Makeover FTW
Help us get our Don Draper on for the spring.
I do NOT draw crotches. That shit is free-handed.
Remember when you were six years old and found a piece of paper big enough to trace your friend? Remember how innocent it all seemed, especially when you reached the upper inner thigh? Flash forward to this afternoon at FREE.
So, who doesn’t need $5,000 to spruce up their wardrobe for Spring? Well, maybe Vince (and Mike) as he refused to participate… But everyone else at the agency jumped on the bandwagon. Some had to be shoved in front of said wagon, but we picked them up just the same.
Southgate Centre has a contest on right now: the Office Style Upgrade. Given what’s at stake, $5,000 and a makeover by Eveline Charles for the team, a little sweat equity seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. All we had to do was upload a photo of our office in our less than appealing wears and post it to Facebook.
Spearheading this initiative, I got to know each of my team members quite intimately. I was quick to disclose, however, that I do NOT draw crotches. That shit is free-handed. Oh, and for the ladies, a quick nip and tuck at the hips and thighs is just an extra courtesy. You’d be surprised what kind of awkward conversation can be made as you gingerly balance over someone whilst tracing their bod.
In the end, will all the hard work (and sucking it in) be worth it? We’d appreciate your help if you can spare it. Hell, I’ll even throw in a FREE body tracing… I may even trace your crotch if you’re lucky. Tell your friends.
THE TIME TO VOTE HAS COME:
http://www.southgatecentre.com/programs-jobs/your-office-only-hotter-contest/
You can only vote once a day per IP address (if you’re in the same office, you’ll need to vote from a smart phone or at home). The crotch tracing offer still stands! I will do more than one of those PER office!!
Happy Single Awareness Day
An Open Letter to the MOST Important Holiday
of the Year
Technically, most kisses begin with either alcohol or uncomfortable small talk, says Mr. Israel.
Dear Single’s Awareness Day (also known as Valentine’s Day),
From an advertising perspective, I’d like to thank you. It’s because of days like you (and Christmas) that our industry continues to flourish. Think about all the different ways you challenge us to remind people of their innate loneliness… people in couples can’t even escape this feeling if we’ve done our jobs properly. We groom everyone early. Who wouldn’t want a Happy Valentine’s Day wish scribbled on the back of a Thomas the Train card? “I choo…choo… choose you!”
Even in 4th grade, an empty heart-shaped, makeshift mailbox feels like crap. In a perfect world, we sold you the chocolate that made you feel better.
Chocolate comfort in grade 4, in turn, may have led to a life-long battle with emotional eating. To which we have the solution: a gym membership. Of course you can’t wear just anything to the gym – how about some overpriced technical gear? We have just what the doctor, or yoga studio, ordered.
When you leave that change room, you’ll probably notice how red your face is or greasy your hair may have gotten. No worry. Use these numerous beautifying products and you’ll be just fine. Ready to meet someone, even. You know, so you don’t have to spend this Valentine’s Day ugly crying at The Vow. Although, we’ve also sold you that idea – that you’ll be sharing your Valentine’s Day with Channing Tatum (or Rachel McAdams… but let’s face it, nobody’s going to choose her over him, myself included).
Some lasting messages I associate your holiday with include:
“Every kiss begins with, Kay.” Technically, most kisses begin with either alcohol or uncomfortable small talk. Score 1 for us.
“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” Really? In the majority of scenarios, a girl’s best friend is someone of similar socioeconomic status that has engaged in some type of lasting two-way relationship. Rarely is her name, Diamond.
This Single’s Awareness Day, I’m going to capitalize on a new card market with my friend, Jess. These cards will be targeted at the nosey neighbors, coworkers or caregivers who may be aware of any indiscretions you couples have made these past 364 days. They shall read, “Snitches Get Stitches.”
By this time next year, Jess and I will be millionaires. Most certainly we won’t be single then.