Musings on how brands and products are communicated [through advertising, marketing, PR] and consumed [in our hyper-commoditized world.]
Consume or be consumed.
I came across this Russian Chupa Chups ad (I'm still not quite sure how...), featuring Olympic and World Champion figure skater (and sex bomb in general) Evgeni Plushenko.
My Russian isn't quite up to snuff, but the tune of the song and his cutesy lollipop dancing/lipsynching are almost nauseating. Either Chupa Chups payed out some big time scrilla for this celeb affiliation, or Evgeni really likes his lollipops. I'm tempted to side with the former.
Tropicana’s most recent PR offering came in the form of an ad featuring the citizens of Inuvik, N.W.T. enjoying the glow of a giant balloon of light, smiling and sipping bottles of Tropicana OJ. But is this output more stunt than substance?
The campaign has all the hallmarks of a feel-good CSR endeavour:
Happy faces of Northwest Territories inhabitants? Check.
Emotional and inspiring product-related tagline? Got it. (“On January 8th, we brought the sun to Inuvik. Because we believe brighter mornings make for brighter days.” Ah, poetry.)
Tropicana presented as the harbinger of sunlight, happiness and OJ to the great, dark north? Yup.
From a media relations perspective, the glowing sun-like orb floating above Inuvik is a best-in-practice exhibit. The campaign has received incredible support from consumers. It was also covered by Breakfast Television. The video has garnered thousands of views online, and has attracted thousands of fans to the Tropicana Canada page on Facebook. And from personal experience, it's impossible not to smile when you see the ad.
On the surface, it seems like a case of get in, give juice and get out. It looks like Tropicana went in, got their valuable money shots, and left Inuvik as dark as when they arrived. However, beyond the ad, the Tropicana "Brighter Mornings" campaign does have some juice left to it. Tropicana provided $25,000 to community programs, and intends to continue to engage consumers online through social media and public relations. The Facebook page even has a blog called The Arctic Sun.
Only good can result from promises of sustained commitment to this PR campaign, combined with the lingering warm-fuzzy feelings toward the advertisement. It is a genius concept, and Tropicana is very deserving of that enhanced reputation. A much-needed and memorable spin on the tired straw-in-orange visual we're all too familiar with :)
In its most recent offering, Stolichnaya begs an interesting question. Would you have a drink with you? Evocative of the quintessential "IF" question of "Dead or alive, who would you dine with?" (for Stephen Hawking, the answer is Marilyn Monroe, Stoli beckons us to evaluate our own social value/relevance. Most would agree that an epic, controversial or absurd individual would top our list (although my answer will always be super-Swede Mats Sundin). But if we could share a Stoli on the rocks with anyone who has ever lived, would we choose ourselves?
Following in a longstanding tradition of booze brands aligning with epic characters (like Dos Equis' Most Interesting Man in the World, or even Captain Morgan ("calling AAAAAAAAALL Captains!"), Stoli's campaign not only harnesses a strong, recognizable character, but challenges us to assess our own worthiness as a bar companion.
This got me thinking about what could make people want to meet up with me for a cheeky pint. I didn't have to think very hard, seeing as I don't consider myself epic or inspirational by any means (but I can peel the label off any beer bottle!)
Citius. Altius. Fortius. Now that the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games have come and gone, Canadians may feel somewhat conflicted over the results of the games. We are left with sweet taste of victory for our decorated Canadian athletes, and the sour sting of criticism for the games overall from journalists around the world.
The heartbreaking loss of Georgia's young luger, the dreary weather and other mild controversies aside, one particularly scathing review of Canada's most successful Olympics stands out. Texan columnist Gil LeBreton scolded the Vancouver Games for its apparent similarities to the 1936 Berlin Olympics in Nazi Germany. Though he did apologize for the hurtful analogy, these Olympics definitely were "Canada's Games" in the way that Canadian apparel and maple leaves swathed the streets. It's true - Canadiana did dominate Vancouver's landscape. But perhaps LeBreton's most provoking comment: "One thing I never saw: a simple flag or shirt with the five Olympic rings.”
The concept of the Olympics as a brand is an interesting one. The Olympic rings are perhaps the most recognizable of international symbols; an icon of the world that inspires brotherhood and celebrates the achievements of humankind across the five inhabited continents.
I entertain the idea of national brand as a form of self expression in one of my previous posts about the Canadian Olympic Torchbearer mittens. But what is it that attracts us to the maple leaf over the Olympic rings? We jump at the chance to display patriotism for our birth countries, but in no way do we commemorate the world’s success as a global team. Why is this? Is it our intrinsic and deep pride? Is it our natural instinct to differentiate ourselves from other nationalities? Maybe it's simply because the Olympic rings are not made as readily available to fans on flags, shirts and memorabilia in the same way that national symbols are.
Whatever the reason may be, it does seem that strives have been made in asserting an Olympic identity among world citizens via social media. As a fan of The Olympic Games on Facebook, I have received countless updates about the Olympics from an unbiased Olympic voice that celebrates all countries.
It makes me wonder - is it possible to commoditize the Olympic brand in the same way that countries commoditize their national symbols? Will we one day sport shirts with the Olympic rings in addition to the symbols of our individual nations? Does it have the same potential to become a cash cow like the Canadian Olympic apparel? Could the Olympic brand still be celebrated for the original values the Games, rather than as an output of capitalism/materialism? With the London 2012 Olympic Games quickly approaching, perhaps we will soon see.
In a complete 180 from my previous post on bacon, this entry will focus on its nutritional antithesis - broccoli.
Over the holiday season, I (among others, I'm sure) was bombarded with a series of odd commercials for broccoli. The ads feature a bizarre broccoli-infatuated man who pops up in miraculous scenarios. For instance, a skydiver survives a dive sans-parachute, and a mother gives birth to eight healthy babies at home. After they express their thankfulness for the miracle of surviving, the broccoli man states that the "tiny trees" - packed with 12 essential vitamins and minerals - is the greater miracle.
These ads end with the web address "TheMiracleFood.ca". I wouldn't consider myself a broccoli enthusiast, but I do eat it and am aware of its nutritional powerhouse status. So I decided to check out the site. It contains nutritional information, recipes and noteworthy facts on the super-vegetable.
I discovered that broccoli is capable of:
preventing colon cancer
minimizing the risk of cataracts
protecting against stroke
Some have criticized the campaign as being cynical, and inappropriate for a post-recessionary climate. I agree with this perspective, but the blunt, quirky ads effectively guide viewers to the campaign's accompanying website. Without looking like a drab PSA for the benefits of broccoli, it grabs the attention of viewers, and leaves them curious as to what miracles broccoli is capable of performing.
For a vegetable that enjoys a less-than-sterling reputation among children and even some adults, broccoli does have some ground to make up against its superfood rivals (like pomegranates, blueberries and flax). This campaign will likely bring some much-needed publicity to the vegetable that everybody loves to hate.
We’ve seen the advertisements. We have an unwaivering alliance to one of the brands. We chuckle at PC’s bumbling ineptitudes, and gawk at Mac’s cool demeanour. But what is the significance of the Mac versus PC advertisement debacle?
It's official. I'm hooked on the coolness of Apple's Mac brand, and the Mac versus PC ads have solidified my adoration.
The first Mac VS PC “Get a Mac” ads aired in 2006 with a suited and stuffy PC character contrasted with a casual and hip Mac character. Viewers are presented with convincing evidence that the Mac OS is superior to the PC and all it encompasses. For the past five years, the Mac VS PC ads went, in my mind, virtually unrivaled. These ads gained notoriety for their simplicity, humour, and effortless cool.
This made me wonder – what is it that made the Apple/Mac brand so cool? - bright and breezy stores - sleek design of products - underdog positioning
But where does this coolness stem from in advertising?
Personally, my admiration for the Mac brand developed primarily from their ad outputs. They have it all: - crispness of image - cutely comedic gags - convincing evidence supporting the superiority of the Mac brand
When faced with a winning ad formula, and constant heckling by Mac, what more can Microsoft do but attempt to compete?
In 2008, Windows launched a $300 million “I’m a PC” campaign in retaliation. Windows makes their point about being the brand of choice of everyday people (and not just drones) but can these ads even be assessed for their competitive value? Are these lackluster advertisements enough to make personal computer users want to be labeled as “normal” and “everyday” people, and “not cool enough to be a Mac person”? Do consumers want to see themselves reflected in advertisements, or be presented with a product that can improve their image and worth? Where is the coolness factor that Mac has harnessed so well?
As Microsoft’s Windows 7 rolls off the production line and into the disk drives of countless PC users, consumers have been bombarded with a new generation of PC retaliation ad campaign. Young and adorable PC users demonstrate the ease of use of the Windows OS (think: “I’m a PC and I’m four and a half”.
In terms of social media, both Microsoft and Apple have their ads posted on their respective corporate sites, and their ads posted on Youtube and video hosting websites are widely debated. Mac and PC fans comment actively, claiming the superiority of their brand. These rivalry ads have further proked a firestorm of Mac/PC allegiance. Microsoft and Apple both rank high in terms of social media presence.
It will be interesting to see what unfolds next for both operating systems. Like Coca Cola VS Pepsi, Nike VS Adidas, Mac and PC are destined to be opponents in a permanent rivalry Who knows if Mac achieve parity with Windows 7 in market share? What role with social media campaigns play?
If this rivalry is any indication, we are destined to define our personal identities with our loyalty to brands. Differentiation is - and will likely continue to be - key to the ad strategies of both companies.
UPDATE:
According to PCWorld, sales for WIndows 7 have already eclipsed Mac's OS X in marketshare. The newest Windows 7 ads have even been injected with a shot of humour and realism with their “I’m a PC and Windows 7 was my idea” ads. The web even thinks they're funny. Microsoft demonstrates a neutral status without even referring to Mac or Apple products. Is this neutrality a positive move? Or do we prefer the spice of direct competition and OS namecalling? Hmm...
Bacon. Arguably the best thing ever to come off a pig's belly. It embellishes our burgers. It enhances our breakfasts. Its salty, crispy texture has made it one of the most renowned meat products of our time. But how does bacon assert identity onscreen?
Now, it appears that a shift has occurred. It seems that bacon is turning formerly manly meat lovers into obsessive, screaming bacon groupies. In Wendy’s ads, the celebrity of the cured meat world is praised as a god among meats by shrieking males.
Maple Leaf Foods' most recent ad features an unorthodox wedding proposal. Not only does the female character propose, but a pack of centre cut bacon serves as the placeholder for a traditional engagement ring. The result? The male is nearly brought to tears.
Bacon was once associated with all things manly – rebellion, power…burping. Now, the powerful symbol of manhood makes full-blown feminine frenzy acceptable for men. Men can express their softer sides while still being dudes.
The next time you tuck into a nice rasher of the streaky stuff, think of how advertising has shaped your perceptions of the bacon identity.
Ah, bacon. The only meat to have an identity crisis.
For the past few months, my classmates and I have tussled with the concept of personal branding. Before now, I had an extremely limited brand presence online, with only a Facebook account to my name. To remedy this, I have tweeted, blogged and connected on several social media platforms, while perfecting what I would like to portray as my online self. Personal branding has been my Everest, if you will. It's been a journey, but it's not over yet.
I am still somewhat shy when it comes to making profound declarations of identity visible online. I had no idea how much confidence and conviction is needed to proclaim one's personality, strengths and interests. So I'll take the plunge - here it is.
A rowdy party scene. Rock 'n roll. Scantily clad women. A myriad of "bros" high-fiving and thumbs-upping.
A beautiful outdoor square. Brigitte Bardot. Prim vintage women. Debonaire and chivalrous gentlemen.
In North America, it seems as if our beer brands demonstrate a party hardy attitude through their advertising. TV ads in particular are a hotbed of hooky players and party drinkers.
Recently, TV ads for Stella Artois have delivered a stark juxtaposition to the norm of North American beer adverts. The rough-around-the-edges party scenes and girl chasing are replaced with a '60s European aesthetic, in terms of costume, music, and film grain.
Dating back, the Belgian Stella Artois has produced an arsenal of fresh yet classic, cheeky yet compelling TV spots. The aesthetic is crisp and authentic, yet they do not seem antiquated. I'm always so relieved to see these sophisticated Stella ads and the cinematic contrast they provide to the bar/club scene ads.
This contrast has further positioned Stella as a premium brand, one that economy beer drinkers might set their hopes on consuming In this case of aspirational branding, Stella has transformed the way the womanizing beer drinker is presented, and has become a brand advocate for a mature pursuit of women. The pursuit of sophisticated women with the help of a premium draft wingman.
Based on your perspective, what do you think the new Stella ads are achieving? Do you welcome this sophisticated European approach to beer advertising? Or is this aspirational branding merely masking deeper issues of womanizing or female objectification?
Why couldn't I get my mitts on these elusive mitts? Since the release of the 2010 Canadian Olympic apparel on Oct. 1, the $10 knitted mittens became the runaway heavyweight seller of the collection. The Bay and Zellers have struggled to meet the demand, with some locations selling out of the mittens in days. Their online stores have been out of stock for weeks. The unexpected popularity of the mittens sent shoppers like myself in a frenzy, scouring every retail outlet that might carry them. I, as well as thousands of my compatriots, was stricken by an overwhelming urge to own these red Torchbearer mittens. Why? What are the factors at play that have driven the sales of these mittens so high?
There are a number of factors. Since a Canadian city is hosting the winter games in 2010, this may have played a significant role. The Olympic spirit is definitely soaring as anticipation for the games mount, and as we Canucks yearn to own an Olympic souvenir. Additionally, the proceeds from the mittens support the Own the Podium program, which supports our Canadian Olympic athletes. The mittens are reasonably priced, and of course have that hand-warming property we Canadians seek come the winter months.
Despite the Olympic spirit and charitable affiliation, these mittens have successfully channeled an icon of Canadian nationalism, effectively transforming them into a symbol of patriotism.
The mittens harness the simplicity and power of the maple leaf. The maple leaf - the premiere symbol of Canada has branded our sports teams, our companies, our government, and our troops. This maple leaf is a logo that we use to define ourselves and our country, and has tremendous value ascribed to it. It is our desire to brand ourselves with this logo to express our link to our heritage and our countrymen, and unite across cultural and geographical boundaries. The emblematic foliage of the great maple has come to represent a nation, our sentiments, and pride. Before I get to sentimental, let's return to the concept of Canada's brand.
What's the significance of our allegiance to the Canadian brand? Does our patriotism reflect our need to define ourselves against other dominant national identities? Or could it also be that we cling to the maple leaf in an attempt to reflect what we perceive as being Canadian, like the CBC and hockey? What does it truly mean to be Canadian?
Whatever it may be, HBC got it right.
Nothing warms my heart more than the turning cogs of Canadian patriotism. In December, I'll be watching the torch run through Orangeville, Ont., and a mere glance at my palms will remind me of what we're all here for.
I'm a Film and Media grad, PR graduate and advert enthusiast. Born and raised in Toronto, I'm an avid consumer of everything - TV, film, online media, food, products, brands. I don't discriminate.
