I've got danglers, shelf-talkers, poppers, posters, cart cards, clings, pole-signs and tear pads to do. AND dual-sided neckers.
These 'elements' need to be 'bold, conversational, modern and breakthrough'. The brief says all 'pieces' should be are aimed at activating male consumers 18-25 who may or who may not have tried this product and may or may not even be curious about it.
The benefits of this product are: it tastes good,( if you like this sort of taste), and some professional athletes (they're in talks for sponsorship) might drink it too.
I'm ashamed to say, though I got here at 8:00, I'm not exactly on a roll.
This is when I have to ask myself the hard questions:
Am I bold, conversational, modern and breakthrough?
Bold?
Yes. When I went to the ladies room earlier I felt like I was taking a tour inside someone's colon. I made bold coughing sounds that I'm sure the guilty party heard. That's bold. (Also childish. Sorry).
Conversational?
Are you fucking kidding me? I'll stop by your cube. You won't get anything done, but boy, will we have fun!
Modern?
Well that's a tricky one: I do own 2 Eileen Fisher sweaters, but for the most part I know the new 'music', I've tweeted, watched stuff on YouTube and I know how to knuckle pound people and say 'HOLLAH' when I want someone to call me. And, I checked into the hospital on 4Square.
All day long I sit here, trying to do my best. I pull out all the stops: I look at Lurzer's archive , Google things, stop by Expedia to plan my next post-gig vacation (I always assume I will be at a job 'until the end of the year', even if it starts in January). I don't have that Clio Feeling, but I do dream big.
I sit in what's known as the 'Freelance Village', a wonderfully rustic tangle of cubes and wires surrounded by lush window offices with doors, (so we know there is natural light, it's just not for us).
The Window Office People like to have their conference calls with the door just a little bit open, so it's like we're also on the conference call...for diapers, (even if we're working on ___).
I can tune it out pretty well, but then I witness a call so personal in nature I can't even write a single dangler.
A pregnant woman has her 'Birthing Coach" on speaker. They discuss placenta, pumping, caesarians, epidurals, dilation, bladder pressure, rectal thermometers and downy hair on the belly.
(Sorry, but no, I do not own noise cancelling headphones, counter to my 'day rate'. Hullo? It's 2011, no one makes THAT anymore).
After this the place is buzzing with yak.
There's calls with loud, hearty, 5 minute goodbyes.
Calls to Zappos customer service about those new Ugg boots in a 9 1/2.
Calls from Mommy asking the nanny if Holden liked his gluten-free lunch.
Appointments are made for facials, golf classes, life coaching, legal assistance, anger management and new jobs. Spouses are tersely blamed for everything they haven't done. Dinner decisions are made (Pad Thai vs. 'that chicken thing').
I tell myself to tune it out, breathe and I try to will some quiet to surround me inside and out. I feel like crying and wish I had some pudding.
Then this full-timer, let's call him 'Lance' bursts in carrying a bag of falafel (that smelled like curried diaper) and an iphone that was 'blowin' up!'.
His cube was in the very center of our town. He was like the village elder. Only he looked 22.
As a freelancer, I can't say anything snarky to Lance out loud, because Lance is an up and comer. He's gone on photo shoots. He's gotten free t-shirts. He's even got a wacky nickname: 'Lance A Lot'!
But I'm not so sure he Does A Lot. But he makes it noisy and it goes like this:
1:45: Lance plays with his Nerf Dart Gun.
3:00 Lance watches the Jennifer Lopez Fiat commercial 5 times in a row on YouTube.
3:45: Lance crunches down a Big Gulp size cup of crushed ice.
4:20 Lance announces it's 4:20.
4:22 Lance dissapears and says 'righteous' when he returns at-
4:45 Lance says 'like' 35 times in one hour.
5:00 Lance really reeks of weed.
5:14 I'm freaking out.
Then it hits me, Lance, is the target consumer. Research! And so, I have a bold, modern conversation with Lance and ask him for some tips and he gives me this:
"A sweepstakes would be cool. For like a movie premiere tie in? Or a bundle of ___and salsa. Oh! Wait! You could do a tie-in with football and use football words like 'eat ___and tackle the fun.'"
Clearly, Lance will be my boss someday soon.
I have a great review after which Lance and I sneak into the alley on the way out of the office so I can 'watch' him roll a doobie with one hand.
When the gig is up I give Lance my leftover Lysol Wipes and a Starbucks gift card, (he is 'all over' the new Salted Caramel Mocha) pack up my 'free' pens and hit the avenue
Then, I schedule my very first colonoscopy for my bold, modern, conversational ass.
No, not over speakerphone.
These 'elements' need to be 'bold, conversational, modern and breakthrough'. The brief says all 'pieces' should be are aimed at activating male consumers 18-25 who may or who may not have tried this product and may or may not even be curious about it.
The benefits of this product are: it tastes good,( if you like this sort of taste), and some professional athletes (they're in talks for sponsorship) might drink it too.
I'm ashamed to say, though I got here at 8:00, I'm not exactly on a roll.
This is when I have to ask myself the hard questions:
Am I bold, conversational, modern and breakthrough?
Bold?
Yes. When I went to the ladies room earlier I felt like I was taking a tour inside someone's colon. I made bold coughing sounds that I'm sure the guilty party heard. That's bold. (Also childish. Sorry).
Conversational?
Are you fucking kidding me? I'll stop by your cube. You won't get anything done, but boy, will we have fun!
Modern?
Well that's a tricky one: I do own 2 Eileen Fisher sweaters, but for the most part I know the new 'music', I've tweeted, watched stuff on YouTube and I know how to knuckle pound people and say 'HOLLAH' when I want someone to call me. And, I checked into the hospital on 4Square.
All day long I sit here, trying to do my best. I pull out all the stops: I look at Lurzer's archive , Google things, stop by Expedia to plan my next post-gig vacation (I always assume I will be at a job 'until the end of the year', even if it starts in January). I don't have that Clio Feeling, but I do dream big.
I sit in what's known as the 'Freelance Village', a wonderfully rustic tangle of cubes and wires surrounded by lush window offices with doors, (so we know there is natural light, it's just not for us).
The Window Office People like to have their conference calls with the door just a little bit open, so it's like we're also on the conference call...for diapers, (even if we're working on ___).
I can tune it out pretty well, but then I witness a call so personal in nature I can't even write a single dangler.
A pregnant woman has her 'Birthing Coach" on speaker. They discuss placenta, pumping, caesarians, epidurals, dilation, bladder pressure, rectal thermometers and downy hair on the belly.
(Sorry, but no, I do not own noise cancelling headphones, counter to my 'day rate'. Hullo? It's 2011, no one makes THAT anymore).
After this the place is buzzing with yak.
There's calls with loud, hearty, 5 minute goodbyes.
Calls to Zappos customer service about those new Ugg boots in a 9 1/2.
Calls from Mommy asking the nanny if Holden liked his gluten-free lunch.
Appointments are made for facials, golf classes, life coaching, legal assistance, anger management and new jobs. Spouses are tersely blamed for everything they haven't done. Dinner decisions are made (Pad Thai vs. 'that chicken thing').
I tell myself to tune it out, breathe and I try to will some quiet to surround me inside and out. I feel like crying and wish I had some pudding.
Then this full-timer, let's call him 'Lance' bursts in carrying a bag of falafel (that smelled like curried diaper) and an iphone that was 'blowin' up!'.
His cube was in the very center of our town. He was like the village elder. Only he looked 22.
As a freelancer, I can't say anything snarky to Lance out loud, because Lance is an up and comer. He's gone on photo shoots. He's gotten free t-shirts. He's even got a wacky nickname: 'Lance A Lot'!
But I'm not so sure he Does A Lot. But he makes it noisy and it goes like this:
1:45: Lance plays with his Nerf Dart Gun.
3:00 Lance watches the Jennifer Lopez Fiat commercial 5 times in a row on YouTube.
3:45: Lance crunches down a Big Gulp size cup of crushed ice.
4:20 Lance announces it's 4:20.
4:22 Lance dissapears and says 'righteous' when he returns at-
4:45 Lance says 'like' 35 times in one hour.
5:00 Lance really reeks of weed.
5:14 I'm freaking out.
Then it hits me, Lance, is the target consumer. Research! And so, I have a bold, modern conversation with Lance and ask him for some tips and he gives me this:
"A sweepstakes would be cool. For like a movie premiere tie in? Or a bundle of ___and salsa. Oh! Wait! You could do a tie-in with football and use football words like 'eat ___and tackle the fun.'"
Clearly, Lance will be my boss someday soon.
I have a great review after which Lance and I sneak into the alley on the way out of the office so I can 'watch' him roll a doobie with one hand.
When the gig is up I give Lance my leftover Lysol Wipes and a Starbucks gift card, (he is 'all over' the new Salted Caramel Mocha) pack up my 'free' pens and hit the avenue
Then, I schedule my very first colonoscopy for my bold, modern, conversational ass.
No, not over speakerphone.
