Gabardine :: The Continuous Thread

To be clear, my ‘vacation’ consisted of a weekend trip to Baltimore, with a Friday drive down the New Jersey Turnpike thrown in as a bonus.

Unlike other summer getaways planned around a combination of sun, fun and water parks teeming with E-coli, this one had a more practical purpose: My wife and I were delivering our high school junior/senior to a month-long program of intense designy-ness at the Maryland Institute College of Art.

Now before you start penning one of those apple-doesn’t-fall-far-from-the-tree witticisms, you should know that the kid in question is very much his own creative being and possesses artistic talents that make mine look like cave drawings — not the ancient, cool ones; the kind you find on rocky outcroppings created by bands of teenagers sh&%tfaced on Natty Light.

No, Zach’s got real talent (he takes after his Mom). Enough to get him into a prestigious summer program and quite possibly make design a viable career choice. I know, weird, right? But enough about him. Back to the trip…

It was really about food.

Things started innocently enough at Camden Yards, an amazing throwback-style ballpark in the heart of downtown, where we saw the O’s vs. Nat’s. Here’s a breakdown: Decent chow (sliced pork sandwiches on potato rolls, outstanding cole slaw), ridunculous seats (thanks, Jenn), fantastic game (but Nyjer Morgan’s all-star performance wasn’t enough to hold off a 9th-inning, come-from-behind Birds’ win).

Oriole Park at Camden Yards

It was, however, all just a prelude to the crabs, without which no visit to MD would be complete.

Yup, I’m that guy—the one who feels compelled to eat the local specialty on every single road trip, from Trenton to Tokyo. Oh, and I refuse to accept the stuff that’s fobbed off on tourists as ‘authentic.’ I go where the locals go; a practice that’s yielded mixed gastronomic results, but consistently landed me in some fascinating places.

Like Mr. Bill’s Terrace Inn, the top recommendation of our Inner Harbor hotel’s doorman. Located in the quaint (read: honkytonk) community of Essex (which, though technically be in Baltimore, feels more like Cape Fear), Mr. Bill’s is…unique.

Oh sure, they’ve got crabs. [Insert wisecrack here.] And, like most places in the area, they use the crustaceans mainly as elaborate and dangerous delivery systems for hypertension-inducing amounts of Old Bay seasoning.

Old Bay, in case you’re unfamiliar, is a tasty concoction of salt, paprika and crack.

But the real draw at Mr. Bill’s is the people. From the likely underage bartender, to the waitress wearing the Final Net hair helmet, to the friendly food runner delivering mounds of steaming crab to tables of Old Bay-jonesing patrons with one latex glove and an air of sweaty disdain, I was smitten with them, one and all.

The end of the meal resembled a crime scene from Homicide: Life on the street.

White was a bad choice

This time, at least, I was the perp as opposed to the vic. But stay tuned for the next episode. After all, we’ve gotta pick the kid up in a month…

Well surprise, surprise, surprise—we’re in the market for one. And we want it to be you.

Why? Because you’re an accomplished pro, with serious design chops.

You have a ridiculous understanding of creative, both digital and print, which shows in your stunning portfolio.

Beyond the work, though, you’re a student of design. You dig museums and galleries and portfolio reviews and sites that seem esoteric to everyone else. You don’t dream in just color, you dream in textures, finishes, and materials.

In addition to being great at the things you do, you’re great at who you are. We find your personality endearing, and your confidence inspiring.

Of course, we do have some requirements. You should…

• have accounts on the likes of Facebook, Twitter, Flickr and YouTube, and post to them regularly
• play video games with some frequency — or at least watch them for the graphics alone
• carry a sketch pad and camera phone everywhere
• refer to at least 5 sites that provide artistic inspiration
• be able to speak convincingly about the one piece in your portfolio that best represents you as a person

(A passion for food—or lunch, at the very least—is strongly preferred, but not required.)

If you’re interested, let’s talk. Send us a note at jointhegab@gabardine.com, Tweet us @TheGabTweets, or hit us up on FB at TheGabUpdates.

Gabardine's Keith taking product photos.

Keith will shoot your weddings, bar mitzvas and other events, too.

As long as they all fit on this table.

Tuesday nights will never be the same for my husband.  This weekend he said goodbye to a very dear friend.  To prepare for this send-off, we lovingly cooked some dishes in his friend’s honor…Hawaiian pulled pork sandwiches, tropical fruit salad, a peanut butter-based dessert, and Dharma beer (sorry, no hyperlink for this one folks; the genuine stuff is still on some island).

I’m sure I have fellow LOST fans’ attention now.

After a record-breaking two and a half hour finale, I’m convinced psychiatrists will have a slew of new patients.  It should come as no shock, though, as fans of LOST are arguably some of the most loyal, and when you take away an addict’s drug, it’s not a pretty sight.

This February, at the time of this article, over 4,600 LOST fans joined a Facebook page protesting President Obama’s State of the Union address being aired the same night of the LOST finale.  Fortunately, a White House spokesperson discounted the rumor, and LOST fans across red and blue states could be heard cheering.

*On a somewhat hilarious side note, an “Obama is more Important than LOST” Facebook group had only two members and one comment.  I smell a new political marketing campaign.

But this February’s Facebook page is just a sampling of the power social media can have in the hands of dedicated fans – and the power it can have over the success of a show.

With all its cliffhangers, LOST, please excuse the pun, may have been lost on confused viewers just a decade ago.  But with sites such as Dark UFO, Lost Media, and Lost.com viewers found a release for their frustrations and a haven for their otherwise laughable predictions.  If you spend just a few minutes on Lostpedia, it’s pretty apparent the conversations and questions from fans online would not have been done justice around a water cooler at work.

At this moment, I’m sure LOST fans across the nation are weary eyed at work after a late night of LOST-themed dreams/nightmares…or a late night of watching “Jimmy Kimmel Live: Aloha to Lost”.  They will, of course, manage to find time during their Mondays to check all their favorite LOST blogs searching for insight into last night’s unanswered questions: Why didn’t Ben go into the church?  At what point did all the LOST characters “die?”  And are those gorgeous eyelashes of Richard’s real?

The Lost Supper

Me…well, I’m just happy my friends, better known as the cast of Glee, can now overtake our TV screen Tuesday nights.  More on my Gleek lifestyle later.  That is, if I can convince the guys at The Gab show tunes are worthy of a blog post….

Some things hurt soooooo good, they should be illegal. (And, let’s face it: Some are.)

But take your mind out of the gutter for a minute, and you’ll see it’s true for lots of things; like the way you feel after a tough workout, or when you eat one of those ridiculously tart candy-thingies your kids bring home on Halloween and absolutely must be sampled to ensure the li’l uns’ safety.

I know, it's uncanny right?

Lately, we’re finding out first-hand that the same is true for growing businesses. Or for ours, at least.

As word gets around about Gabardine and our list of happy clients grows, so do the complexities of running the agency itself. From program management to payroll and everything in between, stuff gets exponentially tougher with each new piece of business. And here’s the thing: We’re loving every excruciating minute of it.

Why? Because it’s what we’ve always wanted to do. What we were meant to do.  And, for that matter, what we should have done a long time ago. (But that’s a different story altogether.)

The point is, we recognize our growing pains for what they are, i.e. tangible, honest-to-goodness indicators that we’re doing something right, and that Gabardine is fulfilling its promise—not just for us, but for our clients. And that’s an awesome feeling. But how are we dealing with the discomfort? Glad you asked…

For one thing, we’ve added a bunch of  people in positions that are incredibly important to delivering on our service model, including a senior project manager, a marketing coordinator, a director of digital experience and a writer/IA, to name a few. And we’re on the hunt for mid-level graphic designer who can help us conceive and execute more good works. If you know somebody who fits the bill, let us know.

We’re also looking for larger space. (Though that may have more to do with my volume control problems and Keith’s penchant for speed metal than actual physical limitations.)

Finally, we continue to expand our universe of amazing contract creative talent. Truth be told, in this regard the economic downturn has worked in our favor. As big, bloated agencies and once-profitable brands shed great people, we’re able pick them up to work on terrific projects for our burgeoning client roster. Funny how things work out.

Finally, we’re putting our financial house in order; using the information and insights of the past 10 months of growth to inform future planning—for materials, resources, space…everything. As you might imagine, this is tough stuff for a couple of creative guys. But here, too, we’ve got some incredibly talented folks with tremendous experience helping small agencies become big ones. So we’re following their guidance, even as we continue to lead with our guts.

After all, guts (and chutzpah; and maybe a little luck) is what got us here—a place where we have the pleasure of feeling that little bit of pain that goes along with growing something you believe in.

Originally submitted by Mary Shaw sometime during the festival (we may never know precisely when)…

Greetings from beautiful Austin, Texas. I’m writing from Maria Maria’s, an inspired Mexican restaurant reminiscent of the kind of place you would find deep in interior Mexico.

The ambiance is Mexican cool, with lots of dark woods and cozy, large leather seats. A metal sculpture of a mesquite tree is in the center of the bar area and the entire restaurant is al fresco – no windows.

But enough about the ambiance. I’ve been making an annual pilgrimage here since 2006 to help keep my user experience and general web skills current. There are literally 1200 speakers here this year. Choosing which sessions to attend has been both a joy and a challenge.

As I write this, I’m watching hundreds of Facebook developers make their way into the bar next door. Apparently they don’t like Mexican food, but they love free beer. The line wraps clear around the block.

Besides the constant party scene, the festival offers tons of opportunities to learn from interactive thought leaders from all over the world, including social media icons Gary Vaynerchuk and Evan Williams, co-founder of Twitter.

This year there is a heavy focus on customer experience and content strategy. There’s also a lot of buzz around sketching proposed user experiences on paper with the client very early in the design process. The overarching theme is collaborative iteration and the improved products that result when ideas are clearly articulated, communicated, understood and refined from the get-go.

Kinda sounds like the continuous thread we constantly talk about here at Gabardine. This thread often begins as a simple spark of an idea and then, by virtue of true collaboration and discussion, weaves itself into every piece of a brand’s messaging and subsequent collateral, whether it’s an on or offline experience.

This openness and transparency only happens when everyone gets a chance to contribute. The more clients and agencies engage in open and honest discussion around business goals and customer needs, the stronger all of our communications will become. And that’s a great thing.

An abbreviated version of this post appeared as a comment to a column in Ad Age…

I’ve been paying a lot of attention to the trades these days, looking for forums to talk about what we believe in, and staying abreast of trends. Do I think/hope the former will lead to new business opportunities? Oh faher sher.

I’d posit the same is true for just about every contributor to a trade publication who’s got a related business.

And then there’s Barry Wacksman, EVP-chief growth officer, R/GA.

The January 11 issue of Advertising Age features a column penned by Mr. Wacksman in which he urges agencies to strive not for ‘lead’ status among a roster of agency partners, but instead for the vaunted title of ‘dream’ agency.

In defining this entity, Mr. Wacksman says ‘it would have a thorough understanding of how consumers think and feel, but also how they seek and make and share and transact.’ I know, groundbreaking. But stay with me, as I did with him…

He goes on to say that the dream agency wouldn’t be wedded to a specific type media; it would be nimble and capable and, most important, innovative, whether working online or off.

‘Right on, brotha,’ I said. (Well, it was really more of a thought. That’s when I tend to channel my inner blaxploitation persona.) ‘Go on witcha bad self.’

Is that coat reversible?

Wacksman continues by pointing out that the ability to execute brilliant ideas—not just conceive of them—would be the dream agency’s key attribute. And, moreover, that said agency would, by dint of its skill, media acumen and strategic insight, become the client’s most valuable partner, regardless of whether or not they’re called the ‘lead.’

‘Testify!’ I cried. (When the moment strikes, my inner dialog can get really spiritual.)

Then Wacksman winds up for the big finish, when he reveals what type of agency is best positioned to grab for this brass ring.

And the winner, he says, is ‘…the current crop of large, independent digital-age agencies.’

Which is funny, because that rules out Wacksman’s agency, an Interpublic joint.

So the question is “Do you think good ol’ Barry is just the gosh-darned nicest, real-est and most secure guy on the planet, to go ahead and endorse a type of agency that his is not…or did he just black out for a minute and forget that he and his whole operation are actually part of the borg?” I’m betting the latter.

I’m also betting that Barry got an extra-special invitation to lunch with Bob Greenberg after the piece ran.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to believe that somebody in this super-competitive industry had the guts to tell it like it is, even if that meant a gentle bitch slap to the folks who sign his paycheck.

But I think the truth is more likely that Barry just got tired after writing all those words and became delusional to the point of believing that R/GA really is an independent entity, rather than part of one of the largest agency holding companies in the world, with over 40,000 employees and more than $7 billion in annual revenue.

Independent? Um, not so much.

Ali's all 'Ima git you, sucka.' And Joe's all 'Do you wax, 'cause those brows are flawless.'

So about the title of this post: It’s not a competition, like Ali vs. Frazier, or Superargo vs. Diabolicus (a movie so friggin’ cool that it’s literally one of the few TV memories I’ve retained since childhood; the others being every episode of Abbott and Costello, including the slightly creepy The Time of Our Lives).

It’s more a matter of opinion, you know, like Nature vs. Nurture. As with that old chestnut, the question of whether people are just venal pricks at heart or if it’s the workplace that makes them that way is a source of never-ending curiosity. Well, to me, at least.

I thought about this the other day while having lunch with a friend and former colleague, who’s about year into a great gig with what for all intents and purposes seems like an amazing company (all open and friendly and creative and sh%&). He’s got a ton of responsibility—the good kind—a crackerjack team and the faith and trust of the big boss. Life’s good, right? Well, apparently, not so much.

Lately he’s run into some resistance in the firm, mostly other senior managers who, for whatever reasons, aren’t making things easy for him. Of course, this could be due to any number of factors: Poor social skills. Halitosis. Rickets.

But I know this guy, and trust me: He’s great. Smart, funny, engaging, well mannered, well groomed (something methinks Joe would appreciate (see caption, above)), and a genuine team player—the kind who’s always looking for ways to collaborate, make things better and celebrate the achievements of others.

Right about now you’re probably thinking one of two things. Either A) This guy sounds amazing; I wonder what he’s doing for the Jewish holidays, or B) It is a cosmic impossibility that such a person is friends with Leeds. Both are legitimate, but neither is germane to this post. Think of this paragraph as the textual equivalent of a musical interlude.

The point is, this guy’s a friggin’ gem. Oh, and did I mention he’s a star? Like he actually gets stuff done and proactively comes up with all these cool ways to further the business and the company’s brand? Yeah, that too.

So why, I wonder, is he catching flack?

Could it be that offices, by dint of their stark walls, common toilets and color copiers somehow cause otherwise normal people to become petty, spiteful, backstabbing a-holes? Or is it that such behavior is really just part of our makeup, like an enzyme that’s genetically triggered when more than a handful of us are gathered in the same place, collecting semi-monthly paychecks?

I’ve concluded the answer is Yes. Offices are breeding grounds for the detestable behavior of horrid people. And, by the same token, most of those horrid people are just genetically wired to be jerks—no assembly or external factors required. So, what to do…

Well, a lot of us have chosen to make another option for ourselves, i.e. create a new paradigm, in a different kind of office with fundamentally good people. Sounds like dope-smoking, free-love, kids-running-naked-around-the-commune stuff, I know, but it feels right and, for a lot of folks, actually seems to work. Go figure.

Sure beats the office version of the Thrilla in Manilla.

Not to mention a full kitchen, spacious meeting area and sparkling bathroom facilities, all in a bucolic country setting.

A sweatshop to call our own

(Granted, it’s not exactly a Pennysaver write-up, but it does describe Gabardine’s new offices to a ‘T.’)

That’s right: Gabardine. New offices. Free refreshments. Bathroom. It’s all here in scenic and provocative Westport, Connecticut, where we’ve chosen to put down roots and hang the very first official Gabardine shingle.

The address:

Gabardine
1720 Post Road East
Suite 124
Westport, CT 06880

Main: (203) 635-4322
Fax: (866) 510-7086

It’s a great space, and we’re quickly settling in—just take a gander at the pics; earn extra credit if you can spot Keith’s ubiquitous can of Coke ZERO!

Look at it, in all its majesty

I give that plant a week, tops

Mmmm...smells creative

Most important, the office is a testament to the legitimacy and, indeed, resiliency of Gabardine; an agency born just one year ago (just as the high-flying US markets began their steep descent toward National Recession Airport) and which has survived—thrived, in some respects—despite the prevailing crapstorm that is, regrettably, still the domestic economy.

That’s not to say it’s been all sweetness and light, but we genuinely think the best is yet to come, and if we’ve made it this far under these circumstances, the future’s bound to be pretty awesome.

We hope you agree, and decide to join us for the ride…or at least a refreshing beverage.

Just let us know when you’re dropping by so we remember to bring pants. (It’s always a bottomless work week in Westport—yippee!)

True, it’s not an uncommon occurrence, but this time I’m going public.

It all started innocently enough: An email arrived from SocialMedian, a service that claims to offer news, filtered by your network. And there, under the heading Marketing, was a piece that someone had clipped called ‘Find your voice.’

Normally I’d dismiss such a trite, overused term as another turd in the sea of crap marketing advice, but this was different. The source, was ‘Seth’s blog.’

For those who may not be aware, the term ‘Seth,’ in marketing circles, means Seth Godin. No, really. He’s like Cher, but bald—famously bald, in fact. It’s his trademark, don’tcha know? He’s also an author/blogger/speaker and, in the eyes of many, an all-seeing oracle on things marketing and new media related.

I’ve read a couple of Seth’s books and heard him speak, but the truth is I’ve always been a little dubious of him and, for that matter, others of his ilk. And by that I mean folks who make their primary living telling other people what to do. Whether the subject matter is social media, real estate foreclosure or Dianetics, I just find it difficult to really get behind someone who’s preaching and not doing.

I clicked through to the post anyway. (Warning: The sheer genius of what you are about to read may cause rectal bleeding.)

Find Your voice

Marketing (in all its forms) is unlike everything else an organization does, because it’s always different. There’s no manual because everyone does it differently, and what successful marketers have in common is that they are successful.

The only way your organization is going to make an impact is to market in the way only you can. Not by following some expert’s rules or following the herd, but by doing it in the way that works. For you. Don’t worry about someone else’s invented standards for new media, invent your own. Avoid obvious mistakes, don’t follow obvious successes.

Find your voice, don’t copy someone else’s.

Wow. Still with me, or did you blackout somewhere around ‘what successful marketers have in common is that they are successful?’

Yup, you guessed it: Here’s where the calling bullsh%&t comes in. Because Seth’s blog doesn’t allow comments (which, BTW, sort of defeats the point of social/new media),  I left a quick riposte on SocialMedian, but then I thought about it some more…

This is a joke, right?

‘…market the only way you can’? WTF is that, some self-help bs he got from an EST seminar in 1978?

And I love ‘avoid obvious mistakes.’ Really Seth? Think that’s a good idea? ‘Cause I was just about to infect myself with the h1n1 virus right after I invested all my savings with what remains of the Madoff clan!

The height of irony—or is it hubris?—is the part where Seth cautions that your organization isn’t going to find marketing success ‘by following some expert’s rules…’ Weird, because from what I can tell Mr. Godin makes a nice chunk of change serving as just such an expert. Go figure.

Look, I appreciate that the guy is about as prolific as they come, writing, speaking and consulting like a Jack Russell terrier who got into his master’s meth stash. And it must be damn hard work coming up with new and interesting things to say as often as must be required by the machine that is Seth, Inc. But, with apologies to all you Godin sycophants out there (and it’s true I count many of you as friends), I have to say that with this little bit of profundity the guy has officially jumped the shark.

You know, it’s kind of like what your Mom used to say: If you don’t have anything even moderately worthwhile to say, don’t say anything at all. (I said ‘kind of’ like…)

That’s it for now. But stay tuned, I’ll call again.

Update: re-posted on Fatt Lipp by our good buddy John Fatteross