Doing Dave Trott the hard way
December 15th, 2008 | by Dion Hughes
One of the best advertising blogs anywhere is written by long time London ad hero Dave Trott. It’s full of timeless advice, colorful stories, relevant lessons and ruthless logic. Anyone looking to get better, this is an easy, painless way to learn from a master. And make sure you read the open debate Dave had on Scamp. But my post here is not about browsing Dave, it’s about Dave and me and learning the hard way… When I landed in London at the tender age of 24, Dave Trott was already a bona fide legend. His agency was booming, the awards annuals were full of Gold Greenlees Trott work, and his sound bites made for a list of communications commandments.
Dave’s agency was built in part on the sweat and talent of a very young creative department. Every few months or so, Dave would take on a few student teams, then have them compete for a more permanent position. Who cared if it was like watching ants fight? If you were one of the combatants, at least you had a chance at working in one of the best agencies in London. Needless to say, I dreamt of being one of Dave’s ants.
It was a long, arduous process. I started out by attending D&AD workshops at his agency, in which members of his team would bustle in, lacerate our ideas, then go back to work.
Next, I made weekly visits to the very generous but no less hard-nosed GGT team of Neil Sullivan and Gordon Graham. With their patient guidance, I transformed my book from a series of lame one-offs into a terse collection of eye-popping visuals and straight-to-the-gut headlines.
After six months of this, I had gathered a dozen or so presentable campaigns, so I gathered six of the best into a mini-book, a copy of which I sent to Dave.
No answer. And no getting past the PA, either.
So I put six more campaigns into a second mini-book. This time, Dave’s PA called. He was looking to bring on a few teams, and my mailings had caught his eye. Would I be available for an interview 7pm next Friday night. “Y-y-y-y-yes.”
That Friday, I walked past Neil and Gordon’s office on my way to see Mister Trott. They gave me an encouraging thumbs up - I was representing their hard work as well as mine.
Dave and I spent a bit of time chatting about Australia, John Webster, and some business his agency had just won, then we got down to looking at my work. By now, after sending my best work in those two mailings, the remainder of my portfolio was on the slim side, no matter how many all-nighters I’d pulled the previous fortnight to shore it up.
Dave saw through it straight away.
“This isn’t as good as what you sent me.”
“Ummm… no.” And I gave my excuses.
“And the stuff you sent me… I like it, but I have teams here who can do the same. I don’t need a whole team of center forwards.” Dave being one for the football metaphor. And also for exposing the fatal flaw within the best laid plan.
“You have to run your own race” he continued.
And then, the irresistible wrong. The most awful words spilled from my mouth, each one dragging out the next like links in a chain. I turned white even before my sentence was finished.
“How… do… I… do… that?” I said.
Dave closed my book and looked directly at me.
“The fact that you asked that question makes me wonder what type of creative person you are.”
“I…”
“But thank you for coming in. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
And he got up and walked out of his office, leaving me alone to survey the stack of junior portfolios next to his desk, the mountainous pile of scripts on his window sill, and the laughing pub-goers out on Wardour Street.
After slinking out, making sure to avoid Neil and Gordon, I went home to lay in bed. For the entire weekend.
By Saturday morning, I’d devised a plan to re-pot myself into a different career. By Saturday night I had uncurled from my fetal position. Sunday morning I managed to choke down a slice of dry toast. And by Sunday afternoon, I’d thought my way back into giving advertising another try, only this time, in my own way.
Two months later, I finagled a job at a small but meteoric creative agency called Still Price Court Twivy D’Souza.
And a week after that, Dave Trott’s secretary called to ask me if I could come in for another interview.
My answer was no thanks. I already had the job I knew was right for me, and that ultimately set me on my path. My own path. But I’ll always be thankful for Dave’s brutal honesty. Run your own race. Then you’ll always come in first.
December 15th, 2008at 8:47 pm(#)
Very glad you decided to keep going in advertising. Even more happy that you shared this story. Great post.
December 15th, 2008at 10:13 pm(#)
Hi Dion,
Blimey, that makes me sound a bit of a twat.
Maybe I was.
It wasn’t meant to come across as rude.
I always figure the best I can do is be honest.
Not rude, but honest.
Then it’s up to the person, they can either listen or not.
If I’m not honest, they never have the choice.
In this case you took it and made something out of it.
That was great.
But you did it, not me.
You put in the energy to turn it around.
I’ve probably had that communication with thousands of kids.
Probably less than 10% did anything other than moan about it.
So for them, and me, it was a waste of time.
But 10%, like yourself, took it onboard and made something out of it.
So that wasn’t a waste of time.
And that’s really good to hear about.
Thanks a lot for taking the time to let me know.
And now you have to pass it on.
And train other people like Neil and Graham did.
Well done Dion.
December 16th, 2008at 12:07 am(#)
Thanks Paul. Horticulture doesn’t know what it missed by me making it through to Sunday night.
Dave, thanks for the visit and the comment and your generous spirit. No, you were not a twat, and my apologies for making you sound like one. I was the one with the idiotic question, and I fully deserved the kicking.
To be sure, despite the vivid lesson I learned that night, I haven’t always managed to be an independent thinker. So I know: just as there’s nothing better than succeeding by doing your own thing, nothing is worse than failing by doing someone else’s.
btw do you have any idea where neil or gordon are today?
December 16th, 2008at 8:37 pm(#)
dion,
great post. i too fancied myself as a trottite back in the late 80s in London. but a green card took to me to NYC.
very true about finding yourself creatively. took me ages.
December 16th, 2008at 11:52 pm(#)
thanks Vinnie. oddly enough, i think moving to the states is that really solidified it for me. crashing what i thought i believed from my time in london, with the very different set of references in los angeles, forced me to find That Happy Place. or, as it turns out, that forever restless place.
December 17th, 2008at 5:39 pm(#)
yeah me too. i’m an ex-colonial also. originally from ireland. and moving here forced me to hit reset on everything culturally. again.
i’d just gotten used to marmite and then i suddenly had to cope with the travesty that is Cheez Whiz. traumatic!
December 18th, 2008at 4:17 am(#)
why is it that sometimes you run across the message you really NEED to hear when you least expect? “run your own race” is spot-on, but I’m struck by the honesty in the stammering self-doubt
“how..do…I..do….that?” -
it’s the interior question that leaked out at the most inopportune moment. or perhaps - the most opportune??? It obviously made an impact on you, so much so as to lead you to a blog posting. Dave read, remembered and responded. It touched a nerve amongst the bloggers that linked me here. AND it made enough impression on me to post - on my first visit to your blog.
the truth is owning up to one’s fears, humanely seeing them through, and overcoming them in confidence and growth. thanks for sharing.
December 30th, 2008at 8:10 pm(#)
Honesty is forever disarming, and always, actually, the easy path. i’m terrible at lying, so i default to just saying it. we all put up a lot of thought into what we are to ourselves and the outside world… it’s differentiating (at least!) to let go of that. not that i’m not self-conscious, but i feel like i lose nothing by sharing stories of my own idiot behavior, and, as demonstrated by the comments above, there’s obviously plenty to gain. not to mention a few laughs. thanks for visiting and commenting, Brian.
October 13th, 2009at 11:39 am(#)
hey dion, i’m glad trottie challenged you and i’m glad your decision was to stick with still price court. your style of forthright, smart communications, played an important role in making us the success we later became.
logan (former joint ecd of still price court)
October 13th, 2009at 12:21 pm(#)
thanks logan. and if i’ve never said it before… thanks for making the leap of faith all those years ago. i’m forever in debt to that first big break.
that was one hell of an advertising master class you and mike and sev and paul and chris and russell led. an amazing experience.