End of an agency

Those of you in the UK who work outside London might have seen the ad below earlier this month in The Drum – it was Poulters’ last ever ad.  I’ve blogged before about how sad it was to see one of the long standing Northern heavyweight agencies fall, but the majority of copy here (which I’ve pasted below for ease of reading) seems appropriate for almost any departing agency and a reminder of both the good and the not so good sides of agency life.

The creatives behind the ad were apparently the lovely Mick and Gaz by the way, who are now freelance.

poulters-last-ad (click link for high res pdf)

They say you’re only as good as your last ad. Well this is ours.
After this there will be no more headlines, no more copy, no more
visuals, no more logo to make bigger. No more good briefs, no
more bad briefs, no more unreasonable deadlines and no more late
night food deliveries (sorry George’s Pizzas). No more budgets,
no more contact reports. No more filling out timesheets, no more
fabricating your timesheets. No more SP, DM, PR, B2B or PS2 over
lunchtime. No more getting on pitch lists, no more winning pitches,
no more wishing we’d won a few more pitches. No more creative
awards, effectiveness awards, regional awards, national awards or
international awards. Nothing more for the cleaners to polish. No
more art working, type kernin g, proof reading or spell cheking.
No more dealing with the lovely people at the BACC. No more
spending your evening with the security guard rather than your
family. No more money left to book lavish double page spreads
(does anyone know who’s paying for this?). No more account
handlers spitting blood with creatives. No more putting it all to
rights in the Adelphi after work. No more back slapping or back
stabbing. No more rumours, no more gossip, no more strenuous
denials and no more ‘no comment’. No more being on the brink of
greatness or the brink of disaster. No more wondering why
the phone list keeps getting shorter or why the client list
isn’t getting any longer. No more sliding slowly into the gutter.
No more enjoying the highs of a new business win. No
more enjoying the highs from smelling your Pentel marker. No more
brainstorms, thought showers or blue sky thinking. No more tissue
meetings, no more client meetings, no more clients. No more
turfing out the MD’s office for the World Cup. No more turfing out
the MD. No more above the line, below the line, through the line,
just the end of the line. No more blazing a trail through the 60’s and
70’s or living the advertising dream in the 80’s. No more advertising
Porsche cars. No more advertising Lada cars. No more choosing
Porsches over Ladas for company cars. No more animated oven
chips riding on surf boards (it was original at the time). No more
taglines we’ll never forget, like “they’re choc’a bloc man”. No
more taglines we’d sooner forget, like “they’re choc’a bloc man”.
No more brands that need building. No more airlines to get off the
ground. No more bookmakers to gamble everything on. No more
Tracy and Lorraine to keep the perfect reception. No more phone
calls to answer (unless they’re from recruitment agencies). No more
young industry hopefuls passing through the doors at Burley Road
or Rose Wharf. No more talented, inspired individuals coming
back out again. No more working with friends, rather than
just colleagues. No more being part of an advertising institution.
No more rollercoaster to ride. No more words left to say.
No more Poulters.