In a world where time is of the essence, the infographic is king. Unfortunately folks sometimes try to squeeze waaaay too much info in an infographic. I mean, if I'm staring at it for more than 2 seconds trying to figure out what you're trying to say, I might as well be reading a paragraph (heaven forbid!) At least then I'll feel confident that by investing my attention for 13 more words I will be rewarded by knowing your (hopefully) coherent thought.
The infographic du jour is from Design Taxi, and it is an interesting snapshot of colors of logos. When I was working at MSN, the network undertook a redesign. They thoroughly tested their various design templates, and the conclusion was... blue. Still. Again. "People like blue." This apparently is true (check out the infographic below), but does that make it memorable? Moreover, is is reflective of your brand personality? Does everyone like the person who is trying to please them, or do they more admire the person who expresses who they are, living in the moment, being genuine?
(Those weren't rhetorical questions. Feel free to answer them.)
I'm still looking at updating my portfolio, and today I dug up an advanced predictive piece that was drafted five and a half years ago. It was grounded in hours (or minutes) sitting cross-legged in my tent gazing into my crystal ball...foretelling the far-distant future of... Web 2.0.
I was looking at updating my portfolio site recently, and flipped through the archives. One of my favorites is one that's a few years old—a campaign for Intel, in conjunction with Dell. It consisted of an email, print ad, a set of banner ads and a landing page. The offer was a free backpack for the back-to-school season.
What's so great about this particular ad? It's simple. (I mean, the concept is simple, the design is simple, the copy is simple, the call-to-action is simple. Thus, the answer is simple, too.)
It's been a year since I last posted, and it had been quite some time since the previous post as well. Life tends to get busy, especially with a kid and all that other life stuff. It's like the children's book The Mitten. Your life gets full, and just when you think it can't get fuller,something else wedges its way in.
It is the thick of summer and the rain is dumping, I tell you, d-u-m-p-i-n-g. From my 20th story window I can see two cruise ships docked at Elliott Bay. I do wonder what all the out-of-towners think? "Oh, it rains in Seattle." Yes, it does, but not like this. I actually saw lightning on my drive this morning. I have not seen lightning in years. It's a special occasion. I'm actually happy about the rain! I love it, especially when it's a break from summer heat and sunshine.
If you're looking for a marketing musing, then I direct you to a local establishment, which was picked by AdWeek for the Ad of the Day - Museum of Glass.
So... I've been busy at work with a simultaneous product-launch-website-launch-corporate-rebrand-oh-yeah-and-let's-reorg-while-we're-at-it event. Hence radio silence for the past couple of months. Energy all focused on those things.
Within that, I did write a few case studies. Here's one.
The ad world is abuzz with the Wieden + Kennedy ad for Chrysler during last night's Super Bowl. I am struck by how bold a move that was.
A. Lot of time to fill. On the one hand, long form copy is easier to write than short form. You can take a little time to get to your point, and you can meander around any nuances you want to make. But that's completely different when it comes to television. I picture being the creative director whose lap receives this plum assignment. First thought: "HUGE opportunity. Hooray for me." Second thought: "Oh, fuck." B. Not cheap. "Less than $9 million" for 2 full minutes. Which means more than $8 million. That's a lot of room to fail. Not to mention production costs. C. The flip side of "lots of room to fail" of course is "lots of room to succeed." Which I suspect they have done. D. "Imported from Detroit." Just brilliant.
The life of a freelancer is like a teenager learning to drive: full throttle, screeching halt, full throttle, screeching halt… Ad infinitum. When it’s slow, you’re dying for some throttle, and when you’re at full throttle, of course you’d give anything for a break.
I’ve been pleasantly full throttle for two months now, which makes me very optimistic about the economy. But also is currently leaving me depleted. Which is why I had to remind myself to take a breath.
If you're like me when you’re swamped with new projects, it's very easy to procrastinate on that much-needed battery recharge. "Well, only another week and then this project will be done. I'll take a break then." But the day before you deliver the project, something new comes up, or there's a last-minute addition that means you have another week's worth of work. And no break. What to do?
Take a breath.
And I've learned that one breath is not enough. I can’t tell you the number of times when I've said, “I need to take a moment.” And I take exactly that: one moment. And then immediately get wrapped up around whatever was on my mind in the first place.
I utterly missed the point of the exercise, n'est-ce pas?
So take seven and a half of those giant gulps of air. Seven and a half is the designated number because it's not a neat, round 10 or five: you will get a little bit out of your head just by keeping track of the count. And keep doing it until your mind has wandered on to something delightfully meaningless and irrelevant to your immediate work. (If you are afraid you're going to forget something important, you should be keeping notes written down somewhere other than that tightly wound brain of yours).
Lastly, it never can hurt to ask for time. I got an email from a designer three days ago inviting me into a project she’s working on. "The copy's not right, and I’ve gone back and forth with the client several times. We could really use your help. He wants to launch on Friday." I emailed the client and said I couldn't get to it for a week, fully expecting he'd go find someone else. Instead, he said no problem.
