Tag: advertising

7 Reasons to buy an Austin Seven

What’s this? You’re doubtless thinking. A 7 Reasons post on a Sunday? That’s never happened before. And you’d be right (probably). But today, history has provided us with one, in the form of an Austin Seven advert from 1933. And it’s brilliant; I’m so convinced by the arguments contained within it that I want one. So here, for your entertainment, amusement and personal betterment, is the amazing advert and also a bit of an analysis.

1. “It provides the cheapest form of road travel-a penny a mile for four, all in.” This is astonishing. If you (or I) were to purchase one of these and operate it as a taxi the profits would be so vast that we’d soon be richer than Croesus. And conveniently, less dead. Less than a penny a mile!

2. “It is extremely easy to drive, easy to park.” That’s brilliant. That will save me spending ten minutes reversing and going forward in a car before saying “fuck it” and abandoning it in the middle of the road. It will also make it easy to train others to drive it (of which more later).

3. “It needs no mechanical knowledge; it is trouble-free.” It’s an everlasting car that never needs to be tinkered with. Fantastic.

4. “It is good for five, six or even more years of hard use.” Oh, so it isn’t then. Still, that’s quite a lot of use. Especially hard use. After all, it’s hard for cars to float on the sea, so for it to last five, six or even more years when being used to drive to and from France would be a good performance.

5. “It is as fully equipped and finely finished as cars three times its size.” Superb. It’s every bit as good as the Austin Twenty-One then.

6. “It is free from superfluous weight, being the lightest saloon car made-hence its unburdened power and light running costs.” Unburdened power: I like the sound of that and, even if there are costs involved in running the lights, I don’t care. I’m sold on it. I want one.

7. “It is the only baby car proved by the public for over twelve years. No other car can give you equal results.” Wait! Baby car? That’s amazing. I have a baby. I won’t even have to drive it myself! I’m going train him to drive (it’s easy to drive, remember) and put him to work as a taxi driver. Then I can sit back and wait for all of the money to come flooding in. This is going to be amazing.

*7 Reasons will return tomorrow, probably in diamond-encrusted form, with gold taps.

July 31, 2011
7 Reasons According To Them

Everywhere you go, celebrities are endorsing something or other. Now it’s our turn.*

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"7 Reasons wanted to stop me. They failed. Now I'm going to crush them in my giant hand."

"We will be judged by 7 Reasons. When they want to inflict great pain on the world they will stop writing."

"I've bought a komodo dragon, a cross-eyed opossum, a Kim Jong Il and I've urinated in a policeman's helmet. Thank you 7 Reasons."

"I adore 7 Reasons; it's an absolute joy to read every day. It's an essential lifestyle guide that has taught me so much about cats and biscuits. Both of the team seem lovely, but I especially like the tall, grumpy one with the spell-check facility. And thanks to the other one, I'm planning a trip to Whitstable."

"I'm a devotee of 7 Reasons and can categorically state that it is NOT a cult. Not even close."

"The 7 Reasons Marc Fearns picture book gets me hyped."

"I read 7 Reasons and now I'd give my right arm to beat the French. At anything."

*Only words and pictures have been altered and fabricated in the making of this post. Everything else is real.

June 5, 2011
7 Reasons That The UK Should Ban Carlsberg

1. Retaliation. Relations between the UK and Denmark have long been difficult.   From the eighth to the eleventh centuries they invaded us; in the nineteenth century we confiscated their navy, and in the twenty-first century they sent Nicklas Bendtner to lumber around our football fields and sulk like a moon-faced twelve year old girl. A giant moon-faced twelve year old girl. Now, however, they’ve gone too far. They’ve banned that quintessentially British spreadable yeast extract, Marmite from their country. The time to act is now and we need to ban something in return. We can’t ban bacon, because half of the 7 Reasons team will cry and we can’t ban Lego for exactly the same reason. The only thing left is Carlsberg.

2. Strength. The standard Carlsberg is an okay and quite drinkable lager (for a mass-manufactured one). Sadly, however, we don’t get that in the UK. We get an insipid watery thing brewed specially for us. It’s horrible and pointless. If you wanted to get drunk, you’d have to consume so much of it that your bladder would swell to the size of a small hatchback before you felt the teeniest bit light-headed. And that’s the moment that your small hatchback would probably be involved in an accident. With a boat.

3. Taste. The flavour of the UK Carlsberg lager is…well…in there somewhere. You can definitely tell that you’re drinking something that was once in the same country as some malt and some hops. Briefly. But going on an epic search to find the flavour in the beverage that you’re drinking is frustrating and pointless. And we already have a drink like it in the UK, it’s called water. It’s cheaper (unless you’re a family with a meter) and you don’t have to go out and buy it, it’s already there in your own home; in the taps. And it might already have been drunk by a celebrity like Elton John or Ryan Giggs, so it carries a greater celebrity cachet.

4. It Comes In A Green Tin. And I don’t like green tins. I just don’t. Never have, never will. I’m perfectly within my rights to dislike green tins and it’s not at all irrational. After all, we live in a country where it’s considered perfectly normal behaviour to dislike otherwise perfectly good people because of what vehicle they choose to commute in/on, what football team they support and the brand of shoe they choose to wear. So my hatred of green tins is far more rational than the cultural norm. Let’s get rid of the little green tins.

5. Because It’s Bad For You. Marmite was banned from Denmark because it contains additives: It’s unnaturally potent. But are the parks and playgrounds and municipal seating areas of Copenhagen littered with – often apparently lifeless – ruddy-faced and dishevelled men clutching half full* jars of Marmite in their limp, grimy hands? No. Those men are over in the UK, clutching cans of Carlsberg Special Brew**.    Because that too is unnaturally potent and unlike Marmite, which is good for you, it seems to be quite detrimental to the health.

6. Because They Keep The Good Stuff To Themselves. For Carlsberg make an amazing beer: a strong, rich, malty lager-beer with brilliant sharp hoppy notes. It’s called Elephant – named after one of the gates to their Copenhagen brewery – and can I get hold of it in the UK? Can I buggery. It would be easier to get hold of an actual elephant, and possibly more fun too. I could keep it in the garden and train it to stand on my next-door-neighbour’s car. If we banned Carlsberg, my frustrating and usually fruitless search for Elephant would come to an end.

7. Because Of The Adverts. Carlsberg’s advertising is brilliant. It’s high-budget, has consistently great production values and is usually very, very memorable.   But if we have to suffer every last epically dull and unoriginal bore mindlessly parroting, “Carlsberg don’t do *****(those asterisks are to suggest blankness, we’re not subject to a superinjunction)…but if they did….”, every time they see something they’re enthused by, because they believe it passes for original wit, that’s too high a price to pay for it. Let’s ban Carlsberg: We’d get revenge, lose crap beer, drink more water, rid ourselves of green tins, have healthier tramps and I’d be able to ride an elephant to the pub, where I wouldn’t be tempted to punch a dullard. You know it makes sense. Sort of.

*Or half empty, you decide.

**As manufactured by Chaka Khan.

May 25, 2011
It’s That SPAM Again

It’s Sunday today, so we’ve taken our traditional day away from the reasoning-mine and, as they are often wont to do, our thoughts have turned to food. Now, some time back we brought you what we considered to be the ultimate SPAM recipe – Planked SPAM – but now we’ve unearthed something that has easily trumped Planked SPAM and knocked it into a cocked hat. Whatever that means. Brace yourself! It’s…

Yes, it’s SPAM ‘n’ Beans which is, apparently, exactly right for Saturday night (which is rather a shame as I took my wife for cocktails and to a really good concert in Northern Europe’s largest Gothic Cathedral last night (if only I’d seen this first)). It seems delightfully simple to cook, consisting as it does of two ingredients; SPAM and baked beans. Simply place slices of SPAM in baked beans and cook them on the hob, then serve in some sort of dirty brown pot with congealed sauce oozing over the side. Who wouldn’t be overjoyed to be served this? It seems that the simplest recipes are often the most delicious.*

*Sadly I’m the member of the 7 Reasons team that doesn’t eat meat and – as SPAM is a distant relative of meat – I can’t try it myself. Any readers care to give it a go?**

**7 Reasons will be back tomorrow, without any tummy trouble whatsoever.

May 8, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: A Recipe

It’s Russian Roulette Sunday again (and ordinary Sunday too) and we’ve realised something: We’ve never given our readers a recipe before. We’ve requested them when under pressure; we’ve offered general lifestyle advice on how to do food correctly; and on how food should be consumed, but we’ve never been specific about how to prepare it. Until now.

This isn’t our own recipe, it’s one that we stumbled across on the internet while doing something else. But it’s safe to say that we were amazed by it. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. It’s a perfectly genuine recipe that features in an advert for the main ingredient and we haven’t in any way made it up.

In the past, we may have created and altered posters and passed them off as genuine, but we did that because we didn’t think that anyone would believe us, and we certainly didn’t imagine that thousands of people around the world would download those posters, presumably to use in essays and school projects. In fact, we feel fairly confident that, as World War II recedes further into history, and internet content becomes ever-more readily-accepted, those posters will come to be seen as genuine, and we – in our usual hapless manner – will have inadvertently caused a revision of history. We’re actually dreading the day that one of our posters turns up in a newspaper, or a book. Anyway, we’ve learned our lesson, and this poster is categorically not one of our creations.

You’re probably feeling a little peckish by now so, Ladies and Gentlemen, discerning readers of 7 Reasons (.org), we present to you, without any further ado…Planked SPAM.

Now, to some people, a meal consisting of SPAM on a plank might seem a little unconventional or unappetising, but rest assured: When you unveil this culinary master-stroke with a flourish, it will be “…greeted with cheers” by your jubilant dinner-guests. The advert says so, so it must be true. We’re not sure what wood the plank should be made from, though pine would probably be nice and fragrant, and less tough than oak. But you can experiment with your own planks, we wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Let us know how you get on.

September 26, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Make Do And Mend.

Hello. It’s Sunday again. And Sundays come as Sundays do – after five days of hoping that the other 7 Reasons writer has come up with something for Sunday. They never have. Which is why Marc came to me yesterday, breathless and devoid of inspiration, and said, ‘We don’t have anything for Sunday do we?’

‘No,’ I replied, supping on a cup of tea and stroking my mirror.

‘Damn,’ was his silent reply.

We sat in silence for a minute or twenty. Neither one of us prepared to say, ‘Let’s have a Sunday off’. Then, just as I was about to snap my gingerbread man at the neck, Marc leapt out of his chair and kicked the cat. ‘Let’s do some more advertising!’ he declared.

‘Marc,’ I began, my blood beginning to simmer at my colleagues scant disregard for our lack of money, ‘we don’t have any finances. You gave all our money away to Pearl & Dean and my masks have proved about as popular as Esther Rantzen in a…well about as popular as Esther Rantzen’.

‘You make a good point Jon,’ Marc said, taking off his pith helmet and vaulting over the desk, ‘but maybe we can just make do and mend.’

I looked puzzled, Marc was using phrases from World War II again. ‘How do you mean, Marc?’

‘I mean, we just use a load of old adverts and pimp them to suit 7 Reasons. Then we can ask people to put them up in their windows and on the back of their cows.’

‘Genius!’ I shouted, sending tea all over my groinal department. And with that Marc left, leaving a waft of whisky and a cat stuck in my plant pot.

Thirteen hours later we were finished. And so was the cat.

So yes. Please choose your preferred poster and stick it up in your place of work, caravan, shed or personal telephone box. Then take a photo and send it to us. It’s not that we are an unbelieving duo, we just like to know our hard work has been worth it.

June 6, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Ambient Advertising

Hello, it’s me. (Or Mr Lee to you). Happy Sunday to you. Now, in the last few weeks you will have noticed that Marc has blown all the 7 Reasons marketing budget on a couple of films. And as good as they were, I have been left with the challenge of promoting 7 Reasons on a budget of zero. You may think that sounds like tough work? Well it would be for mere mortals, but we are talking about me here. Which is why I have come up with the genius idea of 7 Reasons Masks. There are two versions – one of Marc and one of me – so it shouldn’t take too long for you to complete the set. All we want you to do is walk around with one of these masks on your face. My plan is for thousands of people to do it so eventually it becomes a sort of, ‘Who Are They?’ mystery. People will want to find out. I would say you would want to find out, but…erm… you already know. Anyway, newspapers will track us down and talk about us. For free. Genius. So please, go out and look like me. Or Marc. And, just in case you are wondering what to wear them with, here are some ideas. You can of course get a better look at my breasts if you click the image.

See, they really do go with anything. To get a mask all you have to do is email [email protected] with either Jon Mask or Marc Mask in the subject line. We will then send you a pdf version of the mask which you can download and print onto the back of a cereal packet. Before you know it you’ll be looking like one of us. Oh, and helping create history for the number of good looking people out and about at the same time. Right, that’s me finished for the day. Thanks for your assistance and, of course, do post your photos to the rapidly growing facebook group. Or don’t. Whichever you feel more comfortable with really. Peace out dudes.

May 30, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Advertising Take II

Hi! Marc here again. Last week, as you may recall, we blew our entire advertising budget on a film by Pearl & Dean. To be honest, we were a bit disappointed by it. We were so disappointed, in fact, that we thought we could probably do better ourselves. We reasoned that with my capacity for historical perspective and Jon’s talent for understatement and his innate modesty, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put together a simple and cheap – yet memorable – advert for our website. Here it is:

7 Reasons Advert II

So, in conclusion, please send donations to:

The 7 Reasons Advertising Fund

7 Reasons Towers

London

W12 7RJ

May 9, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Promoting Brown

The 1960s: clothes, interiors, fabrics, art – just about everything – were a riot of colour. This wasn’t much help to the (predominantly British) manufacturers of brown dyes and paints though, which was problematic, as during that decade their production continued apace. The result was, that by the 1970s, Britain had a huge surplus of brown colourants and needed to find a market for them to help with the balance of payments. This led to the formation – in 1971 – of the Brown Marketing Board, a government funded organisation devoted to the task of promoting the use of the colour brown by manufacturers and consumers alike.

While researching 1970s advertising, we came across many fine pieces of work by the Brown Marketing Board and today, we thought we’d share a few of them with you.

1. Swatch. A very simple poster, placed on the London Underground, on bus shelters and other street-level sites where people congregated. It was purely placed there as a brown colour swatch, the idea being that anyone standing near it would appear uncoordinated if they weren’t dressed in brown. Sales of brown coats to London commuters soared, thus proving that the simplest ideas are often the best.

2. Germans Eat White Chocolate. By the 1970s, Britons had still not gotten over the war, as this poster designed to promote the consumption of brown chocolate demonstrates.

3. If Only The Carpets And Curtains Matched. A poster used to encourage the use of brown in all areas of interior design. Looking back at pictures from the 70s, it seems that this campaign must have been a success.

4. Brown Bears Don’t Kill Seals. We’re fairly certain that they weren’t encouraging people to divest themselves of their pet polar bears in favour of brown bears. We think that this was probably just an attempt to promote brown as having generally “good” qualities. Sales of Fox’s Glacier Mints plummeted as a result of this controversial image though, and it was soon withdrawn.

5. Arrive In Style. What can we say? It’s a brown Austin Allegro. Perhaps this image contains a powerful subliminal message, because British Leyland sold loads of them. No one knows how. Maybe it was this advert.

6. Also Available In Brown. A very clever poster designed to increase the consumption of domestic produce in two ways. Firstly, using brown sauce instead of ketchup would help the sales of brown food dye. Secondly, it reminds us that brown sauce is a British tradition – after all, the H.P. in H.P. Sauce stands for Houses of Parliament – so the increased use of brown sauce would directly benefit British manufacturing interests.

7. Score In Style. Well, you wouldn’t want to win ugly, would you?

April 11, 2010
7 Reasons TV Adverts Annoy Us

1. Interruptions. Let’s start with the obvious. Ads interrupt programmes. And just when you are getting into them as well. Now you have to wait five minutes to see if the bloke is dead or not. Then you find out he isn’t and curse the show for being unrealistic. He shot him in the head for goodness sake.

2. Voiceovers. That famous bloke is doing the voiceover for a financial advert. You just can’t place the voice. You spend the whole evening trying to work out who it is. You can’t sleep. You are tired the next day. The presentation goes badly. You get fired.

3. False Advertising. Some of the claims that adverts make are quite frankly bollocks. Take Gaviscon for example. ‘Oh no! I have heartburn. I won’t be able to save the stranded hiker using my rescue helicopter. I know! I’ll have some Gaviscon. That’s much better. Now I can save lives.’

4. Michael Winner. If Michael Winner is not annoying enough, it’s his bloody stupid catchphrase, “Don’t worry dear, it’s a commercial”. Twat.

5. Dubbing. It’s an advert for some sort of grooming product. Probably a razor. Or Just For Men. The gaudy font clearly shows it’s an American advert, so why have they employed some Brits to dub over the top? And why does it never sync properly? It’s just very, very poor workmanship.

6. They’re loud. Because everyone knows we go to the kitchen during the break, the ads are 50db louder than the show you are watching. Naturally, you turn the volume down as the adverts start. When you get back in the room you forget to turn it up again though. As a result you miss the really important conversation that explains how Inspector Frost knew the murderer was the one with the wooden leg and the false eye lashes.

7. They can’t keep it real. Not all adverts are bad. The spectacularNicole and Papa ads for Renault Clio had the British public on tenterhooks. I don’t know how many Renault Clio’s were actually sold, but that is hardly the point. Nicole was fit. As this – one of the first ads in the series – proves.

As the series went on we fell in love. With Nicole, Papa and the Clios. So much so that 23 million of us tuned in for this – the final outing. But, of course, the advertising agency just had to ruin it for us didn’t they?

Reeves and Mortimer? What the hell were they thinking? A nation mourned and Nicole ended up working for Rover. She was made redundant in 2004 and now sells ice-cream from the back of a burger van.*

*This is not true.

I feel much better now. Amazing to think I used to be in advertising really

November 10, 2009