Post Rugby World Cup final, I decided to lose some weight which had crept up on me over the last couple of years (reference: 30 months ago I was 80kg, and got to 93 last month). After getting a strict system sorted out for me by Jay at Bodytech, I announced my month-long mission at work which quickly prompted money being thrown around, bets laid, bravado blustered, and challenges set forth.

It was tough but not revolutionary in any way, and took considerable will power, discipline and a healthy dose of fear –  I refused to become a fat, bald forty something creative director wearing a slobby slogan t-shirt. Lean meat, fresh veges, no alcohol, six Vitawheat crackers a day, fruit, and lots of fizzy water to give my body the illusion of being full. I measured portions on scales every day, and weighed myself every morning. I endured coming home to a wonderfully fragrant house filled with baking I could not enjoy. I drank water at the movies while others licked ice-creams. I bought bottles of wine for everyone but me. I was afraid to go out because it invariably involved drinking, eating or coffee, none of which I could enjoy. I did go out for a drink with my friend Nick and sat there drinking sparkling water while he regaled me with stories of cuckoo clocks and film commission horror stories, which I was transfixed by a) because they were interesting, and b) it meant I wasn’t thinking about his beer or my empty stomach. Instead of socialising I mainly visited the supermarket, often. Party time. I went from hating grocery shopping to looking forward to wandering down the aisles, imagining tastes, possibilities, ideas.

It was half difficult, half satisfying, coping with a breakfast of one solitary apple, 210g of natural yoghurt and an espresso (and am now completely satisfied with that as a full and satisfying brekky). While pleasantly surprised by the size of my other meals, there was always a sense of constant hunger, until the pain just became a part of my day. One day I drove home so hungry it honestly felt as if I had been stabbed in the stomach. The hunger made me quite absent minded at nights when I would run out of gas, forgetting names of stuff like forks, bottles and… things.

I did it to lose weight, but also to shock me out of my lazy, gluttonous lifestyle. And changes started happening quickly. Although often tired (I am a father of two with a full on job), I no longer had energy peaks and troughs from eating carbs and sweet stuff. I have never slept better.  I was forced to learn about preparing fresh food, flavouring bland veges with herbs, the joy of cinnamon and the magic of balsamic and olive oil.  You appreciate the things you can’t have: at an agency lunch, I sniffed a Peroni – it smelt like flowers. I ate Tuna for the first time in my life and had fish (usually snapper) at least six times a week with the help of some butter and Soy sauce (allowed in the diet, oddly).

I couldn’t have done it without a wonderful supporting partner, my wife Jude, who happily fended for herself when I was so obsessed with exact portions that to cook for two was too hard. She comes from a family that quite rightly centres life on food, the preparation of it and the conversation around it, so it was also a challenge for her;  ironically the experience has made me appreciate this way of living even more than I already had.

I occasionally went off-piste with my strict diet in the most pathetic way possible. At night, I would eat a single raisin just to taste something sweet. I often had a second espresso, partly because I love coffee and partly to get things going in my digestive system… if you get what I mean.

And then it was over (well, it wasn’t that simple, there were many long dark tea-times of the soul, to quote Douglas Adams). I missed my goal of getting to an even 85kg by 150 grams. But good enough. It was thanksgiving in the US so, being an american agency, we did a little celebration with proper New York pizza from Sal’s, and a box of beers. I ate two huge slices and felt full. I ate half a cupcake with cream so rich it was nauseating. I drank half a US beer and put it down – although that may have been a taste issue, or lack thereof. I was literally frightened of carbs having eaten half a small pastry and felt ill in my stomach. I got over it pretty quick that evening out with some mates and celebrated with 6 Macs Golds and a bowl of hot chips.

Will it last? I don’t know. This morning I had an apple again for breakfast and I’m about to make a Tuna Salad. I do weigh 1.5kg more than I did yesterday already – that’ll be the beer and pizza. My lifestyle has definitely changed, and I don’t want to get back to where I was. So I’m getting another diet plan from Jay and we’ll see how I can maintain this thing.

I’d like to lose bits of my fat without losing bits of my life.

(For the record, I didn’t win the bet. Simmo, or Slimmo as we call him, lost a whopping amount – 13.8kgs. When I met him just over a year ago he was 115kg. He weighed in at 82.25 yesterday. All hail the champion!)

A sound that plays at the beach to remind people to reapply sunblock. Particularly attractive to porcelain white people like me.

Nike Chalkbot / Wieden & Kennedy Portland

Messages of hope for Cancer sufferers, printed on the road for cyclists to see during the Tour De France. Armstrong is probably a drugs cheat, but his fight with testicular cancer still has resonance.

Puma Social / Droga5 NY

Anti “win at all costs” advertising, beautifully written and shot. A great ad, but a brilliant strategy.

Skittles Touch the Rainbow / BBDO Toronto

How to resurrect a campaign that was starting to jump the shark. Takes the piss out of “interactivity” but is probably the best example of it today.

New Old Spice Guy Fabio / Wieden & Kennedy Portland

Another good way to breathe new, beautifully scented life into a tiring campaign. This ad in particular just makes me envious.

Jay – Z/Swiss Beatz – On to the next one / dir: Sam Brown

On the basis that a music video is basically an ad for a musician, this is right up there. Sam Brown is without doubt the best clip director around right now. Beautiful imagery, menace, controversy.

Arcade Fire – Wilderness Downtown / dir: Chris Milk

Actually an ad – a Google Chrome experiment. Great blurring of lines, and a wonderful unity of technology and emotion. Will no doubt be clunky in a year or two but of it’s time, brilliant.

http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/

VW Fun Theory / DDB Stockholm

Brand values, positively expressed, practically embodied.

VW Darth Vader / Deutsch LA

Just when you though Star Wars gets wheeled out a little too easily, comes a brilliantly directed spot. 44 million YouTube hits can’t be wrong.

Canal+ Bear / BETC Paris

Funny. Predictable in places but a nice, perfect little reveal at the end. The soundtrack almost ruins it, but I’d proudly put it on my reel.

BONUS AD

Canal+ Wardrobe / BETC Paris

Probably the best TVC in the last three years. There, I said it.

And it’s true to an extent. Some people can’t resist the urge to buy from the shopping channel or eat huge portions of processed food under the guise of enjoying extra value. Advertising created the idea of extra value, so advertising must be to blame. The messages are everywhere, so how can we resist if the constant onslaught of advertising noise persistently beats us down into a zombie state of submission?

Obviously not everyone considers advertising a noble profession, and people are alluding to the ad world’s lowly status when they say these sort of things. For many, advertising is down there with insurance companies, lawyers and Wall Street traders. Fair enough, because such industries are perceived to prey upon the weak impulses of people or selfishly profit from human fear or insecurity. Even when advertising does a positive thing like raise money or awareness of an issue or grow a business to create new jobs, we are still suspicious of manipulation and being told how to feel.

But the truth is that everyone is in advertising. Everyone is selling something to the best of their abilities. Every day you show your best side to people to gain approval, acceptance or a job. Your CV is a print ad (or online ad) and you are engaged in the commerce of a product you dearly want people to desire: you.

You don’t walk up to someone in a bar and tell them right away you have, say, irritable bowel syndrome. You show your best features, that you love kids, bike riding and cooking. Your family is a good one. Over time, you show more of yourself to the other person, who has engaged with you because they like what you showed them. You snore a bit (that’s sweet). You aren’t very good at DIY (endearing). You could have better personal hygiene at times (not ideal, but you’re so sweet they’ll let that slide, after all, that’s just a part of you!). Then when you are “an item,” that person has effectively bought into the brand image you chose to project. As long as that brand is true and well intentioned, a later, tender admission brings understanding and support.

Sure. A corporation has responsibilities to be honest about its products and services, and it certainly should never lie. And in today’s advertising world, honesty and even admission of imperfection has much more power than it used to, primarily because people are tired of being sold and bullshitted to. But in order to show your best side, it comes down to at least an initial, edited and selective story you wish to tell. This means hiding imperfection and weakness in a world where nothing is perfect. It’s about getting ahead. It’s how the world works.

Advertising is not something that just happens at us. It’s a creature made by us, the impulses we have, and the desires we harbor. It can clearly influence human desire. But human desire is the basic engine behind the idea of advertising, not a helpless victim of it.

CDs: Corey Chalmers & Guy Roberts

Writers: Corey Chalmers, Bob Moore, Mike O’Sullivan

TV Director: Mark Lever, Sweet Shop

Digital Director: Matt Von Trott, Assembly

Digital Production: Jose Alomanja, Andrew Simpson, Anna Rose Kerr, the guys at Assembly

As extreme wealth perpetuates a bitter, angry underclass, so too does the advertising awards industry create its own particular gargoyle: “Anonymous.” Put a new campaign up on a blog and Anonymous will quickly knock it down. This is an almost immutable truth: even if nine comments are positive, the tenth will say they’re wrong, or that the other nine were planted by the people who did the work anyway.

One reason for the existence of this angry punter is, in part, award shows, which are effectively a distortion: that the exemplary work in them is a fair representation of what advertising is, and thus the parameters by which all else is judged. No matter that the work is less than 1% of the entire industry output; indeed, some award-heavy executions are so elite in their excellence that no consumer is even deemed worthy enough to have seen it, but are still lauded accordingly.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with aspiring to excellence. An industry can’t move forward without the constant drive of endlessly unachieved aspirations, and every profession is rife with jealousy and judgment. The ad industry is a high achiever in this regard – particularly partial to the odd snide aside and bitchy attack, because ultimately it is a creative business, and creativity exists hand in hand with the blight of the inner critic.

Anonymous is the inner critic’s voice. Disdain is its game, damnation its goal, a sense of righting the injustices of the award jury elite and its cronyism, a chance to have a crack at a Creative Director’s latest campaign without the possibility of burning a bridge should the same CD later offer them a job. We are much braver behind the veil of anonymity; much in the way we have more bravado yelling at unknown drivers from the metal comforts of our own vehicles. It’s just safer that way. And the antithesis to creativity is fear.

At best, it’s harmless venting. At its worst, harmful vitriol, and with Anonymous comes another, resulting distortion: that the negative skew of the comments quickly becomes a “realistic” view of how the work is perceived, and thus the definitive one of how good the work actually is. This is like saying the people who bother to call talkback radio are the arbiters of gospel truth and the common sense of the common man. But it’s easier to moan than to praise, isn’t it?

It’s this lack of effort that lies in the dark heart of Anonymous. It takes no effort to criticize, and lack of effort is likely a consistent trait of their careers and the resulting output, in turn fuelling a bitter heart in a downward spiral. They probably don’t jump through the hoops, take the knockbacks, watch their dream change as the client’s realities hit hard yet carry on with the hope of still doing a career-defining piece of work. Anonymous just speaks from on high, defecating from a great height built on imagined perfection, distorted beliefs and at times suffocating idealism.

They might believe that they have chosen to be “Anonymous” and it is their right to remain so.

But it’s more likely that their laziness and disappointing careers simply decided that for them long ago.

The old theatre line “if it ain’t on the page, it ain’t on the stage” rings true whether it’s David Mamet’s latest taut masterpiece, or Tracy the account manager’s brief for new improved Wheaty Bites. But take a look at the majority of ads around you. Any memorable lines? Resonant insights? Emotional journeys? The results suggest all is not well in creative brief world.

In my career I could count the number of great briefs I’ve received on one hand – if I was an amputee. I’ve worked with many talented accounts people and planners with great smarts and vast intellects, but the “great brief” has been as elusive as a polar bear wearing a white tuxedo in a blizzard – attractive, yet impossible to enjoy. The quality of these thinkers is unquestioned yet the imaginary great single-minded proposition remains unattainable. Which makes me wonder if we’re actually looking for the right thing.

Bill Wright, group creative director of Crispin Porter + Bogusky, recently told me the unique way in which his creatives have to present their work: before an idea hits the table they have to show the press release for it. It’s a great thought. If the idea isn’t interesting enough to garner press, it’s probably not worth the bother at all.

And that’s the point: it’s not enough to be single-minded any more. We need to look at what we’re saying and ask that although the SMP may be single minded, is it in fact even remotely interesting?

We all know the fractured, multi-level, media fragmented, twitter-booked channel diverse world we live in. And the battle for consumer attention is so muddied with variety, screens and noise that it won’t be the loudest that win our hearts – only the interesting will survive. That’s why the Speight’s boat is a great idea. It was interesting and original. Cadbury Gorilla was polarising but undeniably fascinating. Yellow Treehouse created a beautiful architectural statement that ultimately rendered the traditional advertising secondary.

I’m not saying that by interesting, I mean wild, random and whacky. All these examples were grounded in relevance; the boat trip is really about mateship and loyalty at any cost. The gorilla was a lateral metaphor of the almost primal bliss and joy of chocolate. The treehouse restaurant was made purely from services found in the Yellow Pages. And in each case, the agencies found something interesting to say.

So that’s the question we need to ask of every brief, and it has two excellent advantages: it forces the writer of the brief to think, which is where the good ones earn their money. And it forces the client to interrogate whether what they’re selling is actually worth spending their money on in the first place. Harrison Ford said of George Lucas’ scripted dialogue on the set of Star Wars: “You can write this shit George, but you sure as hell can’t say it.” So make sure you can say something so interesting and resonant that it would make even R2D2 sound like Laurence Olivier.

It’s a Hexadecime. Our digital creative Anna has the idea of going through all your pics (eg on Tumblr etc), picking the consistent colour schemes, and then represent them in a sort of data visualization kind of way.

It sounds random and fun to look at. It could also, as Anna rightly points out in her own blog, be an interesting application for Resene or American Apparel (although the latter is probably more interested in staying solvent and running ads that easily qualify as soft porn).