So #Felix is no longer just a brand of cat food or a defunct cartoon character, but embodies a new marque of heroism and maverick adventure.  A stuntman extraordinaire, who last night earned much sort after one word equity.

Felix Baumgartner, a 43-year-old Austrian, former military parachutist,  skydived into the record books. Jumping from 23 miles above the earth, Felix reached a mind numbing maximum speed of 833.9 miles per hour (1,342 kilometres per hour)- amounting to Mach 1.24, faster than the speed of sound.

In the midst of all the furore surrounding our new superstar, I’d like to take a moment to celebrate the brand hero who made it all possible – Red Bull.

Over the past 10 years Red Bull has done its level best to own and invest its central ethos into speed, adventure and heroics . From the Flugtag to Felix,  Red Bull has taken the reins, moving beyond usual corporate sponsorship and creating extraordinary events tailor-made to communicate its values,  in an uncompromising pursuit of brand nirvana.

Back in a land time has forgotten I developed a strategic roll out for a net channel, Network of The World: a challenging brand with a passion to be the first footing web entrepreneurs of the new age of information culture. NOW were looking for a big  idea to kick start the brand across the globe. I found a team of adventurers with a big event idea, and they introduced me to Joe Kittinger.

Until yesterday Mr Kittinger was the parachute record holder. His 1960 record was broken by Felix, who Kittinger coached and mentored throughout the development of the jump. Kittinger was the only person allowed to communicate with Mr Baumgartner while he was inside the capsule which carried him into space.

Kittinger was a scarily impressive action man; a real life super hero whose bravery allowed the development of suits used by the Space crews who ultimately stepped foot on the moon. His primitive jumps 50 years ago did not benefit from the technology which aided Felix in the 21st century. His adventure had all the qualities of great stories that capture imaginations around the world. It was dangerous, it was visually captivating, it was a tale of one man triumphing against the odds, and he was ready to work with us to make it happen again.

We spent months working on a means to bring the event to fruition, but alas NOW did not have the resources to enable a edge of space jump back in 1999. Their loss was Red Bull’s gain, and so naturally I have been watching Red Bull’s methodology of delivering the hype for Felix’s jump keenly.

The brand has paid meticulous attention to detail, drilling down to the heroics and the romance of the story, creating a captivating narrative that will benefit them for years to come. They are one of very few brands with the guts and disruptive forethought to own this type of event, and a number of lessons might be learnt from them.

Many, many brands search for global ubiquity. Many are on the constant look out for big ideas, throwing massive budgets behind half pregnant creatives framed by global advertising support. Few ignite the imagination and match a brand ethos. All too often time is wasted on ill considered, flash-in-the-pan stunts that fail to ignite a relationship with the brand. Few invest in the brain power and few have the culture of patience to work through an idea. In a strict risk averse culture, it is almost impossible to nurture Maverick thought, or to embrace the odd personalities with the best ideas.

Yesterday Felix and Red Bull raised the bar. The challenge is clear: just as Baumgartner took Kittinger’s mantel, the global brand that will claim Red Bull’s throne will be the one that is able to contemplate the true definition of the little word with frightening, but powerful, career implications – risk.

AS the January sales wear on urging us to grab our discounts before they end, we should spare a thought for Harry Gordon Selfridge, born 149 years ago today.

It is only fitting that the week of Selfridge’s birthday has been marked by the launch of two television series celebrating the rise and rise of his adopted brain-child – consumer culture – in the form of ITV’s Mr Selfridge and BBC’s The Paradise (an adaptation of Emile Zola’s 1883 novel Au Bonheur des Dames).

I first came across Selfridge when researching The Fame Formula, exploring the rise of modern PR on the East Coast of industrialist America.

Although he brushed shoulders with the likes of Harry Reichenbach, Selfridge was the first person with the vision and the chutzpah to craft a culture around retail. Selfridge established shopping as an experience, an activity in itself rather than a means to an end.

Where the likes of Andrew Carnegie were able to identify problems in retail, Selfridge came up with innovative solutions, and inspired love and intrigue for his brand in a way in which no other had before.
Selfridge concocted swathes of spectacular creative stunts and used a plethora promotional mechanics to draw in the crowd. Although every generation believes itself to be the inventor of the wheel when it comes to guerrilla publicity, Selfridge did it first.

Selfridge understood the importance of engaging in modernity, embracing technological and social change, and like Baudelaire across the Channel a century before, realised the strength of the powerhouse that is the crowd. He nurtured his personal relationships with everyone from regency to rabble adorning the store front for coronations and jubilees and handing out turkeys to bus drivers at Christmas. He gained endorsement from the celebrities of the day – mixing with stars from George Formby to the Dolly Sisters – and wined and dined the press, developing a thick archive of clippings along the way.

Under Selfridge, artists were given free range and the pioneering technology of the day was given a platform – from the use of modest new printing technologies in the group’s advertising, to the display of Blériot’s Channel-crossing plane and Baird’s television. The public would flock to the store in their thousands to witness the theatrics first hand. The word-of-mouth stories that Selfridge generated spread worldwide, a near-miraculous feat in those days. More than anyone of his time, Selfridge understood the power of memes.

The spirit of the stuntsman remained with the store for some time, and I had the pleasure of working with the previous management developing three glorious campaigns for them which generated global stories. For the Body Craze season in 2003, we used the same hooks that held up Blériot’s plane to suspend S&M artist John Kamikaze from the ceiling. On another, we turned the store into a piece of artwork for Tunick’s Be Consumed, bringing in 500 volunteers to pose naked for a mass photograph.

This month, Selfridges have made another attempt at creating an aesthetic experience for the customer by launching the Silence Room, encouraging shoppers to take time out from the hustle and bustle of the experience.

Unfortunately, it seems that mass consumption has reached a point of satiation and that the kind of creative energy that gave rise to the modern retail experience has been lost. Sales and discounts are ubiquitous – not to mention the white noise of freebies that infiltrates the daily commute. Saturation of information has rendered retailers’ offerings meaningless, and just as Oxford Street was run-down in the days preceding Selfridge, so it is today.

Retail is in a state of stagnation, its sole driver anchored in ‘bargain’ prices. Although on one level global recession inspires frugality, bargain hunting in itself is not enough to sustain a consumer base.

Supermarkets have been blighted by pricing scandals and people are losing faith in the giants who don’t reach out to them. Retail is filled with bean counters who are so obsessed with numbers, and who have forgotten where the numbers come from in the first place.

The crowd is the foundation stone of retail business, and unless retailers are able to build a relationship with the public, their businesses will crumble.

Selfridge transformed retail exchange from piles of dust-covered goods hidden under countertops to an aesthetic experience to be enjoyed by everybody. Today, there are a few retailers who manage to embody this ideal, though the Apple shops spring immediately to mind as they are areas in which customers are able to interact and play with goods as well as receive advice and buy them.

There is a reason why Debenhams has been failing to attract customers despite its huge price cuts, and it is precisely due to their inability to communicate with the crowd. We can only hope that they are able to embody some of the soul of Selfridge in time for his 150th anniversary next year.

Last week, six members of Greenpeace ascended their way into the history books during fifteen hours of sheer sweat, muscle and no doubt emotion, as they scaled The Shard to draw attention to Shell’s plans to drill for oil in the Arctic. It was a bold, inspiring, beautiful action, that did the thing that all great stunts do: for a brief moment, took our breath away.

Stunts like this have always divided opinion, and in an age where everyone has the microphone of social media available to them, the multifarious views are more apparent than ever. For some the women climbing the Shard were heroes, for others they were attention seeking loons. But what has really caused debate is whether a stunt like this actually has a long term impact worthy of the huge amount of investment and preparation that goes into setting it up?

It’s true that the charity took ownership of the media agenda, attracting tens of thousands of new sign-ups for its campaign, and that #iceclimb got trending on Twitter. Shell has presumably experienced quite significant brand damage, and released a very half-hearted statement that received minimal media exposure and did little to offset concerns about their actions in the Arctic.

Will this all add up to significant change where it matters: in the board rooms of the City and the halls of Westminster? Harnessing the power of social media through an action like this is a great means of amplifying a cause. The stunt has laid a great foundation for change. But it will require sustained action to bring about a real shift in policy. The people who make a difference are those that move behind the scenes: the senior key opinion leaders who have the ears of the rich and powerful. Garnering their support is a fine art, and more often than not it rests on private, personal exchanges, as well as headline grabbing stunts.

Photo Credit: Andre Camara

So there we have it; the conclusion of the greatest product launch campaign Britain has ever seen. No, Apple didn’t bring out the iWatch while you weren’t looking. I’m talking about the latest release from modish mass market lifestyle brand Clarence House. In order to promote the latest instalment in their Cambridge range, the brand’s PR pixies arranged a years-long campaign, incorporating a wedding-based stunt, a boat party, several celebrity world tours and a much-hyped mystery unveiling. The whole thing is enough to make an old hand like me exhausted, but will it pay off?

A good bet for an early health-check is to look at the social media traction. Twitter have run a blog (link: http://blog.uk.twitter.com/2013/07/royalbaby.html?m=1) deconstructing the ‘royalbaby’ hashtag which will make encouraging reading for Clarence House’s analysts. Following the official launch announcement (timed daringly late – 8.35pm) twitter action reached 25,300 tweets per minute.

Clarence House kept a handle on the conversation throughout. Their announcement included a series of tweets revealing tantalising product details (including the all-important weight, usually considered to be a crucial detail in the sector) which provided food for discussion for consumers. They also arranged supporting tweets from brand-appropriate influencers, including the Daily Mail and the British Monarchy. The brand will also be pleased that they’ve ironed out creases in their social media machine. Their 2011 ‘Royal Wedding’ stunt – which garnered great trad media traction – sparked criticism from some commentators for its strikingly negative reception among 33% of British Tweeters (link: http://www.forbes.com/sites/jennagoudreau/2011/04/29/one-third-of-brits-on-twitter-dont-care-about-royal-wedding/).

Speaking of trad media, the launch marks the jewel in the crown of Clarence House’s much lauded press and broadcast strategy. Over the past few years a team of advisers including Jamie Lowther-Pinkerton, Paddy Harverson and most recently Sally Osman (a canny acquisition from Sony, another big selling entertainment producer) have run a PR campaign which stands as a benchmark for taking advantage of a weakened media.

For decades, the rambunctious British press, heartened by a progressive public spirit, painted the brand as unfashionable and outdated. It took particular joy in the infamous malfunction of the popular Princess Wales model (though it showed contrition after forcing that product from the market). Now, with newsrooms collapsing, broadcast getting puffier by the day and commentary fracturing across cyberspace, Clarence House has realised the media has a use for the brand values its products offer: pappy nationalism, quirky political incorrectness and soft-focus shots of brunette women in dresses. Only British Daily The Independent dared to cover the launch without a hefty forelock tug, and analysts predict 90% of independent readers are sandal-wearing teachers who hate fun, love and freedom.

However, the real test will come in the value for Clarence House’s shadowy parent company Brand Britain (BBinc). BBinc have great success with their own stunts, including an innovative experiential advert-cum-sports party last summer, and they’ll be watching to see if Clarence House, which is a pricy and strategically complex asset, can still deliver the goods. One study last year valued Clarence House at £44bn, largely due to its popularity in foreign markets, but others disagree. On BBC breakfast this morning republican campaigner Graham Swift claimed that Visit Britain predict a near-zero change in tourism revenues if BBinc were to scrap its venerable property.

What’s more, we’ll need to see how the product matures. When, for the first time, it appears before the public to demonstrate the functionality we citizens have paid for, how will it work? When it looks at the array of camera flashes and hungry eyes, at the waving celebrity bandwagoners and the grasping politicians, what will it do? Will it stand firm, or will it falter? Will it understand that while it feels like it’s flesh and blood, it’s really manufactured? Only time will tell.

Beyonce’s new iTunes record—the singer’s album broke a million sales in six days on Wednesday—should be a lesson not only to pop stars but to anyone with a message to get across. The singer released the album entirely without prior fanfare, tossing it onto iTunes with a casual insouciance.  It was a masterclass in cutting through the general PR melee and of course, a conscious purpose of control.

Beyonce’s people have said the release was all about talking directly to the fans without interference from the media. A fun idea, but not likely to be of much use to artists who’ve not had millions of dollars spent on their promotion over the years. The more important point to draw from it for PR pixies is how shouting loudly just doesn’t work any more. Nobody can hear!

Put simply, there is now a colossal amount of noise in the world. Everywhere you look, you are being told about somebody SPECIAL, UNIQUE, IMPORTANT and always, always GROUNDBREAKING. And you are being told VERY LOUDLY.  Actually, this just serves to make everything sound more or less the same.  This year, the tweet in which TIME magazine announced its person of the year was retweeted more than 15,000 times, compared to only 3,281 retweets for the equivalent tweet last year. Vine launched, and Instagram started a video service, introducing moving pictures into an already cacophonous online landscape. In traditional media, too, things are getting increasingly feverish, with the MailOnline soaring above 100m unique browsers for the first time in August.

Where once being big and brash and standing out from the comparatively grey crowd was exciting and impressive, now the opposite is the case. Beyonce cut through because her lack of fanfare was so surprising, that ironically, it created a much bigger splash once the media cottoned on. Others have followed the same route with great success. The photo-sending app Snapchat launched in 2011 and spread through word of mouth, targeting a hypercommunicative millennial market and expending all its energy on simply being useful to them, rather than making a big fuss. As a result, its brass-balled founders were able to turn down a $3bn offer from Facebook this November. The Web TV service Netflix upped its game in 2013 by producing original series (House of Cards, Arrested Development, Orange is the New Black) picked for their wit, intelligence and potential to build a community, rather than because they would produce the biggest headlines.

If you want to make it big with a launch in 2014, I suggest you start thinking now about exactly who you want to speak to. As the Now Economy becomes ever more fast paced, and complex, timing and careful positioning are more important than ever before.

I don’t usually do awards ceremonies. I’d generally rather be making a new campaign than remembering the last one. However, as the end of the year finds Borkowski towers in a reflective mood, I thought I’d put together a brief collection of 2013’s standout PR moments—the ones that made us gasp with astonishment, and the ones that made us groan in horror.

Most gloriously over the top viral stunt

I’ve actually already blogged about this one [link: https://www.markborkowski.co.uk/supernatural-pr-fear-that-fans-can-love/] but it’s stuck with me. In order to promote the remake of classic teen-angst ‘em up Carrie, the movie’s PR team set up a hidden camera stunt to end all hidden camera stunts. A new York Cafe was rigged with booby traps, and an actor was planted at a table. Following an altercation with another “customer” (actually a stuntman), the actor appears to wreak havoc with her psychic powers, terrifying several genuine customers. A video of the event went viral.

In some ways, there was nothing groundbreaking about this, well-executed as it was. Still, as I acknowledged at the time, the team deserve huge props for finding a clever way to engage with movie audiences outside of the traditional press junket snore-machine.

Most disastrous loss of control over the narrative

One organisation that did very well out of the media for most of 2013 were former cranks turned upstanding voices of Britain the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP). Their charismatic leader Nigel Farage, always ready with a pint in his hand and a soundbite on his lips, has taken control of right-wing sentiment in Britain. For at least the second half of the year, David Cameron was widely acknowledged to take his cues from Farage in the way he framed many of his policies, particularly on immigration.

But while UKIP conference 2013 should have been the party’s crowning achievement, the actions of one rogue agent—MEP Godfrey Bloom—meant the media narrative during and after the event was one of chaos and slapstick comedy. Bloom used the word ‘sluts’ to refer to female party members, and subsequently hit Channel 4 journalist Michael Crick on the head with a party brochure. Farage, to his credit, reacted quickly, withdrawing the whip from Bloom, but in his own words: “There is no media coverage of this conference…. it’s all about Godfrey hitting a journalist and using an unpleasant four-letter word.”

Most half-hearted celebrity attempt to go off the rails

Unfortunately for the digital entertainment media, 2013 was near-totally bereft of meltdowns, screw-ups and self-destructions. In the absence of such copy-fodder, the faceless droids that run TMZ had to improvise, and they came up with the perfect target: Justin Bieber. This year, Bieber’s wild child shenanigans include (allegedly) smoking a small amount of slightly illegal drugs [link: http://www.tmz.com/2013/10/07/justin-bieber-smoking-photo-twitter/], losing two small specialist pets [link: http://www.celebitchy.com/305814/some_freak_gave_justin_bieber_a_new_pet_monkey_hes_lost_it_already/] and offending some of the online Jewish population [http://www.heyreverb.com/blog/2013/06/28/justin-biebers-five-biggest-screw-ups-so-far-this-year/71906/3/]. We yawned. Charlie Sheen would be turning in his grave, if he weren’t still alive and richer than ever.

Significant  launch

Even as the year draws to a close, The Book of Mormon, the debut stage musical by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, remains hot property despite opening all the way back in March. On Friday 22nd March it broke the record for the biggest single day of West End ticket sales, taking £2,107,972 between 10am and midnight. The launch campaign was an appealing blend of the experimental and the old fashioned. Ads were simple and focused on highlighting media praise, whether traditional (the show’s enviable reviews were written on billboards across London’s underground systems) or social (other posters highlighted Twitter sentiment). At the same time (and we don’t know to this day whether collaboration between the two organisations was involved) the real life Mormon church provided the show with better publicity than any money could buy. Launching an advertising campaign to rescue its reputation from the show’s satirical attacks, the church not only piggybacked masterfully on the show’s hype but ensured people stayed flocking to the Prince of Wales theatre. A joint gong, then, for one of the world’s wackiest religious organisations and the creators of South Park. Not a sentence we ever thought we’d type.

PR move of 2013

Sally Osman, who took over as chief spinner to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in April, had a tough year ahead of her. After 2012 saw public love for the Royals surging to near-unprecedented levels, there was a chance that 2013, which held no glitzy jubilees or weddings, would be a muted year. Osman took that in her stride, with a subtle style that ensured coverage of the royal birth in the summer, while frenzied, didn’t look artificially stoked, and coverage of the christening was tasteful. Osman clearly knows that less is more when you’re dealing with such a high-value property, and she’s kept the pair at the very top of the public’s affections.

2013 Master of the Dark Arts 

Larry Rudolph, longtime master of the Hollywood dark arts, has (allegedly) done it again. It is widely speculated that onetime Disney Channel starlet Miley Cyrus’s decision to hire him as her manager was the catalyst for her transformation into pansexual headline hogger. The debates about media sexism, sexualisation of the young and the virtue or otherwise of pixie bobs are for other writers. All I know is that, thanks to Rudolph, the word ‘twerking’ is now in the Oxford English Dictionary, and that’s villainous enough.

As you may have seen on The Drum I shared my thoughts on Betfair’s stunt, or misfortune, or whatever it was, it was misguided. It may have attracted a few columns and conversations on Twitter but it was of the wrong kind. The old cliched ‘any publicity is better than none’ meme. Well not any more.

We now know the breakdown was a stunt. We have seen the subsequent launch of its new ad which makes Betfair’s “we are sorry for any inconvenience caused” at the time of the breakdown even more hollow. It was a mere adpology. The same words that we hear everyday on British Rail, TFL, from airlines, banks and just about every other public service and government – the standard format for corporate apologies. Sorry is a subjective word, used with different nuance every day and so far from expressing genuine contrition, governments, businesses, public figures and probably you and I use apologies to divert attention, manage expectations, resuscitate reputations, and when possible, even implicate the victim.

Such is the allure of fame and fortune, brands and celebrities develop defence systems that obscure the consequences of their actions. No matter how bad the headlines get, the one thing worse than being talked about, is not being talked about. Atonement is simply a springboard for shameless self-promotion these days. Reputations used to be hard earned.

Anyway, we have veered from the point. These days brands should aim for maximum traction for the right reasons, and in this instance the devil is in the detail, the planning, the rigorous preparation for every possible angle and circumstance, and then the ability to articulate and deal with the real emotion people are feeling rather than that same old dry political approach. When we do this we engage at a human level, touch and move people and inspire them to take action. Brands are faced with the haters these days and navigating them is the key. They are a challenge but also an advantage when dealt with in a controlled and thoughtful manner.

Still why bother to generate a level of self-inflicted opprobrium through irresponsible planning and hubris, when with careful thinking it is just as easy to avoid?

Betfair’s octopus has lost any charm it may have gained. He was the vehicle for a round table of admen to masturbate over idea porn and whilst they are and continue to do so, PR has a chance to talk common sense again – to shine a beacon on the truth and the stories, that planned with reality, creativity and perspective engage and drive momentum. Betfair has simply added to the atmosphere of anti-trust and worse, in an industry that should be taking even more care around human emotion and nuance.

The relationship between gamblers and betting sites can touch people profoundly. They involve one of the most intimate, emotional and important things in people’s lives – money. The octopus will simply be remembered for looking slightly nuts on top of a track.

Betfair and others beware. The PR cliche is over and more care and respect is required. BetFair. The clue is surely in the name?

Textiles and fashion occupy a central position in the realm of material culture. Apart from fulfilling the basic human need for clothing and protection, textiles play important political, economic, and religious functions. Through variations of construction and patterning, cloth also has a great capacity for communication and serves as a significant site of personal and cultural identity. How we dress in particular is, by its very nature, one of the most visible of the arts.

Given the nature and role of textiles, it should therefore come as no surprise to discover that they can serve as powerful visual metaphors for all sorts sentiment and propaganda.

There’s a point. This week Karl Lagerfeld sent a parade of waifs down the runway brandishing placards for women’s rights (of a Barbie doll kind of flavour) Lagerfeld certainly knows how to pull off a stunt, but is this really the best fashion can do? Lagerfeld’s comment “I don’t ask myself political questions at that level” proved this was nothing more than his version of a model army.

Stunts are the fastest means to create indelible brand infamy. Some of them are put under the microscope and picked apart by media cynics, Chanel included, but the greatest stunts are those which nobody spots as stunts. Without careful thought the wrong stunt can diminish the impact of the message, and if it’s not backed up it’s not worth the newspaper inches it generates.

If you look back in history, fashion actually does have the power to make such changes: Coco Chanel herself emancipated women from the restrictive corsetry giving them freedom to move and work. This was nothing but a tongue in cheek swipe at the Parisian predilection for street protest, but one that millions are impressionable young women are willing to buy into…

Jeremy Corbyn has always insisted that Labour policy be decided by consultation and debate. With the leaking of a draft of the party’s manifesto, Labour has launched its most ambitious act of policy crowdsourcing.

As a pundit pointed out, leaking the manifesto is probably the surest way of getting the media to seriously read it. Media indifference isn’t just a problem for Corbyn’s Labour. In twenty-first century elections – fuelled by big data, algorithmically-matched messaging and fake news – the manifesto is an increasingly irrelevant form. In times that are less politically tribal and where information is more accessible and independently verifiable, the manifesto emerges as a relic of elections past. Sites like Vote for Policies provide more personalised spaces for the floating voter. Functioning as a kind e-harmony for politics, the site match-makes users to the policy areas of the seven main parties.

To read the rest go to: http://www.thedrum.com/opinion/2017/05/11/corbyns-labour-manifesto-when-leak-not-leak