Tuesday, May 28, 2013

The Success of Dove’s Real Beauty Sketches Campaign Makes Me Wonder: Can Business Save the World?



there are no little thingsThe Dove Real Beauty Sketches Campaign recently became the most watched ad—ever.

It beat out the Evian Roller Babies. Which means it’s been watched more times than adorably chubby half-naked babies street skating and kickin’ it ol’ skool.

That says something.

I recently stumbled—quite literally—into a library shelf containing the book The Seven Lost Secrets of Success by Joe Vitale. It explains the ideas of an ad man who was a household name the ‘20s and ‘30s and is now, largely forgotten.

His name was Bruce Barton. He’s the second “B” in Batten, Barton, Durstine, and Osborn, an advertising agency that still operates today. There, Barton helped unknowns such as Andrew Carnegie and Henry Ford succeed by using advertising to promote their goods.

So what did Barton “know” that others did not?

Barton believed business would save the world.

Funny, right? In a world where corporate corruption dominates, it’s much easier to buy into the idea that business could "save" the world. Or that business would change the world. But "would save"?

Well, the success of Dove’s campaign may be a good example of his theory at work. Barton encouraged clients to “reveal the business nobody knows.” Americans know what Dove sells. So the company aligned itself with a “universal” need it could help us meet: Dove helped us feel beautiful.

I feel a compulsive need to instill in my daughter the truth of her own beauty. She’s almost three. Beautiful inside and out. And she already pretends to put on makeup so she can be “pretty.”

She watches mama put foundation on her “blotchy complexion,” mascara on her “squinty eyes,” and blush on her “ghostly-white skin.”

What kind of hideous monster would my sketch artist draw? Worse, what will the little girl who looks a lot like mama see in the mirror at age 13?

Whether the campaign’s success will encourage us to buy more of Dove’s products, I don’t know and won’t attempt to speculate. But I do know this: Dove’s campaign changed my thinking--personally and professionally. Maybe it changed yours, too.

Like Barton said, “Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things . . . I am tempted to think . . . there are no little things.”

How can your business “save” the world?  

Friday, May 10, 2013

Why don't I blog more? It's all my mom's fault.

Me and my pretty mama, circa 1989
What's the number one thing I tell my clients to do before launching a social media campaign or other like
project?

Create an editorial calendar.

Number two?

Develop a few "evergreen" posts for those days/weeks you are too busy or you have a nasty case of the Writer's Block.

What does Carie Sherman do 90 percent of the time?

I wing it.

And it gives me a tummy ache. So, why don't I stop?

I suspect it's because of my mother.

Yep, two days shy of Mother's Day, and I'm telling the world how it's all her fault.

See, my mom is crazy-skilled in the organizational realm. With three kids running amuck, a husband who worked from home, and a farm to manage--it was necessary.

Apparently I felt stifled by her rigid* schedules.

Which is exactly why I haven't found time to create my editorial calendar and write those posts. I'm far to busy re-washing the load of laundry I started on Sunday, digging through stored flower pots to find my rain boots, and tearing every room of my house apart looking for my dog's vaccination papers (which were conveniently located in my bedroom closet tucked in the purse I carried last summer).

Systems. Who needs 'em? Not me, I tell ya. Not me. Now, where did I put our water bill...

Happy Mother's Day to my amazing how-does-she-do-it-all Mom. If I do half as good raising my daughter as she did with me...well, we may actually lose her under a pile of toys and clothes for a few years, but I'm sure she'll emerge a confident, creative, and loving human being. Thanks, ma. 

*She had certain days that she did laundry--and she folded and put each load away within minutes of the dryer beep. She had a grocery day, where she would purchase enough food to feed us for a week, which she knew because she PLANNED A MENU. She picks up the house each night and makes her bed every morning. Every. Morning. Madness, I tell you! Pure madness.