In praise of people who break the rules...

"I thought you'd like to know. Deirdre is staying with Ken." I'll never forget where I first heard it. Denmark Hill station. The nation was gripped. It was 1983. Would Deirdre stay with Ken or do a flit with Mike? Coronation Street had never been so hot. 


The chap doing the announcements at Denmark Hill had broken ranks, he'd strayed from the guidelines to give us the news because being one of us he knew that those of us travelling when it was showing wanted to know. And this, girls and boys, was way before the days of mobiles and the web as difficult as it may be for some of you to imagine such a prehistoric landscape.

It was really quite special. Everyone on both sides of the platforms started applauding and laughing, as did the announcer. Commuters began chitty-chatting to each other and all because one chap shared his whimsy. People who work for people are people too and should be allowed to be so. It is winning behaviour, not destructive or hostile.

There should be much, much more of it about. And there is, as any regular traveller on the tube knows. There's more than a few comedians working down there. It's good customer relations...understanding what's going on and not being afraid to give of yourself, to be yourself, even if it's not in the rulebook.

It should be page one.

The Mousetrap - or how keeping your trap shut is a bad idea

"You're feeling relaxed...more relaxed than you've ever felt before...Listen to my voice. Just my voice and relax. The next time you eat chocolate it will taste like raw, bloody liver." So said the hypnotist at Champneys.

It was some years ago. A four-day detox prompted by a little – shall we say – relationship to-do. In spectacularly unoriginal fashion I'd taken refuge with my friend Mr. Absolut and industrial quantities of the cocoa-based stuff. And having long assured myself that my arse would never be as big as my head, I was spurred into action when I realized that this was no longer the case: a high-flyer still, but now one in the form of a balloon-dog.

I'm not, generally speaking, one for anything with the prefix of 'alternative' (comedy apart) but things had got to the point where I'd try anything. I was prostrate and Paul McKenna-lite had asked me to name the most revolting thing I could be asked to eat and bloody, raw liver was top of the list. He started to do his 'thing'. But the more he told me that I was 'under' the greater my realization that I was not. But I didn't want to embarrass the chap so I went along with it.

On the drive back I wondered if I had indeed been put under. Never having done it before, how would I know? There was only one way to find out. Having dropped my bag in the hall I marched over to the fridge, which I knew was keeping a Chocolate Orange warm for me. I tapped it. Unwrapped it and then, gingerly, put half a segment in my mouth. Bugger me! It tasted just like...Chocolate Orange. So much for that.

I suppose my will is too great. I can't be persuaded that black is white and the wool cannot be pulled. This episode came back to me lately because I started to wonder why some companies indulge in their own brand of corporate hypnotism and think they can get away with it. You know, company X fecks-up big time in a very public fashion. Everyone knows they've fecked-up and why. But instead of admitting it and putting into practice the stuff they drone on about such as, ‘knowing their customers are not stupid’ and that 'authenticity is key', they sail on as if nothing happened. Worse still, they spin, or try to persuade us that it was all about something else all along.

Take Tesco – their flagship Covent Garden store was unceremoniously closed just over a month ago by Westminster council. I turned up one lunchtime to find the doors locked and lots of people taking photos of something stuck in the window. It was an order of closure, which outlined, in monochrome, why I'd now have to schlepp over to Regent Street: an infestation of mice, poor in store cleaning and hygiene regimes. Oh dear!

For three days it was the biggest tourist and local attraction in WC2. It was all over the media and a prime topic of conversation and not just in that neck of the woods. Locals and regulars pondered over the extra fillings that they might have possibly ingested.

Some days later 'window blocker' posters appeared telling us that Tesco was bringing us a 'brighter store' on April 10th. Deep-clean aside, it was clear to me that the enforced closure was being used as an opportunity (disguise) to introduce the recently announced in store rebranding elements. But there was no mention of 'the problems', just something that seemed to suggest that they were tarting the place up and thus doing us all a big favour. Disingenuous and foolish, I thought, especially given the prevailing mutinous mood: the inconvenience, the mice and the ..."I don’t want to think about it." Many I know have voted with their feet and defected to Sainsbury’s and M&S, vowing never to set foot in the place again.

What will they do to reassure that all is now well and problems resolved, I wondered? I needn’t have wasted my time; because the answer is that they did big, fat, nothing. An in store poster of acknowledgement and apology was the least they could do, I thought. But no. Nothing. Just a load of balloons, 'warming' bits of wood over the bakery bit, vinyl graphics on the columns and people on the street offering £3 off a minimum £10 shop. It's like it never happened.

'Look at my balloons. Look at my balloons. Not around the balloons. You're under. Nothing happened here. No problem here.' But there was a problem and we all know what the problem was and we really don't like being taken for fools, Mr. Clarke. It doesn't take anywhere as long to get in and out of the store now. I wonder why?

Transparency, Tesco. It's a must. Admit and acknowledge and it goes away. Spin, ignore or deny and it goes on. You propagate, annoy and alienate.

The truth, Tesco. Every little helps...you.

Brands are in the heart

I’ve been surrounded by footie shirts all day and it’s occurred to me that the biggest branding opportunity in football club strips is literally a one-off opportunity. No branding. None. An opportunity to go back to the glory days of colours and club shields and club logos. Back to the clean, crisp, distinct, stylish and innocent days of belonging…not business. Who’s the team who has nothing on their shirts? The name on everyone’s lips. Sales? Through the roof, Brian.