Nobody has ever given me a nickname, so you may as well call me Chris Waters. I am co-founder, copywriter and part-time accountant at Condiment, a fabulous creative agency in Ipswich.
I’ve started a creative agency. Full-time. I have no job. But I do have a brand new company, some big dreams, and a bloody good business partner.
James and I have been working on the creation of Condiment for many months. We’ve had to keep it quiet, though. Not only because of contractual obligations, but because these things take time. And half-baked isn’t a good taste.
But now we’re ready to shout about it. The lease has gone through; the keys are ours. Computers are humming and … we’re still waiting for BT to connect us to the internet.
The incompetence of monopolies aside, though, we’re ready. And happy. And I thought I should let you know. Because maybe you’d love to give us some business. That’d be nice.
If you can’t give us any business. Perhaps you’d like to wander over to our website. At the very least it’ll boost the analytics and make us feel loved.
The purpose they serve isn’t, of course, that you can get everything in one place – you can get everything in a town centre or farmers’ market that you can get in a supermarket (nearly). And you don’t have to stroll around with the complexion of a heroin addict underneath all those fluorescent lights.
No, ladies and gentlemen. Supermarkets are brilliant because they allow us to form an opinion on the seven and a half million brands vying for our attention. Because in the throng of the supermarket (Side Issue: old people, don’t go shopping on a fucking Saturday. You’re not welcome. You’ve had all week to trundle around the aisles bemoaning the effect inflation has had on marmalade. Not in my time, please.) …
Where was I? That’s it: In the throng of the supermarket, I have neither the time nor the inclination to compare the average cost of a baked bean, sheet of toilet paper, or millilitre (there’s a word you don’t see written down often) of piss-weak lager. I pick Heinz, Andrex and Carlsberg.
Heinz because they probably invented baked beans. (And if they didn’t, I don’t give shit.) Andrex because a cute little Labrador might run in and cuddle me after a sweaty poo. Carlsberg because it’s probably the best lager in the world. (I find ‘probably’ is certain enough in most situations – except during marriage vows, I suspect.)
These opinions are etched into my minuscule, toxic brain. Every decision is a snap one when I’m in the supermarket.
So here’s an idea: Market Research Mondays. Because if the inane twerps who insist on compiling these silly brand indexes (or ‘indices’, if you’re being pedantic) really want some qualitative data, just ask opinionated twerps like me. And let’s make a night of it. I can grumble with like-minded miseries while performing this weekly dash of frustration. Bring a fucking clipboard.
Tropicana: Nice but expensive – I’ll buy it if it’s on offer. No, I don’t give a shit whether it’s ‘with bits’ or ‘no bits’; I’m not eight years old or a complete simpleton.
Kellogg’s Cornflakes: Every day of the week! Have you tried supermarket branded cornflakes? They’re revolting. I wouldn’t feed them to my cat. She’d disown me. And rightly so.
Heinz Tomato Ketchup: Of course. I never trust people with unbranded condiments. Would you feel safe getting into an unbranded car? It’s the same thing with condiments. Those unbranded viscous squirts could be anything.
He writes with the tone of a man that’s very well read. To quasi-paraphrase Bruce Springsteen, you could probably learn more from David Hepworth in ten visits to the pub than you ever learned in school. Not in a Johnny Ball Reveals All kind of way. More a well-rounded and worldly type of learning.
Now, as I mentioned, I don’t know when or why I started reading David Hepworth’s blog.
And this got me thinking.
Who was that referrer? Who was the person that pointed me in the direction of this terrific little blog? And have they got any more good suggestions for me?
But I don’t know. I don’t know where or when I made the clickthrough.
I could sift through my browsing history, but I spend half my life on the internet and frankly don’t have the time or the inclination to do that much sifting.
So I suggest a Firefox extension that records which site referred me to a particular site for the first time. I’m no programmer, so wouldn’t know where to start, but I’m sure there’s some clever bod out there that could create something to fit the bill.
I spoke about this with James and he suggested going a few steps further and plotting some kind of hierarchical tree of referring sites. I guess Google would come out top (through search). But as soon as you take Google out of the loop, it’d be interesting to see which sites have come portals to lots of interesting information on the web. Let’s call it ReferTree. (An ounce of research shows there’s already a social network called this, but meh.)
Maybe you could opt to share this information, too. So lots and lots of data could be crunched and more charts plotted. That’d be interesting.
A typewriter doesn’t make you technophobe.
A deerstalker doesn’t make you a hunter.
A personality doesn’t make you a personality.
A white cat doesn’t make you a Bond villain.
A stupid idea doesn’t make you stupid – it just might make you original though.
Okay, so most of us are pretty familiar with 0845 numbers and 0870 numbers. But I don’t know how much it costs to phone them. Do you?
Is it free? Is it standard rate? Is it premium rate? Is it variable? Actually, what is standard rate?
I, personally, don’t have a clue. But I phone 0845 and 0870 numbers.
And you probably phone them too.
You might be more informed about the cost of these calls than I, but your knowledge of telephone numbers is probably no better than mine. What number is the gas man? Sky? Your insurance company? Amazon support? Domino’s pizza?
A smart arse replies: “But I have the number for Domino’s Pizza stored in my phone!”
And why do you have it in your phone? Because you can’t remember it. Because in this crazy world, you have to remember five passwords, four pin numbers, three french hens, two pairs of keys, and the drawer you left your passport in. So Domino’s gets left behind. So does your car insurer. So does one of your relatives.
No brain space + no idea where to find the number you need = Google search.
And then search wins. Because maybe you don’t tap a brand name into Google. Maybe you tap in a generic term, and pick your company from there.
Action. It’s so bloody important. If you’re going to chuck money at grabbing people’s attention, creating interest, and developing a desire – why skimp on the action? Why hide your telephone number in the corner? Why make people fill in web forms when they could send you an email in half the time? Why not get them to pick up the phone and call you?
And why the hell hasn’t some massive multinational bought the telephone number 0800 123456? For all the silly money they spend on branding, why not buy the most memorable number since 999?
I’m a complete bore, so I phoned 0800 123456. And it’s available for rent! Phone it if you don’t believe me.
If I was the company who owned 0800 123456, I’d lend it to Comic Relief. Can you remember last year’s Comic Relief number? No. Even though Terry and Fearne said it every fucking minute of every tedious hour, you can’t remember it.
But you’d remember 0800 123456. And you’d think, ‘why hasn’t anyone else ever used this number?’
And businesses would think the same. You’d get loads of enquiries, and end up selling the number for a fortune. You’d be helping charity, too.
Just a thought.
(I’ve opened comments if you’d like to point out how stupid my ideas are.)
Six months ago I was unemployed – I’d been made redundant by a company that made every decision by committee (except my redundancy). To be honest, it was a relief when it happened. I still hate them for their cowardice, though.
But that’s not the point. The point is that I didn’t have a job. So I spent all day on the internet, looking for jobs, writing blog posts to get noticed, and generally having a good think about where my poxy excuse for a career was heading.
One day, I stumbled upon Flamingo International. According to their website, they do research, thinking, and strategy. I was sitting around all day thinking, so getting paid to do it seemed like a good idea. Fortunately, they were taking applications.
To be considered for a job at Flamingo, you had to write a few words about The Next Big Thing.
This is what I came up with:
Imagine a London Underground map that showed passengers by time of day. Planning your journey becomes a whole lot easier.
Imagine the map of a department store that mapped customer journeys. What’s the busiest point in a store? What time of day? Planning promotions becomes a whole lot easier.
Imagine you could view a map of your town based on traffic. How would that affect where you wanted to live?
Maps. They’re the next big thing.
Not traditional maps. Traditional maps show an area. New maps show traffic in that area.
By tracking movements of people, maps become more useful.
Mobile phones, they’re the key. Nearly everybody has one.
Using mobile phones, track the movement of people around houses, shops, towns, airports. Whatever you want.
Privacy? Well, the signal doesn’t necessarily need to tell anyone what number the phone is. Anonymous tracking is fine, we’d still be measuring traffic.
And when people choose NOT to be anonymous, things get interesting.
“Where’s Mum?”
“Oh, she’s in town. With Grandma.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s on the golf course. Playing with three other people by the looks of things. Oh, one of those people is Uncle Dave.”
“Are you going to the party tonight, cos I’ve no idea how to get there?”
“Yeah, leaving about seven - track my movements”
“Will do, cheers mate.”
“What time’s Bill getting here?”
“Just a sec… oh, he’s on Wallace Road, so two minutes away.”
Track people. Track people in cars. People on trains, planes, and boats.
I live in Ipswich, and let’s assume that I’m going to drive to Manchester tomorrow. Imagine if I could track people who had travelled from Ipswich to Manchester in the last few days and find out what routes they took.
Imagine if I could get stats on people who drove to Manchester versus people who took the train. What were the cost implications? What are the environmental implications?
Miles per hour. Pounds per hour. CO2 per mile.
Whether you’re making personal decisions or business decisions, interactive maps with traffic flows become incredibly useful.
Follow the route of your average customer around your shop. What do you see that they see? How can you change and improve things? How long does your average customer stay for? What areas do they visit more than once? Are they static for a long time in certain areas?
Tracking movements online has long been possible. Tracking people offline is getting easier.
Maps are about to get clever.
Flamingo International never did contact me. Perhaps I wasn’t radical enough. After all, this technology was always bound to surface at some point. But they did say Next Big Thing
And when someone does put up, it’s worth mentioning.
Swanfest is this weekend. Three days of live music and DJs in a little pub in the middle of Ipswich. The pub is called The Swan. Everything becomes clear.
I’d like to consider Damo - the landlord - a good friend of mine, although I haven’t okayed this with him yet. And what he’s doing is quite remarkable. They’ve got wristbands, programmes, t-shirts, and even VIP passes (of course I have).
Two of my best friends - Danny and Katie - are hairdressers. Brilliant hairdressers, in fact.
This means two things:
Looking this good costs less.
I don’t go into salons much.
I went to Katie’s salon today though. It’s spanking new and pretty swish. So swish in fact, I could’ve had a glass of cold Budweiser while my barnet was being chopped.
I questioned Katie about how they get around licensing laws. Turns out that you don’t buy the drink; you rent the glass. The drink is effectively free.
They don’t make a profit on it either; it’s done for the benefit of the customers.
Which is pretty cool I think.
It demonstrates that not every element of your business should make a profit. Some elements that only break-even are worth talking about.
So what about if you made a loss? What if those drinks were absolutely free? What if I was brought a cold Budweiser without even asking for one?
Cold Budweiser, sir?
Yes please. I’ll happily drink it, relax during my haircut, and then tell all my mates about your salon. Never underestimate how much blokes talk about the time I got a free beer.
I know of companies that give away £10 vouchers if you refer your friends to them. Why not spend £10 giving a service worth talking about?
Imagine there are twenty-five people in a room. You’re about to open a great new shoe shop and you want to know what size shoe most people want to buy. You pass around a piece of a paper and everyone writes what shoe size they want to be stocked. If you take everyone’s opinion into account and do a bit of maths, you’ll get an average shoe size.
Similarly, you can take an advert for your shoe shop into that room of twenty-five people. You pass it around, let everyone have their input, and make changes based upon that input. The result is exactly the same: you get an average advert.
