When we were called by Emory University in 2008, their objective was clear: create a brand that helps establish Emory Dining as one of the top five dining programs in the country. So we met with their team in Atlanta, feasted on hand cut potato chips and learned a lot about what really defined Emory Dining: quality, diversity, freshness, a firm commitment to sustainability. It was a great program that needed a great brand, and we think that's what they got.
I’m in love with another man. There I said it. And not just any man, but The Most Interesting Man in the World. It’s been two years since Dos Equis debuted their dashing new spokesman. I’ve seen him presiding over “the real” happy hour amidst a bevy of cleavage baring admirers. Having an awkward moment just to see what it feels like. One night in a bar, I even found a coaster bearing the tale of the time he won a costume contest when he wasn’t wearing a costume. Like everyone else, I fell for his charm (so contagious they had to develop a vaccine for it). I couldn’t help it. The campaign was everywhere. And it was excellent. It drove me to arm-wrestle Stalin, to update my Facebook status with stolen one-liners (better believe I’m living vicariously through myself), and even, on a whim, to apply online to be his personal assistant. The one thing it didn’t do, however, was make me drink more Dos Equis*. All those entreaties to “stay thirsty, my friends” left me thirsting more for another commercial than anything else.
Then you have those boring Samuel Adams commercials about hops and brewery blah blah blah. I can barely remember what they said, much less repeat it verbatim. I have no desire to interact with the company in any novel way. But the last time it was my turn to buy beer, I decided to try some Sam Adams for a change.
So which is more effective – the ad that sells its product? Or the ad that sells itself?
*According to reports, the Most Interesting Man did successfully drive brand growth in core markets.
We want to know what food or topics you devour over the lunch hour. Share your lunch pictures or stories with us and we will share them with others in our new online video series “Blunch” set to air this summer.
Coming to you with a totally cool (literally) and truly awesome (literally) holiday moment. We have this client who we absolutely adore - Molly, from Sodexo, with whom we've been privileged to work with all year on cool stuff like this. So, knowing that she is a proud Buckeye, a true foodie, and very into the natural, local foods movement, Dina stumbled upon the most perfect gift ever - Jeni's Ice Creams, gourmet ice cream and sorbet that is homemade in her home state. Since she was out of town we had her delivery scheduled for sometime today. Today comes, and a Jeni's box shows up in OUR office. Naturally, we assumed it was some sort of terrible mistake. They flipped the addresses, or worse yet WE did. Then we opened the card.
At which point, Mark gasped, I screamed and Dina fell on the floor (literally, that's how she expresses extreme shock and amazement). The moral of the story? I think it's two-fold:
1. The best client/agency relationships tend to exist between true kindred spirits
2. Ice cream RULES!
Although there may be a Christmas tree on every street light post we pass on our way to work, the holiday for being thankful has not been lost in the twinkle and glitter of the holiday of thank you notes.
It is popularly believed that the first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621. Nearly two centuries later, Lincoln donned his top hat and named the last Thursday in November, Thanksgiving. However, it wasn’t until 1941 that Congress declared this day a national holiday.
As you can see, I’ve done
my research. Rather than follow the typical Thanksgiving code of posting
a list of people to whom we are grateful, my research has shown there
are other things to which we should show our gratitude. Namely: forks.
I doubt I need to clarify that life in 1621 was different from life in 2008. We now eat surrounded by the comfort of central air and heat. We listen to the football game rather than get an update from our mothers on the difficulties of dislodging a potato from tough soil. What you may not know is that in 1621, people did not have forks. They had knives, spoons, cloth napkins and fingers, but no forks.
So how did they cut their mealy game bird and venison? The simple answer is that they didn’t, not really. Hot food was picked up with napkins, food was piled onto knives and finger food had a broader definition. And as if that weren’t bad enough, the sentence, “Could you please pass the gravy,” had not been conceived. People could only eat the foods that were in reach, and depending on your standing in society, your fingers may never been given the chance of reaching out to touch burning, bubbling deer fat. Delicious.
When you gather around the table this Thanksgiving, giving thanks to a utensil may not be the best method of getting on your crotchety aunt’s good side. But secretly, as you relish the cranberry relish, you will know this meal was all made possible by forks.
For more information on the history of Thanksgiving, check out the History Channel’s website.
