Dream Update: Creative Group, Art Director

Last night I drempt I was an Art Director for a prestigious creative group that was just breaking into the high-profile client market.

The majority of the night was spent reviewing four different ad campaigns for a company that would remove snow along public transportation railways. Of the four ideas presented, three of them were superficial and self-centered. Only the last one had any real insight to offer; targeted exactly to meet the clients' needs. When I woke up, I remembered the last three of the pitches. But now. . .all I can remember is that there was a lot of cold, cold snow. And I hated one of the ideas.


The last part of the dream was the most interesting for me. Vying for the business of a tea company called Earl Grey, I created a campaign in an attempt to rebrand their image. They wanted to shift from being thought of as "an old lady's tea" to a "high-end, sophisticated business person's tea."

My team entered the meeting with the client ill-prepared. We pitched an idea that was pretty lame. The client was not impressed. In fact, we tanked it. Our fee, pending our successful pitch was lying on the table before us---a suitcase brimming with small marked bills; tens and twenties mostly, but there were a few stacks of hundreds as well. I walked over to the table with the money on it and flipped through the stacks of cash that would have been mine.


HA! Then the epiphany hit me; it was brilliant! So I pitched it on the spot:

"Every sophisticated tea-drinker sees themselves carrying Benjamin Franklins in their wallet. What if we made a flipbook of 100 dollar bills with Benjamin Franklin as the spokesperson. 'When I'm feeling bogged down with work [helping to draft the Declaration of Independence] or when this gloomy New England whether drags me down, dip into my old stash of Earl Grey to rejuvenate [The old 100 dollar bills at this point are changed for new bills as Ben Franklin sips on some tea]." The tag line is "it makes sense."


Smiles crept across the faces of the clients. "That will work," they said. I flipped the stack of hundreds back into the suitcase, closed it and woke up.

Another imaginary customer satisfied. All in a hard-nights-sleep.