adVENT: the office Christmas party, media planning six months ahead and avoiding a case of gout
It's Christmas, in case you hadn't noticed, and while cheer, joy and goodwill to all men is being spread far and wide, everyone has a little grumble at this time of year as well. The Drum has invited some of those heading up some of the UK's finest media and marketing communications companies to share their pet hates that annoy them in their jobs at this time of year, albeit with tongue firmly in cheek.
David Spon-Smith – head of agency sales for The Guardian is the latest to climb aboard the adVENT soapbox.
Ebenezer Scrooge said it best.
“Christmas is a poor excuse every 25 December to pick a man’s pockets.”
But that’s not strictly true anymore is it? If it were only the 25 December then I might feel a little more charitable towards the birth of our lord and saviour. But it’s no more about the birth of a bearded, sandal wearing, do-gooder as it is a celebration parked in between the boundaries of one sunrise and sunset.
Like all media ‘professionals’ Christmas creeps up on me during my summer holiday. No sooner have I slipped into the speedos, crammed them full of tissue paper and shot-gunned the best sun-lounger by the pool when a cold, lifeless realisation flushes through me like an under cooked chicken jalfrezi.
“Shit…I’ll have to start planning for Christmas when I get back.”
I don’t know what’s worse? The tectonic inevitability of fifty Christmas re-plans for a client that can’t make up their mind or the oncoming sense of impending doom brought about by the e-invite for the office Christmas party.
Then there’s the start of ‘Silly Season’ within media-shire. You know, when you start getting some tactical gym sessions in, trying in vain, to off-set the oncoming expectations of liver and kidney damage wrapped up as ‘client entertaining’. Indeed it’s the only industry known to man that positively encourages you to add gout to your Christmas to-do list. First world problems I know, but it’s difficult to high-five yourself in the mirror when it feels like someone’s just reached inside you and stapled barbed wire to your prostrate.
But this all pales into insignificance compared to the biggest dichotomy of the year, the office Christmas Party. It’s loved and loathed in equal measure. It’s a whirlwind of poor knitwear, bad breath and overexcited interns. But like any event of its kind there are three key decisions to be made.
Decision a) What to wear?
“What you going as?” someone shrieks in my ear.
“A tired, dishevelled media executive” I sigh.
“Oh…” someone whispers.
Decision b) How to mingle?
“You’re not still going out with that idiot in Biz Dev?” I shout over the blaring thud known as music.
She cups her hand around her mouth, leans over and shouts in my ear, “No I’m not still going out with that idiot in Biz Dev!”
“Good” I shout back, “as he was seeing Mandy in HR!”
She stops dead. An awkward moment passes. “No I’m married to him.”
“Oh…” I whisper.
Decision c) Who to avoid?
Anyone wearing a Christmas jumper, anyone who is not drinking, anyone dancing, your boss, interns, people in accounts, HR personnel, econometricians, people carrying mistletoe and the CEO’s PA.
So with all that in mind, I think I’ll finish were I started and leave the final word to a certain Mr E. Scrooge.
“Bah,” said Scrooge “Humbug”.
Bah Humbug indeed.
Merry New Year.
Yesterday, MEC managing director Stuart Bowden offered his main gripes about the Christmas season.