It's about their economy, stoopid.

I'm digging their victory. Digging the brands that by accident, design or accidental design, have hit the spot - set the right tone in these nouveau times of austerity. For those brand owners - and us creators - who believe that bigger is better, that expensive is exciting and that flashier is fabulous, they pose an important question: is your spend really necessary? They highlight the need to get the thinking right…first. And underscore the rewards of investing in great ideas - and the futility of trying to 'make do and mend' by chucking money at 'it'. Here are a few examples of what I mean.

Walk into Covent Garden piazza and in the spot that used to house Ponti's you'll find an eaterie called, Canteen, stationed amongst the frou-frou cookie shops, boutiques and faux Parisian patisseries. Its utility distinguishes it from the gentrified. The signage is a mixture of Lilliputian Blackpool Illuminations and typography which takes its cues from seemingly everyone’s favorite wartime poster - Keep Calm and Carry On - and it is unambiguous in its proposition: Canteen: Great British Food.

The space is defined by hideous glass panels, the ugliness of which is disguised by homely and wholesome garden wickerwork. The furniture - reclaimed tables and chairs of tubular steel and bent plywood - is the standard fayre of work and school canteens the world over. All have seen better days; the chipped paint, eroded varnish and gouged ply chart the contours of a life in service.

The bar and kitchen are housed in sheds, which are a hybrid of beach huts and potting sheds. Condiments sit on the tables in their natural branded state and outdoor flame heaters and neon strings lights lend atmosphere - and there are sturdy but plain blankets for the legs of patrons should it turn a bit nippy. It's the adversity that appeals to a populace who will happily picnic in a lay-by, on windswept, chilly beaches and questionable, soggy campsites. We seem to find a touch of the uncomfortable comforting in our leisure.

It's all done on a shoestring - spend kept to a minimum - since theirs is a six-month tenancy, a stopgap until the new tenant takes up residence. Shame, because the concept is a good one, it's very different to their other outposts and in my view it's better. It's right by accident. It's timely. It captures the zeitgeist and they could have built on that by hosting tea dances, the performance element of which is in keeping with the location and the connectivity such activity demands and generates is very much in keeping with the spirit of this Olympic year. The tourists would have lapped it up.

But it all ends on 3rd March when the new tenant - who I now know to be Jamie Oliver - takes over the space. Great! Just what the world needs, another Jamie Oliver restaurant. It's all about the rents, of course, which currently stand at £250k pa and he's one of the few who can afford it. But is it the right fit? Since the vast majority of visitors I give directions to in that neck of the woods are looking for a sit down and a cuppa - a snack - in non-threatening surroundings. They'll miss the geniality of the Canteen.

A whole lot of next to nothing

The stage version of The Woman in Black is a master class in economy - it's both ahead of its time and of today - but there's nothing poor about this production. It's probably the richest play I've seen and no matter how many times I see it, it still scares the crap out of me. Essentially a two-hander with one set, brilliant lighting and goose-bump inducing sound effects, it's been playing in London since 1989 and the stellar performances have turned a 30 year-old novel into a global brand. There are no gimmicks, no wild distractions - there's almost nothing to look at - and so you see and hear more. Anyone who works in the realm of brand experience should see it, because just like radio your head fills in the gaps. This is how people really learn. They fill in the gaps. They join the dots. Putting it all on a plate will never do it. You don't stand a ghost of a chance.

More for less

Aldi similarly arrests because of the quality of the idea, the scripts and the sparseness of the end product in comparison to its competitors. The ads are a pitch-perfect embodiment of the Aldi proposition: economy without compromise on quality. It is their very stillness that sets them apart. There are no clebs, grand location shots with models from the 60's, or highly irritating chefs. (Back to you Jamie Oliver.) They make the extravagance of swooping helicopters and Busby Berkley routines look very poor indeed. It works because it's of us. We can identify with them and laugh with them. Eat your extravagant heart out M&S.

Upstairs Downstairs

Everyone talks about Downton Abbey. How marvelous it is - how wonderful. But I don't get it, because Upstairs Downstairs did it all so much better over 40 years ago. The original series is screened Saturday mornings on ITV 3. They show two episodes back to back. Joy! It's the economy of it that makes it so intimate. It was videoed rather than filmed so we feel that we're there, that we're part of the household. It was shot mostly in sets representing half a dozen rooms in 165 Eaton Place and very basic ones too by today's standards: certainly by Downton Abbey standards. It's more theatrical, more Play for Today than filmic. But the writing, characterisation and acting are superior in every respect. It is because of the economies of scale that we focus on the acting, the words and the story lines. You listen…carefully, because there’s so much less to look at. It's just better. Full stop.

So less is most definitely more. I'm not saying don't spend - just spend on the thinking. Feel and aim for the quality...not the width.