Screw the Bling, Brands Are a Girl’s Best Friend
It’s a sunny day outside. And I’m the kind of girl who loves to be outdoors doing something active on pretty July days when I’m serendipitously not in the office. I’m pretty much a gear-head and I think the only adventure sport I’m not fully equipped to engage in is probably ice climbing. (Never say never.) But somehow as I look out the window at a gorgeous day, I’m sitting behind the computer. I could be biking or hiking or kayaking. But here I am. Reading about brands. Tweeting about brands. And wondering why I can’t tear myself away for just an hour to play.
At this moment I have déjà vu, remembering life as a 9 year-old girl buried inside a magazine, indoors on a Texas summer day while the neighborhood kids jumped through sprinklers and chased each other around the block.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
This isn’t the first time I ever found myself trading off a pretty day in favor of something mentally blingy.
I’ve had a love of brands for as long as I can remember. As a child I was mesmerized by every nuance and every detail. From the shiny faux metal bezels that wrapped imprinted car logos on dashboards, to the TV commercials where carefully-placed crescendos played at the precise moment the product flashed on screen. Anything that told a story in short, bite-sized morsels that could keep my ADD brain satiated and free from boredom had my undivided attention.
Due to a genetic glitch which allowed me to effortlessly memorize at a single pass, I had most of the popular slogans and jingles in TV commercials swirling in head, probably to the chagrin of friends who had to listen to me randomly weave them into conversation. I distinctly remember losing a would-be boyfriend in second grade when he whispered to me from across the aisle to “give him” flashcards and I sauntered over, slapped them on his desk, and quipped “You WAAAANT it? You got a Toy-o-ta.”
That was a short-lived relationship. These days he’s a friend on Facebook so I guess the damage wasn’t all that substantial.
Looking back, my preoccupation with brands was probably more symptomatic of OCD than a conscious understanding of brand association. But the result was the same nonetheless. Decades later I write a blog about brands.
I remember consuming my family’s magazine subscriptions like they were candy. Hours upon hours of my childhood were spent with my nose between sheets of paper. There was only one thing that could keep me from galavanting around the neighborhood on my bike or bullying the neighborhood boys on a sunny day. And that was those glossy magazines, and the sexy, faraway world they captured on every page.
Visiting the dentist was made almost bearable due to the monster selection of reading material. And I had caveman teeth so I spent a lot of time at the dentist. A lot of waiting room magazine time. It’s a miracle I didn’t become an interior decorator. Or a National Geographic photographer. Or a marine commando. (It was Texas. Didn’t everyone read Soldier of Fortune?)
When I was a kid, my parents drove a Buick. Or at least my mom did. My dad drove a Blazer. We were apparently Chevy people. (GM in a pinch). The blazer was so cool and trucky and masculine. But I barely remember riding in it except for the occasional Saturday when my dad would attach his boat to it and haul us to the shore (where it would just break down in about twenty minutes anyway). I still remember the brand.
But yeah. The Buick was the car I spent the most time in. And that’s where I recall most of my first brand experiences.
I remember hours of watching the world go by from the cushiony red velvet seats of that old Buick. First as a child in small-town South Texas where most of the brands I saw were John Deere tractors rolling across fields of cotton, or the big red Texas stop signs of Dairy Queen.
At nine years old, my family moved to Dallas and that back seat became witness to a whole other galaxy of brands. I remember hours of commuting into and out of downtown with my parents. Them to work, me and my brother and sister to school. Time well spent in that Buick, exposed to countless billboards for Gilby’s gin and Marlboro cigarettes.
Those moustached Marlboro men reminded me of Tom Selleck. That was a good thing.
And this was Dallas. So of course there were boards for Neiman Marcus, Lord & Taylor, and Cadillacs. And 24-hour bail bonds.
Advertising was everywhere. Advertising for whatever might stoke the material fires of Generation Jones. Big-haired Dallas women were the original “real housewives.” In the fourth grade I remember a classmate’s mother picking her up from the playground in a full-length mink coat. In a Cadillac. My guess is she saw the billboards, too.
My more down-to-earth mom worked at a radio station and I had to spend about an hour at her office before school every day. The selection of magazines at a radio station totally trumped the dentist’s office. D Magazine, Texas Monthly, and The Dallas Morning News were the windows to the outside of my 10 year-old world. I’m half sure it was more about the slick advertising than the articles about Lakewood socialites or where the governor dined when he visited Dallas.
More likely, I was transfixed by the beauty, sophistication, and perfection of Benson & Hedges menthol smokers and that hip crowd over at Benetton.
My brother and sister sat around bickering, but I was transfixed by the smorgasboard of what years later would come to be known as “content.” Yes. Advertising is content. It always has been. It’s just that now brands are finally getting it.
As much as brands in the past have been focused on selling product, what they didn’t realize was the importance of telling the story. Sure, brands have always been storytellers and the best have embraced it since the dawn of time. But now, it’s more critical than ever that the focus is off the “bling” and onto the content, onto the brand stories.
And I’m betting there are plenty of wide-eyed girls ready to be mesmerized by them. Although they should really find a little more time to go outside and show those neighborhood boys how to throw a football.
Join the Conversation…
What were your first brand experiences?
What were your favorite brands as a child?
How did your early exposure to brands affect you?
How do you think today’s children will be affected by brands?
October has been a busy month and November already seems to be putting it to shame. After a whirlwind of marketing and social media events over the last 30 days (where I got to meet Gary Vaynerchuk and Robert Scoble, just to name-drop a few), it’s time for the next conference: ad:tech NY. 

You may not like today’s post. 