That time I tried Improv

As any mildly self-deprecating person can probably imagine, telling people that you’ve enrolled an improv course is a bit of a daunting affair.

Surprised responses and raised eyebrows tend to spark a domino reaction of internalised defensive responses ranging from “IT’S OKAY, I KNOW I’M NOT FUNNY” to “…but it isn’t like I’m trying and be Amy Poehler or anything.” (Although, in my case, that second one is absolutely true.) There’s just something about it that feels instantaneously exposing, a bit out there and entirely removed from any kind of comfort zone. But it’s for all those reasons that it’s an ideal challenge for creatives to undertake. Let me start at the beginning.

Last year, I stumbled across an article in Creative Review, discussing how skills developed through improvisation can be a real asset to any kind of creative. As ‘Carpe Diem’ may as well be my middle name, I was intrigued enough to sniff out a local group to put the theory to the test. With weekly classes and shows held in both Camden and Haggerston, The Free Association’s taster sessions and introductory courses offered the perfect opportunity to give it a crack. And even if it went absolutely horribly, at least they were both handily above pubs for me to drown my public humiliation in. Luckily, it wouldn’t come to that.

Over the course of eight weeks, it turned out that old adage of there being ‘no such thing as a bad idea’ would really come into its own. This is a safe space where you don’t worry about making a tit of yourself. Surrounded by a fascinating mix of equally curious people from TV presenters to IT engineers, the place transforms from pub function room to a blank canvas to be whoever and whatever you want to be. And nobody bats an eyelid. In fact, if you tell them you’re an arsonist hiding out as a backing singer for Mariah Carey, they’re there to make sure that scenario comes to life for the audience by adding their own contribution. It’s the immense power of the ‘yes and…’ theory coming to life before your eyes – and it’s a game-changer for any kind of creative.

There are some parts of the class that are every bit the cliche that may already reside in your head. Yes, you will have to work through the discomfort of group icebreakers from Haka-like chanting to screaming at each other’s shoes. You will become the physical embodiment of trees, telephones and trampolines with the ease of the free spirited drama school stereotype you never wanted to be. And you’ll even find yourself receiving invisible birthday presents that make you happier than a Miss World contestant at the dawn of world peace. But the most important thing is that there’s not a moment where you’ll feel uncomfortable about looking silly. Mainly because it’s actively encouraged.

Essentially, this is a hardcore bootcamp in stopping taking yourself so damn seriously. And one of the loveliest takeaways from my time as a student was that we should start recognising that “every idea is a gift”. That being willing to listen and respond to what’s offered to us can open us to infinite possibilities that inspire exciting, unexpected and totally batshit outcomes that would otherwise not exist. It’s not hard to see how that attitude might serve you well in your next brainstorming session. Or give you that new reserve of confidence the next time you have to spill the machinations of your mind to a frosty room.

So, whether you’re a creative looking to terrify yourself into being better, or you’re just an adventurous sort looking for a chance to unleash your inner McKinnon, just give it a try. (The pub’s there if you need it.)

You can check out The Free Association here – if you don’t get to a class make sure you check out a show.

Originally posted to LinkedIn on June 20, 2018

4 creative superskills for taking on the world

According to the good people at the Creative Mentor Network, more young people than ever are finding it difficult to find their way into professional creative roles. Why? Well among other things, there’s a common misconception among parents and teachers that there is no real value in building a career in an industry like ours. That an interest in drawing pictures or telling stories is never going to put you on the path to success. That in roles like these, there’s little chance to build all the essential life skills that help important, shiny, high achievers to take on the world.

My lovely Mum is not very well at the moment. We still don’t know what’s wrong or what it will all mean. And I don’t care whether you’re thirteen or thirty – that’s probably as sh*t a life crisis as you’ll get. It was in the long periods spent on the hospital ward with a kindly stranger’s words of “stay strong” still ringing in my ears that I started thinking. Exactly how am I managing? What magical well of level-headedness am I drawing from here? Had this been a few years ago, I’m unsure if I’d be quite so… with it. But I don’t think it’s just an age thing. I’m certain it’s a life skills thing.

Because success in life isn’t all about what your house looks like or what stuff you can afford. It’s about being equipped with all the tools you need to be the very best version of yourself when it matters the most – whether it’s nailing that job interview or picking up the pieces when life goes a bit wrong. So for all the naysaying gatekeepers out there, here are just a few of the useful traits I’ve noticed coming into play over the last few weeks. The superskills I genuinely believe I have my chosen profession to thank for.

Communication

Being able to get people to grasp what you’re trying to explain quickly and clearly is the absolute bread and butter of creative life. It may have just fallen short of producing scamps, but my ability to articulate the broad and complex details of symptoms and behavioural changes has been really helpful in getting the ‘story’ of what’s been going on across to Doctors. Sure, I may have run into a bit of presentation fatigue after the first six or seven times. But you know what? It probably got the right help on the way much quicker than expecting them to work it out. POW!

Resourcefulness

No matter the brand, client or deliverable, every brief that comes our way poses a challenge that we’re geared to tackle. And it was probably with my problem-solving hat on that I identified an issue after two days on the ward. Shift pressures and staff shortages meant nurses generally had no idea about the abnormal circumstances of Mum’s condition and decline. The solution? Drafting a comprehensive timeline and narrative of deterioration, symptoms and change. At the time it felt like I was just trying to be useful somehow, but they ended up being added to her file and referenced by a few of the many changing faces on the ward. THWACK! Copywriting 1, Jeremy Hunt 0.

Resilience

You can’t expect to enter an industry built on supposition and subjectivity and not get your ego burnt a few times. That thicker skin soon starts growing after a few trips back to the drawing board, but that’s no bad thing. Keeping the faith has been an absolute must in my current situation – for my family as much as for myself. Learning how to dig deep when you’re feeling the strain is not something that comes naturally, unless you’re Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. The rest of us have to learn how to be brave. And having your creative heart and soul chewed up and spat out a few times is certainly a great place to start. BLAMMMM!

Networking

Finally, this whole creativity thing is most definitely a team sport. Of course, leaning on my personal networks has been an infinite source of support since day one. But without a doubt, the unique work family that comes with agency life has been an invaluable resource too. My colleagues have been understanding when my stress has made writing a brand narrative seem impossible. Or shuffled schedules around to give me the breathing space I need to make phone calls. (Or bang my head against the wall.) And you know what? With people like that around you, staying strong is always going to seem that little bit easier to manage. ZZZZZZZZZWAP!

Originally posted to LinkedIn on April 18, 2018

#IWD2018: I am not a Female Copywriter

In my industry, I am a Copywriter. Not a ‘Female Copywriter’. It’s a title without labels, and rightly so. Because to separate me from my male counterparts would make me feel like an ‘other’. That my contributions were different in some way. That I’m not quite an equal.

But just because it doesn’t happen here, doesn’t mean it’s not present in other workplaces. Restaurants being a prime example of that. It’s a male dominated world, having to work hard to bring better gender balance to its kitchens. But still, how many times have you heard a woman working in this professional being called a “Female Chef”? Like many questionable phrases in our vernacular, it may well have stemmed from what we see in the media. But it doesn’t really make it okay.

Not being funny but, maintaining gender labels for chefs when less than one in four of them are female, seems like a massive mistake. And before everyone accuses me of betraying the sisterhood, I’m not saying you should disown your female identity. It’s that we should all have the luxury of measuring professional success by the impact of our personality and talent, instead of defining them by our gender. Because if it’s equality we’re after, we need a level playing field. Something that can only happen if we stop creating the barriers ourselves.

So why have I got such a bee in my bonnet about all this? Well, I’m lucky to have Whitbread as a client. And even luckier that as one of the UK’s largest hospitality companies, they’ve allowed me and my creative colleagues to make some noise about this issue to celebrate International Women’s Day. Like every great campaign, it’s been a mad scramble to get it over the finish line. But taking inspiration from the words of real “Female Chefs” speaking straight from the heart, we’ve hopefully started a simple conversation that’ll help give gender labels the chop in professional kitchens.

Do take a look. Please share. Tag your chef mates, whoever they may be. It’s our duty as creatives to bring kindling to the conversations that matter. And hopefully, this is a way for one imbalanced industry to #PressForProgress.

Originally posted to LinkedIn on March 8, 2018

What would Emily do?

Personally, professionally, romantically – whatever type of networking you do, at some point, you’ll inevitably be asked, “So, where are you from?” Having come to realise that not everyone has a keen knowledge of Surrey’s provincial hamlets, I developed a strange habit over the years; bypassing the most straightforward answer and instead opting for the cracking icebreaker of “just down the road from where Emily Wilding Davison threw herself under a horse”.

Since learning about the suffragettes at school, I remember becoming fascinated by the mythology surrounding the event that happened at Tattenham Corner in June 1913 – a short ten minute drive away from my childhood home. Of course, it was the late 90s and still very much unfashionable to try on the guise of ‘feminist’ back then. Least of all for a painfully shy, short-sighted ginger kid. (I really didn’t need any more baggage added to my Buckaroo-like teenage vulnerability, thanks.) But I admired her, I know that. Quietly respecting the courage of a woman who simply wasn’t going to be ignored any more.

Now of course, it’s a very different story. 100 years on from finally fulfilling Emily’s dream, refusing to accept gender inequality is not only commonplace – but a cultural phenomenon. The f-word has undergone a transformation from uncomfortable label to fashionable slogan being commercialised by the likes of Topshop. And everywhere we look, we see the bravery of those willing to throw themselves under their own horses. Whether that’s having the confidence to appear on the front of Time magazine, or the strength to tell that creep on the tube to leave you the f*ck alone.

For a female in the creative industry, there’s a whole herd we still need to overcome. Lack of representation, lower recognition, pay disparity… you name it, it’s running straight for us. But it’s in knowing that we can all have a role – however small – in making that change for the next generation, that we can find the courage to keep stepping out for what we believe in. And to be the ones who refuse to let these important conversations be ignored.

We all need to be a bit more Emily. Because it’s a pretty good place to come from.

Originally posted to LinkedIn on February 8, 2018