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Monday, July 16, 2012

Model behaviour


Service is a great barometer for our time. Through economic downturns, technological upturns and corporate u-turns, the changing approach to customer service can be read like a newspaper. I wrote last week on the Moving Brands blog about O2's successful little foray into Twitter-based crisis management, which you can read here. But it was a recent trip to Westfield Stratford - all dolled up for the Olympics - that attuned me to another shift in how brands are are using customer service to cope in today's climate.

"Models protect and project the image of the brand through personal style, providing customer service and maintaining presentation standards" - so runs the job description for sales assistants, known as 'models', at Gilly Hicks. This purveyor of beachwear, 'cute bras' and 'down undies' is the "cheeky", faux Australian cousin of Abercrombie & Fitch. Like A&F and its other (probably backward and almost certainly unsafe around small animals) cousin Hollister, GH caters to buff teens roaming free with their parents' credit cards. Like all stores in the A&F chain, they appeal to their impressionable customers through 00 sizes and stores that are loud, dark and thick with the richly perfumed undertones of consensual rape. 






When A&F opened in the UK in 2007, it drew a line in the sand for service design. Harp on all you like over how there was something distinctly 'not cricket' about they way they swanned into Mayfair, stripped to their smalls and started a roaring trade that sex-ed up a once dingy end of Burlington Arcade. Nevertheless, it's impossible to deny that the all-American customer service that came with it was in stark contrast to the stiff pleasantries of Saville Row. It marked a new era for British retail - as people fled online, great customer experiences were the only thing to keep them in-store. Following A&F's lead, many UK retailers woke up to the value of a more touchy-feely sales experience.



In 2012 at Westfield Stratford, however, Gilly Hicks appears to be doing a weak doggie paddle in the swirling tides of socially-driven commerce. I was greeted by a hungry-looking tween, muttering something about 'welcome....beach......cute...something something'. At check out (research, research!) I was handed my receipt and told in a bored monotone "Don't forget to follow Gilly Hicks on Twitter for all the cutest bras and cheekiest tanks.". I've had dental work sold to me with more excitement.


Forging great relationships with customers through social platforms is key for retail brands moving forward. As Mercedes-Benz CEO Steve Cannon said in a recent Fast Company article, "[youth] perception is going to drive perception of the brand... In order to win, you have to know who they are. That means digital, social, and all the things we are doing". And, for the young audience Gilly Hicks is looking to attract, bridging that gap between online and in-store is critical. Only through on-brand  customer service and socially-driven messaging can this happen and, right now, their 'models' are seemingly too busy ignoring hunger pangs to start a meaningful conversation for the brand that can continue online. 

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Brand Bedales

It’s not always with the clearest vision that one can look analytically at the formative factors of your lifestyle choices - the culture, brands and rituals that act as the ‘nurture’ overlay to one’s ‘nature’. But having recently watched the final installment of Grayson Perry’s ‘In the best possible taste’, and my ten year reunion occurring this Saturday, I feel enough time has slipped by to look at Bedales.

Most haven’t heard of Bedales School - why would they? It’s just a small, secluded boarding school in the Hampshire countryside. But those that have are often in no doubt of its reputation. From nude mixed bathing in the 1930’s, to underage, drunken threesomes just last year, Bedales has always represented the rebellious underbelly of public schools. A key theme in Grayson’s analysis of the British upper classes was “appropriateness” - something Bedalians (and more importantly Bedalian parents) flaunted their derision of with aplomb. While I remember sitting through many a school assembly being ordered never to consider ourselves “privileged”, I would argue with hindsight that ‘inappropriate privilege’ was the driving force behind everything Bedales did and said.







Bedales attracted two disparate ‘tribes’. In one corner were the deviant aristos - the infamous ‘bad seeds’ unlikely ever to be writ large on their sprawling family trees or immortalised in oil and hung on an ancestral mahogany stairwell. To them, Bedales stood at the furthest end of the shabby chic continuum as a way to reject their aristocratic identity without any of the tiresome day-to-day parenting encouraged by the state education system. Bedales represents the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to the family name by spending the last of the inheritance on preposterous school fees so Tariq could bake artisan bread, roll incredible spliffs and fail all his A levels.



In the other corner were the princes and princesses of the Rock and Roll establishment. The insanely good looking offspring of The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Pogues, The Clash, or those with suggestive surnames like Paxman, Dahl and Day-Lewis. This lot came at it from a different angle - they may have had loads of money but it was all new money - the very worst kind of money. To Rock and Roll parents, Bedales was an easy and fast way to buy into a very specific type of wealthy bohemia. Grayson Perry describes this lifestyle as being “like a play set in the 20s, on lovely misty lawns with decorated swans” and, with its sprawling grounds and moss-covered buildings Bedales offered up just that. 



As a brand, Bedales did a fantastic job of appealing hugely to their two target audiences. It had everything a luxury lifestyle brand requires - a compelling heritage, a distinct reputation, an ownable aesthetic and, most importantly, a price tag which made it both aspirational and exclusive. As students, we were the brand's greatest assets and the expectation to fall in line with its values was high. And what great ambassadors we were - directing plays, digging ponds, and indulging in narcotics, eating disorders, alcohol and sex like they were chocolate buttons. Hogwarts on meth.






There’s a line in Absolutely Fabulous where a furious Eddy chastises her daughter for being studious and “normal” with the line “When I think of the schools I sent you to darling, I mean BEDALES for God’s sake!”. The comment implies that being a Bedalian makes you a certain type of person and, to a certain extent both negatively and positively, it does. As a teenager it’s comforting to be totally “on-brand” and “on-message”. After ten years, however, I like to think it’s just a small part of who I am - a streak of rebellious, inappropriate ‘nurture’ running through layer upon layer of nature.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Desert Island Digital: Ariane Schick

On this week's Desert Island Digital my castaway is Ariane Schick. Ariane is currently a Masters student at the Royal Academy in London, having studied previously at L'Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris. She works in a range of mediums - always with a beautifully evocative sense of colour and space. Ariane is bi-lingual, an adventurous traveller, a wonderful crepe maker and one of my oldest friends.


Here's her choices for life on the island.

One tweet upon arrival on the island:

I would tweet a picture of the Twitter bird, whose real life doppleganger has been living undiscovered on the island.


One app:

Shazam. So I could Shazam island sounds in the hope that one day it might recognise a mix between a bird song, the trees rustling and coconuts falling as a song.


One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:

Does Tuttle tweet ?


One album on Spotify:

Wagners Ring Cycle because it's long.  



One photo:

I don't have it yet but a picture of a very scary animal so I can flash the picture when in danger, until my phone dies that is.  


One YouTube video:



One digital luxury:

I'm not sure if this is really digital or a luxury but a loo roll dispenser that doubles as iPod speakers ? 

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Dark with something more than night

Cool little collection of films here to indulge in over the bank holiday, sent to me by Giles Phelps last week. Giles is a one time resident of LA who, back in the day, spent many a hour with my Father - tearing up a city where the night smells of lust and depression, the wind sounds like a Raymond Chandler line, and 'on location' never counts...








Sent in response to a new film made my dear friend, the ferociously talented Rex, for Design Studio/Nokia.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Desert Island Digital - Whurley


On this week's Desert Island Digital my castaway is Whurley. Whurley is the co-founder and GM of Chaotic Moon, an Austin-based mobile application studio. Chaotic Moon helped to create the world's first tablet-only publication The Daily, and recently devised the Board of Awesomeness - a motorized longboard custom rigged with a Microsoft Xbox 360 Kinect device.   


Here's his choices for life on the island.

One tweet upon arrival on the island:
@whurley

#lost
(I think it would be funny to tweet you were lost from an island like lost because...well trust me it's funny)

One app:

Age of Booty. 'Cause it's awesome amounts of endless fun created by all of my coworkers at Chaotic Moon and it would remind me of them and bring back great memories on rainy days.


One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:


@dalailama For the obvious inspiration and because his mindset would be very good to have if you were going to be alone for an extended period of time. 

One album on Spotify:


Spotiwhat? 
Like I said Spotiwhat? ;) 

One photo:

Any photo of my son
Cause he's the most awesome and if I could only have one photo it would be of him. 


One YouTube video:





One digital luxury:


My iPad with Cellular Service, LTE please ;) 
Cause then being on the island would pretty much be exactly like being at home :) 

Monday, May 28, 2012

Nothing Specific

So here it is. The inevitable Moonrise Kingdom post. Made possible by the fact that I'm white, work in the creative industry and live in Hipster Yuppie central. Plus the new episode of Girls isn't yet available on my illegal download site of choice.

People seem to have a bit of a Marmite relationship with Wes Anderson. Some loathe his work, finding his style sickeningly twee, his characters devoid of meaning and interest, and his plots... non-existent. Others revel in the vagueness he casts in the dusty pastel light of imagined nostalgia. Love it or hate it, his recurring theme of disconnected, flawed adults encroaching on the apparent innocence of youth is unparalleled. His loyal ensemble cast defined so much by their possessions and hobbies, they can say everything without the need to say anything at all.



While Anderson's previous films (Rushmore, Tenenbaums, Darjeeling) focus on grown-ups trapped by the expectations of their childhood, Moonrise Kingdom brings the emphasis onto the children. His pre-teen protagonists long to be fugitive from the suffocating emotional tension at home before the real damage - the damage their parents and guardians so fearfully obsess over - truly sets in.

As a viewer, Moonrise Kingdom initially comes across as an escapist fantasy. Reading the tweets surrounding its opening last week, many people were leaving the film feeling blissfully upbeat. And, with all the whimsical detailing, ironic one-liners and small children talking the big talk, it certainly has all the attributes of Bugsy Malone as interpreted by Jack Spade and Anthropologie. Personally, I was nevertheless left with a haunting feeling - a bitter taste in my mouth that suggested something was amiss. Perhaps, the innocence of the kids served only as a distraction to what was really being said about the empty selfishness of adulthood. Perhaps the joy I and my fellow Dalstonite audience felt was simply blinding denial. As Anderson himself said in a recent interview with WSJ, "I don't really know what I want people to take away from my movies. Nothing specific". Nothing specific - the beating heart of a hipster yuppie lifestyle.


Sunday, May 20, 2012

Roll up, roll up

Next week, as part of the Clerkenwell Design Week, I'll be on the panel for Design Crimes - a session of strong opinion and forthright debate around crimes in performance, function, form or simply interactive frustration. Previous selections have included TV remotes, DFS sofas and the UGG boot.


The theme for Wednesday's event is "Revival", and we've been asked to select those designs from the past which we believe would have been better left where they belonged: in the past.

More details here and Clerkenwell Design Week guide here. Get in.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Desert Island Digital: Steve Price



On this week's Desert Island Digital my castaway is Steve Price. Steve is a Creative Director, Meat Club President, Dad, martini drinker and the first real-life friend I ever made on Twitter. Rumour has it, he has his own set of monogrammed towels at Shoreditch House. 



Here's his choices for life on the island.

One tweet upon arrival on the island:
@planbstudio

Fuck desks. Here's my new studio. #Love&Support



One app:

Hailo. is awesome cab app but not sure it would work on a desert island. So probably Instagram - at least I can keep people posted with which coconut I am wearing.



One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:


@dalailama to help me gather my thoughts everyday



One album on Spotify:


Pearl Jam, Twenty


One YouTube video:




One photo:


Me and my son. So happy, so excited. 







One digital luxury:


Laptop (and wifi)

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

What's in a name?


Camilla's Store is the name of this blog. Camilla Grey is my name. The former sounds like a Texan junk shop. The latter sounds like a Pantone chip. Both sound made up. When I started Camilla's Store, the need for social media usernames was minimal. Plus, I was young, naive and, like many at that time, half believed this whole 'Internet' thing would never really take off.

Fast forward five years, dozens of online profiles, hundreds of blog posts and thousands of tweets later and I have a problem. A geeky white girl problem, but a problem none the less. I have become the victim of my own good branding. Real people think my real name is Camilla Store.



At first I laughed it off, but then I put on my serious Brand Strategist hat and asked myself what I would advise a client in a similar situation. And my response would be to change the name that no one knows. As the guys at Wolff Olins say, "Your brand is whatever Google says it is". Combine that with what I say, which is "Your brand is whatever people on social media say it is" and you've got the answer. I'm going to have to change my real name via deed poll.



Who cares about the legacy, heritage and family ties that lie behind Grey? So what if, as an only child, it falls to me to continue the legacy of Grey's into the next generation? The people of Instagram and Twitter want fresh links and hot #matchymatchy's, not some sob story about my Ukranian ancestors slumming it in East London before it got cool. And, as a Strategist, I firmly believe in giving the brawling masses what they want.   

If you insist on living by the sword, you have to be ready to die by the sword. And anyway, if I had to choose between Google and the Passport Office, I'd go for the one least likely to invent Google+ every time. 

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Kid, you'll move mountains

Tales from a new friend about the desert utopia that is the Burning Man community have got me dreaming of bleached out sands, lost wild nights, and no tan marks! 




Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Desert Island Digital: Panja Gobel


On this week's Desert Island Digital my castaway is Panja Gobel. Panja is a designer of immersive environments and digital experiences, as well as a pretty cool cat. What she doesn't know about the interplay between people and technology isn't worth knowing. Just last month she was on the jury for the D&AD Awards in the Digital Design category.


Here's her choices for life on the island.



One tweet upon arrival on the island:
@panjapop

Yo! #unplug 



One app:

Draw Something - I love the way an app can have such bad UX and still gets me hooked just on it's concept. No, I don't love it - I'm suffering from UX huffing and puffing syndrome. Recently they integrated a share button, that spoils battles by posting them prematurely on Facebook. Brilliant, who thought of that? It should really be put into the replay section of a past battle. So listen up and sort it out. I also would like a gallery, so I don't have to painstakingly screen grab it myself and generally it would be good to have some sort of scoring table. Then make everything look a little nicer and we are there. Despite these extreme UX issues I am addicted. Normally I try to have at least 10 battles going parallel so I always have at least 2 a day. Most days I just wish my finger was more pointed. 



One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:

@lukid - always a welcome and wayward distraction to my life



One album on Spotify:

Pata Piya or Electric Africa are just brilliant. Perfect Desert island music - cheerful music to dance to with coconut bras and banana leave skirts or just naked.



One YouTube video:

David Weiss of Fischli & Weiss died a few days ago. They were the best and most influential art duo ever. Personally I thought they were immortal. I also would be making a lot of stuff like that on the island.





One photo:

This is the kind of stuff my daughter builds around the house for us. These little worlds always cheer me up. Apparently this one is a series of cakes.






One digital luxury:

Asimo - I just love him and want him to come with me anywhere I go. Wonder how he would cope on an island… not really sure wether he could swim or whether the sand would damage his mechanism. Obviously Asimo, with his Honda genes also loves Fischli & Weiss, which will help.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Bridging the gap

Just for kicks I sometimes enjoy messing with the Netflix algorithm by watching movies way out of my usual 'taste preferences'. So with this in mind and to cheer myself up a bit, I watched 'The Bridge' - a moving documentary about the people who take their lives by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.

I've driven across the Golden Gate several times now - more often than not in The Great Red Shark while listening to the soundtrack from The O.C. But even then, the bridge holds a strange sense of foreboding within its straining ironwork and startling russet tones. The inclement weather patterns, for which SF is known, seem to begin and end at the bridge. The mists roll in and out, sometimes gleaming brilliantly in the Californian sun, other times shrouding the entire structure in cloud. On the gloomy days, with the rain and the wind and the shadow of Alcatraz in the near distance, it really couldn't be further from the picture postcard image of majestic structural engineering.



'The Bridge' includes footage of real people jumping, shot over several months by the film's makers. Apparently, on average, two people take their lives at the bridge every 15 days. It's easy, it's dramatic and it's high enough to be a sure thing. But the most emotive element in the film were the interviews with the jumpers' friends and family. Just like the ambiguous nature of the bridge itself, they veered between understanding the actions of their loved ones, while struggling to comprehend how anyone could fall so deeply into despair.



One of the parents interviewed wondered if her son chose the bridge because he "wanted one last chance to fly". The footage of him - Gene - pacing next to the barrier for hours before finally leaping triumphantly onto the rail and throwing his arms up in a swan dive takes your breath away. Just as the bridge is a testament to man overcoming nature - connecting two sides of San Francisco bay - so these fatal acts depict an individual's conquering of his or her own destiny.

You can check out the trailer out here.

And as for me, don't worry I'm back to Season 3 of The Rachel Zoe project. All good.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Desert Island Digital: Mills aka CHIEF WONKA™

On this week's Desert Island Digital my castaway is the self-proclaimed King of Succailure, Twitter flaneur, Keynote master extraordinaire and co-founder of ustwo, Mills.


Here's his choices for life on the island.



One tweet upon arrival on the island:
@millustwo
Success Island™ - CHECK


One app:
Twitter for iPhone - laying on the sun bed, beer in hand and iPhone in other = Heaven. I need to touch the hearts and minds of the industry I love.


One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:
@Mr_Bingo  - unquestionably the biggest fool I know but unquestionably the funniest.


One album on Spotify:
The year was 1999, the first time I heard their virginal voices, they touched me in a way I never forget. If you could bottle love, these guys would be the milkmen. 
Westlife by Westlife - it's now a cult classic.


One YouTube video:
I have no idea if this is real, or if it is made by some student, but what I do know is that it's utter genius and should be the benchmark for all adverts. 



One photo:
My studio - there is no place like home




One digital luxury:
My Kindle -  so far I've had my Kindle for a year and have yet to get past page 78 of Onward by Howard Schultz, even though I bought it a year ago. The Kindle is genius and I love the feel of it in the hand, the simple page turn, the fact I can have thousands of brain foods in it. Having it with me on the island means I may actually find time to use it. 

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Love it when you go bump bump bump

It's not often that a new technology works its way seamlessly into your life. There's almost always that love-hate tussle throughout the learning and adoption curve stages - that phase where you can see it's kind of a big deal but it takes concerted effort to remember to use it. *Looks accusingly at Path*. Indeed, many of the tech clients I've worked with have referred to that hallowed position of "owning" a part of the brain - the type of ownership that sees brand names become verbs; "Google it", "Wikipedia it", "Netflix it".



So I've been pleasantly surprised to welcome the Bump photo transfer app into my life and given that it doesn't require you to tweet about it or form communities around it, it seemed only fair to give the app a little loving shout out on here. For those of you who follow my ramblings on the @movingbrands Twitter, you'll know that my colleagues and I fell instantly, and hard, for the neat interface of hitting the space bar with your iPhone to transfer photos to your desktop. But initial thrill over, I've returned to it again and again.




If I have the choice to email a photo to myself, wait for iCloud to sync or simply "bump" it - the answer's in the lexicon.

(Also finally found an excuse to try out the new Spotify embed option. #HandClaspOfChampions)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Desert Island Digital: Jack Schofield

Welcome to this, the launch edition of Desert Island Digital, where I am very excited to welcome Jack Schofield, Computer Editor for The Guardian and preeminent tech journo, as my first castaway.


Here's Jack's Desert Island Digital selection...


One tweet upon arrival on the island:
@jackschofield
Just hitting the beach. It looks like I'm stranded.... #groan


One app:
FreeCell 
... because it's an entertaining way to waste five minutes. I've been playing it since Windows 3.1 came out. I like winning.


One #ff (Follow Forever) on Twitter:
I'd follow @paul_steele, because he comes across as a really nice guy and he tweets the sort of amusing links I like. In fact, we retweet each other. 


One album on Spotify:
Keith Jarrett's Changeless isn't my favourite album but it's the one I'm most likely to put on repeat. I've been playing it for a couple of decades, so I know I won't get bored with it.


One YouTube video:
'A Normal Day' by Thomas and Sebastian, with the backing track that uses fragments of pop songs, such as the Kinks' You Really Got Me. That version has been removed because of our deranged copyright laws, but the "tricks" are still great.



One photo:
My wife and my son, setting off somewhere different. At the moment, she's in Malaysia and he's in Kuwait. 


One digital luxury:
I'd be carrying my Nikon D90 anyway, so I'd just like to hang on to it. I used to edit photography magazines, and I could happily spend the rest of my days taking pictures.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

*New Feature Alert* Introducing Desert Island Digital

It is with great excitement that I announce the launch of my first feature for Camilla's Store. Inspired by our deep love affair with tech, I'm on a mission to learn which virtual, intangible objects people hold most dear in their lives.

'Desert Island Digital' updates Radio 4's concept for a modern age by encouraging people to cut through the noise and think about what really matters to them in digital form.

My invited castaways to the desert island arrive armed only with their smartphone and a wifi connection. However, the native, highly reclusive tribe are very strict about how much content they can access.

So just what will my castaways need to survive digitally?

Find out tomorrow when my first, and very special, castaway reveals his Desert Island Digital.

#desertislanddigital



Sunday, April 15, 2012

Are anxious career women the new Stepford wives?

Time was when the narrative of women revolved around finding a man, getting married and starting a family. Then it got updated so they could have a bit of a career before then finding a man, getting married and starting a family. Increasingly, however, I’m seeing the emergence of a new narrative and one no less limiting or frustrating for all concerned. One where a woman has a career, yet is made to feel so strung-out and anxious by her job that she has to give up even the notion of a personal life.


Hit series, ‘Homeland’ and ‘The Killing’, are both powerful examples of how the imagery and ideology of this new female narrative is entering popular culture.  In these stories, the woman is almost always ferociously intelligent, highly driven, and - surprise surprise - stick thin. But unlike her housewife counterpart wasting away on the Tracy Anderson “teeny tiny body” Method in the suburbs, this woman believes that it’s not just lunch that’s for wimps; surviving on caffeine, prescription drugs and late night junk food, professional ambition becomes her only sustenance. As celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe has said, “In the war between my work and my personal life, my work always wins”







Both shows’ protagonists are portrayed as being so absorbed in and by their jobs, that they can barely function in their real lives. In ‘Homeland’ Carrie is so focused on safeguarding the American nation that she has to sleep on her sofa and wash her armpits in the sink. While in ‘The Killing’ Sarah deserts her fiance, her son (and apparently her dress sense ) in the quest to bring justice.

While never addressed in male-lead entertainment, it seems that a woman’s ‘war’ between her work and home life has enough cultural fascination to become a key storyline. When we see Don Draper or Luther passed out on the sofa with a highball they appear manly and noble - a noir hero. Yet when it’s a woman on the sofa, she’s evidently unhinged, troubled and heading for a meltdown. Why are we invited to find a working women’s anxiety quite so appealing? 




In a recent article on anxiety in New York magazine, one female interviewee is quoted, “I use my anxiety to be better at what I do”. And it made me wonder why is the term ‘anxiety’ being used in place of ‘ambition’? Was that overwhelming, reverberating, buzzing determination to be the best you can possibly be being mis-interpreted as anxiety? Is the battle cry in a women’s work/life ‘war’ being experienced through a lens of guilt?

Ten years ago, before technology put the pace of modern life into fifth gear, women were presented with narratives that included an “and” - work and home, career and family, sex and the city. Today, in the face of economic upheaval and exponential change, it seems the scope of a female narrative is closing in once more. They say you can never be too rich or too thin. Now you can never be too anxious about your work/life balance as well.

Monday, April 09, 2012

Preference Setting (Part 1)



About a year ago I wrote a post entitled “20 Reasons Not to Date a Digital Strategist”. It was just a bit of fun, but since April that entry has had almost 10,000 views and travelled from the UK to North America, Canada, Australia and most of Western Europe. Clearly I was not alone in my exasperation - and amusement - at the undefined rules of engagement for social media when it came to real life relationships.  And, while corporations busily debate the financial value of a “like”, it seems regular people everywhere are trying to figure out its emotional value.




Claiming expertise in the management of connections and engagement online is a lucrative career choice these days - ensuring brands maintain consistent, rewarding relationships with their customers. Yet, there exist no guidelines (official or otherwise) for managing personal relationships across so many platforms. Recently Mashable reported that 1 in 10 people playing the Scrabble-esque word game Words with Friends has directly led to a "hook up". While Facebook is currently cited in one third of all UK divorces. For perhaps the first time in human history branded platforms - and the behaviour they nurture, encourage and, ultimately, manipulate for their own commercial ends - are affecting our interpersonal relationships. Ahead of Facebook's IPO, Zuckerberg even went so far as to admit wanting to actively "rewire" people and they way they form connections!


Social media brands nurture a behaviour that revolves around constant self-refinement. Their business models rely on our belief that we are only as interesting as our last post, or as popular as the number of followers we have. So much so that it's easy to get caught up in the expectation to continuously like, follow, friend, favourite, re-pin, and re-tweet. Russell M Davies said recently that social media is “networking for shy people”. Safely adhering to the rules of a predetermined user experience, it's easy just to pick out and present our best sides, our wittiest comments and our coolest links. But Facebook, Twitter and the like are all engines by which to curate ourselves, and it is these curated selves - not our real selves - with which we are now forming new, online relationships.




But what happens to the online, curated self in the real world, when the shy people have to meet up offline? Coping with the reconciliation of avatar to human being becomes a daunting, even stressful, prospect. Are we ever going to be as interesting, glamorous or funny? What happens if the connection formed online disappears offline? Suddenly, the potential for traversing an emotional minefield grows vast. Gone are the days when you could yank your phone line out the wall - 80’s movie style - and cry into your tie-dye leggings til you felt better. Now - connected across multiple platforms - you’re on the Internet, they’re on the Internet and, without really wanting to, you know each other’s every thought and move. The complex machine learning and recommendation engines behind Facebook and Google were designed for the group hug of the open web, not the late-night Internet-loitering individual.





So, I guess that number 21 on the list of reasons not to date a digital strategist is that we're going to over think this situation. The gender divide, the 'Digital Native' generation, and taking existing, real world relationships online are all part of it, and aspects which call for separate consideration. As brands and technological innovation impact on how we build interpersonal relationships, the opportunity for us to define the rules of engagement becomes greater yet harder. Without taking the backwards step of disconnecting altogether, we must learn to live our real lives whilst simultaneously plugged into an online world.

Photos via Ida Rhoda, Howard Grey, Henri Lartigue

Sunday, April 01, 2012

No more cat videos


I've given up cat videos. And pictures of cats. And their kitten counterparts. You may scoff at this insane declaration, but it's harder than you think.

It's not like I was really that into them in the first place, but they have become a mainstay of content sharing across every conceivable platform - starting around the Millennium with the dreaded round robin emails entitled "50 cute baby kittens asleep; please fwd or you'll die" and ending today with entire Pinterest boards dedicated to these feline time wasters.



Because that is what they are. During the SOPA/PIPA issue, Darren - my Creative Director - sarcastically wondered just how he might continue to encounter kittens and their cuteness were the laws to be brought into play. Just where, he asked, could he get his hit of small animals water skiing? It would be a crisis!

And that's when it hit me. I do not 'need' to look at photos or videos of cats. The me that has not watched a cat video on any given day is no different to the me that has just watched a cat video, except that I now have one to two minutes less time to enjoy my life. So why do I feel such pressure to continually click on anything prepositioned by the term "aw"?

So I stopped. I stopped clicking. That was easy. What I didn't expect was the outpouring of anger and animosity from my peers. "What do you mean you're not looking at cat photos?", "You should really just watch this one though!", "It's soooooo cuuuuute!", "But it's a kitten peeping out of a fuckin' basket, you cold hearted biatch!"



Why does it matter? Why were people getting so upset? In these modern times, with so few spiritual crutches to help us greet each dawning day with a sense of hope and positivity, are cat videos all we have left? In denying Kittah's right to be on the ceiling, was I in fact making a larger statement about human kind's desire to believe in something, anything?

Maybe. Maybe not. As I move on to eliminating dogs, lemurs and - one day - Justin Bieber - from my screen, perhaps I will suffer some kind of cute-deprivation related breakdown. But until then, I'm enjoying taking those extra moments previously wasted on tiny little paws, and applying them to something that makes me go "Hm", instead of "Aw".

Monday, March 26, 2012

Infinite Loops


Last year I was invited by Matt Judge to contribute a piece for his printed compendium entitled Design Assembly IIII chose to write about my emerging obsession with how brands can utilise social media data to better serve, and engage with, their audience. In typical Camilla Grey form, however, I only learned about the concept of "big data" about a week after the book went to print. So, while the piece is entirely concerned with the subject of big data, you will not find the term anywhere in the piece.

To make up for it, I recently went along to a Gigaom conference - Structure: Data. The talks I attended raised some fascinating issues surrounding the future of Big Data, and I look forward to exploring them further both here and in my work. Meantime, here's the copy from my DA3 contribution. It's a #longread at 2000 words, so grab a cup of tea, settle back, and marvel at how the tech buzzword de jour doesn't even get a look in!


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"Gone are the days when you can just walk in to a boardroom, say "Twitter" and expect someone to pay you $20,000 and land yourself on the cover of Wired magazine. Now you have to say "Foursquare"." - Alex Bragg, Founder, A Bajillion Hits

It's no longer revolutionary to acknowledge that we are living in crazy, fast moving times. But while brands are learning to lose control and love change on the surface, it's a growing challenge for them to keep control and plan for change behind the scenes. It's my belief that a modern brand, especially a consumer-facing one, needs to create an infinite loop between what it says it is and what everyone else says it is. Brands today are dealing with customers who live in a fully-digital, always on, on-demand, one-click shopping, auto-filling, seamless world where everything "just works", and it's not ever going back to how it was. For me, the beauty of technology isn't just the exciting, creative things brands can do with it to engage customers; it's all the logging, monitoring and measuring capability going on under the hood that savvy brands can use to really get to know their customers, and serve them better.

With a few rare exceptions, the majority of brands are floundering in an online space they barely understand. Approaching digital on any level deeper than a website or a Facebook page takes dedicated ideological and financial investment and it can be difficult to know where to begin. From within the bubble of our design studios, media agencies, tech start-ups and app development companies, it's very easy to feel like we understand the rules of the game. With "change, adapt or die" as our mantra, we gorge ourselves on the contents of our Google Readers and scroll frantically through the Twitter feed. We are confident in the belief that we possess an ever-updating source of pre-Beta information that will make what we produce profoundly successful as well as hot, liked, viral and influential.

But sitting outside of the bubble with their heads in their hands are our clients. Around the world, across every industry, from within companies of every possible size, there are business leaders struggling to navigate a landscape that looks profoundly altered with each morning's dawn. Long gone are the days when they could make a great product, tell people about it with a sexy print ad, and have Peggy fix them a Martini while the sales figures climbed. Today they've got some 22-year-old intern - head swathed in a pair of huge headphones, displaying pro-levels of tabbed browsing - strolling in at 10am clutching two phones only to announce that the social media campaign they were given as a time killer has "gone viral" and sent consumers into a spending frenzy.

The idea of throwing $20,000 at someone using the latest buzz word is funny because it's true. When clients are banging on the door demanding apps, augmented reality, social media campaigns and a viral video it's all a sign of a deep-set anxiety in the face of relentless change. What few of them realise is that dealing with this relentlessness is not just about one-off ideas, but about focusing on a considered, strategic way to reach their customers across platforms. This is where water-tight brand strategy and innovative digital strategy begin to deliver real, measurable impact. While the brand strategy dictates the core story of the brand and who it's trying to reach with that story, digital strategy shows how technology can build the bridge between the brand and its customers. I want to see more brands looking at the platforms their audience are using already and the way they're using them, and creating content that fits that behavior. Most importantly, brands today need not only to be heard on emerging platforms, they also need to know how to listen on them as well, and never before have they been provided with such a clear, real-time mirror of who they're reaching and how they're transposing in the real world.

The market is very much in its infancy, but there is an expanding list of companies giving quantifiable meaning to the constant stream of information and content being created online. I recently became acquainted with a San Francisco-based company called PeopleBrowsr. With three thousand days of indexed data from Twitter, public Facebook pages and blogs, PeopleBrowsr have developed a searchable database of social content which operates like the Google of social analytics. Finally I'd found a way to reveal not only what was being said about any given brand, but who was saying it, where they were saying it, and what influence it had on their wider communities. It's geeky to admit it, but the ability to map hard data to human behavior is not only core to a 'moving world' approach to strategy, but it's what gets me out of bed in the morning. It means I'm not just walking into rooms full of anxious clients and saying "Foursquare". It means I can walk in armed with a detailed insight into how their brand perception in the real world is measuring up to their brand positioning. From there, we can start to look at the language people are using around the brand, the emotions they are expressing about it, whether they are experiencing the brand with friends or alone, at home or out and about, at night or in the day, or if they're adding photos and videos to their written content. And once you start thinking about these things, the ways to reach out to them seem obvious.

One brand who appears to make this joined-up approach look very easy indeed is Burberry. They aren't just creating Facebook and Twitter profiles for the sake of it or because they think that's enough. Instead, they're seeking out the most powerful ways to connect their brand story with their existing and potential customer groups. I've watched how Burberry have spent the past few years re-asserting their position as an iconic British brand in ways which demonstrate an innate understanding of their target customer - the young, iPad-toting, high-net-worth individual. At this year's London Fashion Week, Burberry upped their game even further in a bold move which turned their intimate fashion show into a global event. Through a well-produced live stream of the show and Twitpics of every look before each model hit the catwalk, Burberry set their infinite feedback loop in motion. They demonstrated a clear understanding of how fashion news circulated and responded by creating high-quality platform-specific content for their audience. By being the first to the post with their latest looks they relinquished control and influence from some over-swagged blogger in the front row. Foremost, they were present and in-control of any conversations about them - able to listen to and learn from their audience before the new Season's work got under way. Clearly having once lost command of their brand image to northern "chavs" has stood them in good stead for the unregulated liberalism of social networks. Many brands have struggled to adjust to the diplomacy of the digital space, and none more so than luxury brands. With no austere doorman to monitor who's coming and going online, most luxury labels prefer to proffer little more than an interactive look book and a nicely produced Vimeo video. Burberry, however, seem not just to be responding to change, but leading it in their industry.

So where is all this going in the future? At the intersection of mobile, location and social lies a golden pool of content - user information fused with physical behavior and sentiment. By 2020, I will have over a decade's worth of Foursquare check-ins, tweets, and in-app purchases. I - and millions of others - love publicly sharing what we're up to with our friends and followers, and if brands want to look at that content and make better recommendations, suggest more localized deals, and provide more personalized offers, then that's absolutely fine by me. It sounds scary, but I see toddlers on the bus every day who haven't yet developed speech but are effortlessly swiping and pinching their way around their Mum's iPhone. These "Digital Instinctives" just aren't going to see their world as being divided into online and offline. As "Digital Instinctives" grow up, human behavior and technology will become ever more interlinked. The more they live and hang out publicly in the digital space, the more data they will create, and the more personalized their brand experiences can become. Any brand that is not dedicated to understanding the anthropology of life online and figuring out how best to listen, learn and engage honestly will fail to evolve, and eventually become extinct.

Integrating the philosophy and technology behind infinite feedback loops into a company takes time. Those 22-year-old interns may seem to have all the answers when it comes to buzz words, but few of them know how to run and grow a business, or the experience to lay down transformative infrastructures and systems. Adapting to change relies on the removal of walls everywhere - between the bright young things and the wise business leaders, between creativity and technology, between us and our clients, and between the controlled space of the brand world and the relentless landscape of the real world. As a Strategist, I couldn't be more inspired by the pace of change and the opportunities it provides for the brands I work with. It's exciting to have conversations about how brands can be expressed in ways which didn't exist five years ago, one year ago, or last month. And I love that together we're now able to plan for a tomorrow we can't even begin to imagine.

- Published here with permission of Matt Judge. Written October 2011.