second player in the legendary 'Mad Men' period of advertising, Julian Koenig, is given a well-earned place in the spotlight, revealing his important but often overlooked part in the story. It's an amazing listen. I've already said enough.

Download the podcast from iTunes or This American Life's website. And if you're feeling generous, donate here to continue This American's long Life.

...quality ingredients

...this self-fulfilling NatWest matchbook