Thomas Evans – 9th May 2011

I can remember the moment when I decided that I wanted to become an advertising creative. It was slightly shitty timing to have this realisation, because it was during the first week of a 3-year account management graduate training scheme, at a ginormous advertising agency. We were being shown around the place, and we were led down a spiral staircase to take a look at the creative department. At the bottom of the staircase, our guide told us in very hushed tones “This is the creative department. Everyone’s very busy at the moment so be very quiet and try no to disturb them.” Which kind of made it feel like we were about to enter the nocturnal enclosure in London Zoo. After being led around, gawping at people as they worked in glass partitions he finished with this gem; “If you can, try and spend some time with a creative. It really is fascinating how their minds work,” leaving me with the impression that they were all Vulcan. Or some kind of further evolved homo sapiens, right out of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

I was a crap account manager. Half of the time I could barely understand what people were going on about, so my mind would wander until some fucker would involve me in the meeting again, leaving me completely bamboozled. I couldn’t adhere to the account manager look of jeans / shirt / shoes so was incongruous in my trainers and T-shirt (a workplace’s dress code should either be formal or casual– not some unwritten middle-ground everyone learns by osmosis). I hold the dubious honour of being sacked from an account without ever having worked on it (perhaps I’ll share that tale in a future blog post) and it got to the point (approximately 15 months in) where I could no longer feign interest or enthusiasm. I left of my own accord, with a steely determination to make it as a copywriter.

I soon learned that it’s pretty difficult to become a copywriter – having virtually no experience and being the relative old fart at 30 years of age, it soon seemed as big a challenge as attempting to become an astronaut, or a Formula 1 driver. It’s nigh on impossible to get your foot in the door, even if you have giant feet, shaped like battering rams. My sole creative achievement before I got a place at the SCA was writing a leaflet about hypnotherapy for a woman whose husband I worked with. I got paid 100 quid for my efforts, and I can assure you that it’s the best leaflet about hypnotherapy anyone will ever read.

I’ll spare you the details as to why I want to be an advertising creative – you’re reading this so it’s likely you have an interest in, or already are in advertising. On second thoughts, I will tell you. It’s a job where creativity, versatility, curiosity, and a sense of fun are qualities that are mandatory, not things you indulge in surreptitiously while your boss isn’t looking. It’s an industry in which the average worker is a physically attractive specimen. It certainly beats the civil service, or Leeds Market (both of which I’ve worked at) and sometimes you get free fruit. Some agencies even have a table football table – in the office! (I know – crazy).

This summer I shall embark on my first placement as a creative. I’m very excited, anxious, and nervous. This in no way means I have got to where I want to be; it’s at the juncture where I’ll need to be at my best – displaying shrewd, insightful thinking, producing an abundance of good ideas on a daily basis and resilient enough to produce even more after being told all my ideas were shit. And then if I’m fortunate enough to get a job after my placements, well, that’s when I’ll have to be even better.

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