More often than not, people are judged on first appearances.
Like how you assume all those who wear a combo of aviator glasses and polo tees with the most retarded horse you’ve ever seen have the tendency to sit outside Bukit Bintang while listening to music on their friend’s Sony Ericsson.
Or if you’re behind the wheel of a Proton Wira that has more plastic on the exterior than last night’s Academy Awards, there is probably a slight possibility that you think Jay Chou is the second coming, and have wet dreams about crooning along with him and some other singer called Avacado (replace with some other food if you want).
There’s the chance that when you look at anyone wearing a gold chain and bell-bottoms with loafers, topped with a shirt that has the legendary Bob Marley on it with flames adorning his sleeves, you assume he hangs out at Waikiki, has Kingfisher for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and when he feels like it, slaps his cousin who he is supposed to get married to because she deserves it; with the aforementioned Kingfisher.
Or if you’re really superficial, you think that anyone riding on a Yamaha RXZ has a larger collection of handbags than Paris. No, not the girl. The city.
But all that aside, I personally don’t think it’s cool to judge on first appearances. Mostly because I’ve been on the brunt of it. It gets tiring explaining that just because I look like this and I’m in advertising, it doesn’t mean that all I do all day is take 5 minutes every 5 minutes to shoot cocaine for 5 minutes. No, mom. Don’t worry. Mrs. Chan is lying.
So when it comes to work, I don’t want to pass any form of criticism unless I’ve worked with them.
HOWEVER, it’s not my fault if you tick all the right boxes. It’s also not my fault when you refuse to break out of the shell that people have built for you and allow yourself to be easily categorised.
There’s so many stereotypical things that can be said about you. Yes, you, the intern that is suddenly an art director. It can be said that you’re a typical dumb blonde. It can also be said that you’re tai poh mou lou / tua nee boh nao / big breast no brain.
But if you’re hardworking, take initiative, and willing to learn, humble, and sure that you’re aware that you might be in over your head, then I highly doubt these are the things that people can say about you.
Unfortunately, you’re none of the above. We’ve tried helping you. We’ve tried explaining to you this is what you should do, and show you how things are done. It’s a learning experience for all of us. We can learn what it’s like to guide, and probably learn something from you, and you in turn learn from us.
In fact we were told to work with you to help you become a better creative.
Unfortunately, in your mind, you got the same brief apparently.
Firstly, your layouts look like Powerpoint presentations. I didn’t say this. A multi-award winning ECD said this. The designer said so. The tea lady who has glasses thicker than bulletproof windows said so. Yet somehow, you don’t see that. And when it’s pointed out to you, you feign nonchalance.
Let’s start by talking about your ability to conceptualise. You know, one basic skill of every creative. The last we spoke to you, you presented two ideas for one campaign. Impressive. But then you used the same medium in both your ideas. Unimpressive. And almost the same idea, worded differently. Even more unimpressive.
When we shared ideas with you, hoping to get some proper feedback, and show you why is it that we made the choices we made (which was a luxury, since we weren’t obligated to). Instead, you took the higher ground, and just because you learned how to use Google last week to obtain info, you asked a question for the sake of asking a question.
To illustrate my point, would you ask someone why is it that they are folding paper when the company sells origami services. What did you say? You won’t ask why, because that’s a stupid question? Well, no arguments here then.
Here’s some championship material. We noticed that you joined the strategic planners for a discussion. We can’t help but notice because they can’t STFU, and each one of them are competing to see who has taken more Ricola in the morning. But I digress.
Anyway, for your information, a discussion works when everyone contributes. So when you just sit there and laugh, and make acute observations (“Yeah. It’s dark because it’s at night.”) you’re not contributing, therefore rendering your time redundant.
On that note, when you present, stop drawling, and repeating your point 5 times but saying it differently. Another example to illustrate my point is that it’s similar to me telling you this ball is round because it isn’t square and that it’s not triangle, and it’s not all the other shapes so there is only one shape left which is round. Confusing but making me sound retarded? More than normal? Yes.
Since we’re on the topic, a TVC storyboard (that boxy thing you fill with pictures? ya that one.) doesn’t have a specific size for the boxes. No, you don’t need to put a TV outline around it. Please don’t make them as big as 22 inches, or all the TV screen sizes you can think of.
Another tidbit of information: when someone asks you for a 100 day plan, you’ve gotta be realistic. There’s a lot you can do in 100 days. But being creative director is not one of them. Of course, you think it’s possible because our Group Head who has 8 years of experience doesn’t know how to use your stupid application, and you told him you should be Group Head/CD instead. Seriously, CD in 100 days. That’s the equivalent of asking a baby to teach you advanced physics while he/she is in the womb.
Which brings me at last, but not least, to your arrogance. Malays have this saying called bodoh sombong. Cantonese, it’s called lan lek. It basically means, don’t act like you’re the shit when you’re shit. I still don’t believe you had the nerve to tell me what to write when your own grammar leaves a lot to be desired for.
It’s not so much the fact that you wanted to teach me how to write (“use light up instead of that thing you said”), or that you think that you are better than someone who has obviously dealt with more in the industry than you. What really gets me is how you refuse to accept that even the best ECD in the world is still learning, and you refuse to because you think you’ve already made it.
This isn’t a playground, neh neh. And by the time you look past your own mountains of shame to see it, I hope for your sake it’s not too late.
Because there’s nothing sadder than watching a girl full of arrogance be brought back down to earth when you’re old, disillusioned and an alcoholic, teaching your grandchildren that you once lead a campaign that was an adaptation job.
I take that back. There is something sadder. It’s called your layouts.