The World Wildlife Foundation (WWF) is sharing tips and tools for minimizing your negative impact on the environment. See them at Reduce.WWF.be. (Helps if you're Belgian.)
To add cautionary appeal to the deal, WWF is promoting the site with guerrilla appearances of its fishman. Think of him as the mutant status quo for a less hospitable toxic Earth. The effort was put together by Germaine of Antwerp.
What's with non-profits and fishpeople? Why don't we ever get threatened with the conception of mutant minotaurs or X-Men? Is it not possible that our toxic future may yield supercharged heroes and creatures of fairy-tale lore in addition to radioactive six-eyed frogs and deranged (but unfairly oppressed) gill-faced rednecks?
This is agency Northlich's creative department. They are selling overpriced shirts for charity.
You might think they look unhappy because that's just the hipster way, but some dude from Northlich claims their EVPCD forced them to model his designs. (Did he invent the asterisk?) And each shirt supports a charity he allegedly handpicked.
"Lame," the guy said.
Yeah. This is.
Greenpeace has built a spoof site to take on Kleenex, which, since hankies went out of mode, dominates the wipe-your-eyes and blow-your-nose market.
The "Kleer-cut" site is a barbed duplicate of Kleenex's current "Let it Out" campaign, which encourages people to hit soggy emotional highs and head for the nearest floral tissue box. "Tell calm, cool and collected to TAKE A HIKE," it coaxes. "It's time to LAUGH until you CRY. SCREAM until you spit. Show your heart and show some tears."
Following an online portfolio review, 20 designers were shipped blank skate decks from Land of Plenty and asked to decorate them for Career Day '08, which happens at Alex Cheung's Gallery in LA's Chinatown tonight. Designers can present portfolios and decorated decks to major skate firms in the flesh.
Career Day '08, which seeks to position design students in the skate industry, was organized by the Echo Factory. Visit the Career Day site to find out just how badly they need good talent.
We like things simple. We hate a lot of choice. We want someone else to do all the work. We're lazy like that so we were pleased with the amazing simplicity of this new Orbitz beach vacation planner, My Ideal Beach. In just three clicks, your perfect locale is presented with price and details. What's not to love? It's much better than trolling Priceline. That's just way, way too much work.
Ooh, ooh. More online executional madness for the limited-edition Scion tC in Galactic Gray. (Only 2300 available! Get your booster bait before it's gone.)
The ATTIK effort is a lot like this one for the limited-edition Scion xB Series 5, which is more likely to blind you with its mica sheen.
Outdoor executions will focus on demonstrating to bystanders that the car is just too cool for them. With placement and coordination by malbon Brothers Farms street teams, the car will literally move away when people draw near. (Hence the campaign name "Out of Reach.")
We love a good throwback ad. To get a feel for how the past can put everyday brands in perspective, we give you "Love Quiz" ("...for married folks only!"), from the days when Lysol was -- wait for it! -- a douche.
But this post is about current products that have been given a dated spin, courtesy of Worth 1000 (thanks, Dario!). Take a guess on what product is behind:
o The color TV-compatible joy machine
o That envy-stirring Hollandaise easy-rider
o Sassy and scandalous women's outtakes -- with wonderful Cole Porter songs!
o How video games benefit your children
For its latest site redesign, Modernista tossed caution to the winds. It did away with elaborate imagery, hype-laced content and the notion of using a website at all.
Now, users that run a search for Modernista -- and that click on the link to Modernista.com -- will be redirected to the search engine they used. In the upper left-hand corner they'll find a funky red nav bar. (Look past the bizarre 'net-speak and spelling; it is so Web 2.0.)
This is only marginally disgusting. Also, it's a promotion for "Test Your Breath," a campaign for Scope by the charmers at Dentsu and Crush.
Test your toxicity -- er, breath -- at the website.
Here's our big question: why does the guy in the elevator know what rhino shit smells like? Even even if somebody's breath did smell like rhino shit, our heads wouldn't immediately go there because we lack the appropriate frame of reference.
We'd be like, "Ooh. Stale bacon mixed with carcass of month-old monkey fetus." Because you know, we deal with that stuff in everyday life.
In this article, CNBC writer Darren Rovell uses convoluted logic to ask what consumers, in their childlike naivete, are supposed to extract from relationships between athletes and the brands that sponsor them. (And their trainers. And their trainers' websites.)
Here's the puzzle the column poses: say you're a kid, and you want to be the next LaDainian Tomlinson. Tomlinson is part of Nike's SPARQ training program. He also wears Nikes on the field. But Todd Durkin, Tomlinson's trainer, has a website sponsored by Under Armour.
Assuming you're wack enough to think this will fundamentally alter your destiny, what do you BUY? Nike trainers or Under Armour's? The author's so stuck on this that he's even taking a poll. (Who would you follow: athlete or trainer?)
We'd laugh this whole thing off, because it really is ridiculous, but then we got to thinking. Do sponsored associations between people and products really mean something?