Here's the latest in the Electric Luxury debate. I shot this in Hong Kong in May with John Flatt producing and Moray Wedderburn directing. You can see me getting out of the enormous Phantom and walking into the Peninsula Hotel - not a bad way to spend and afternoon. More at the campaign site, www.electricluxury.com

We’re in the process of renovating our house (I say ‘we’, really it’s my better half who’s doing all the hard work). In the alcove in our bedroom (which was painted a new shade I’ve christened ‘Yoda Green’ there was a nasty up-lighter. It was still there when she started painting the room but when the electrician took it down, Yoda appeared. Little things, little things...



The Pushmi-Pushu doesn’t know where it’s going. It doesn't know what it’s doing. But it pushes and pushes and pushes on blindly, in the vain hope that it will get somewhere.

Quite often it's so busy pushing it fails to notice the cliff edge and plummets over the edge. (Huzzah!) Sometimes it succeeds in pushing until everyone else is backed up against the wall and just gives in. (Boo!)

You’ll find the Pushmi-Pushu at home in meeting rooms. Quite often there's a herd of the blessed things, grunting and sweating, trying to out-push each other.

You’ll recognise their distinctive cry: “Weneedtohaveameeting”, which they repeat until you give in and let yourself be shoved into a windowless room where you'll spend the next three hours wishing you hadn't agreed to it.

Classic behaviours include total deafness when you use the word ‘No’; the ability to change their minds constantly; the ability to be oblivious to anyone else's opinion. The scientific community recently discovered the Pushmi-Pushu's brains are very small and are located in their hindquarters.

If you see one, hide. If you can't hide, slump over your Mac and play dead. It’ll eventually go and find someone else to hassle.



I've been working on a global automotive launch for 14 months  many, many different cuts of the TV commercial, lots of different music mixes for different markets as well as print and outdoor executions and we're on the verge of launching it next month.

We were sitting in a music suite the other day and the editor asked me to make a decision on something. There was a long pause. I could no longer see the wood for the trees. He laughed when I said I was suffering from 'production fatigue' and was all out of clever things to say. Sadly I was serious.

Projects that run for a long time always throw up this issue  the challenge is keeping a pair of fresh eyes in your pocket (as the Dutch say). Not easy when you¹ve seen the same edit or piece of copy hundreds of times. And it can lead to huge (not to mention expensive) cock-ups when a sufferer misses something vital.

I'm not sure what the cure is. I've always tried to remind myself when I'm feeling that way to try to see things differently; to concentrate and not be blinded by the familiar. Remembering how I first envisaged the idea and the excitement it caused usually helps too.

How do you deal with production fatigue? Any thoughts welcome.

My whole working life I’ve been hunting for ideas, sometimes more successfully than others. It can be a joy or sheer hell.

What I’ve learned over the years is pretty simple. The blank page never gets less terrifying – there’s always the nagging voice in the back of my head that repeats: “This time you’re going to fail”.

I’ve also learned where to look for ideas but also that you have to be patient.

The hardest part is to trust that the ideas are out there and you’ll find them. Eventually. You may have to look under a lot of rocks, take a lot of showers and stare out of the window till the right one turns up.

Learning to fill your mind with the problem then forget about it. Eat dinner with your wife; play with your kids or the dog; watch junk on TV. Whatever lets your subconscious do its thing.

You have to sneak up on them. Or let them sneak up on you. Catch them from the corner of your eye or dream them.

And when you have one that’s really, really good, don’t let it go. Hang onto it for dear life. Nurture it, play with it, feed it to make it grow big and strong.

And if you catch one that’s the runt of the litter, don’t be afraid to let it go. There’s always another one lurking in the shadows, waiting for you to find it.

I’ve noticed that deadlines tend to flush them out too. That’s the time when the nagging voice gets louder. Don’t listen to it: keep your ears open for the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves, the sound of an idea trying to sneak away through the undergrowth…

This is where Mr London’s club comes in. Throw yourself at it, lasso it, nail it down, make it yours. Sometimes you might get lucky and catch a whopper, other times a runt. Either way, you’ve got an idea of sorts to help you move forward.

A few years back I ran a big pitch for a piece of COI business. There was a lot of pressure and I worked on it for a month. I worked between Christmas and New Year and even on New Year’s Day to get the pitch sorted. The pitch was the first day back after the holidays and we won the business hands down.

The next day, the client called to confirm we’d won but told us we had to change the execution. My art director and I were exhausted, we’d put down our clubs and we’re looking forward to a little R&R. But instead we had to roll up our sleeves and get out in the woods again.

And nothing came. Zip, zilch, nada.

After four or five frustrating hours and a lot of heartache, I took him to the local Italian for dinner and a break. Over plates of pasta and a bottle of wine we talked about all sorts of things but not the campaign.

And suddenly we had a third guest at the table. An idea had snuck past the waiter and was eyeing my lasagne.

We grabbed it, gave it a good feed and made it presentable. It was a long night. And at 2pm next day we let it out of the cage in front of the client.

Their response? “This is even better than the pitch. How did you do it so fast?”

The answer was down to the fact we’d been thinking about it for a month. Our tired brains were primed and ready to go; we just had to leave them alone for a bit.

The great thing was, it not only delivered the results, it also won some awards.

So step away from the layout pad, order the pizzas and see what ideas come looking for you.



This is a beautifully simple idea. I hope the campaign makes a real difference. Nothing else to add.

I'm working on some TV commercials for Gala Bingo and while we were kicking ideas around I remembered this campaign for Geico insurance in the US. This is the original Pips, taking the train to Happy Town - particularly enjoying the guy on the left. Great branding, dull product, very clever idea. There's no reason to use the Pips or anyone else they've featured - they even apologise at the start of it - but they add the pzazz that makes it work. Cue Cadbury's Gorilla - no reason for a drumming Gorilla but it worked, unlike the follow ups that felt like the poor cousins, more of which another time. I hope it worked for Geico. This with Peter Frampton (see below) that always makes me smile too. Enjoy.