Invisible Brand

With the (so-called) festive season upon us, Lucian Camp reflects on the true meaning of the Christmas Party. Is it “Best Wishes” or simply “Bah, humbug”?

Oh God, it’s almost that time of the year again already. No, not Christmas time – I like Christmas. Something much more sinister and alarming – Agency Christmas Party time.

I’m sure that in this world, there are people who really enjoy agency Christmas parties. They love it that all their colleagues and in many cases clients and suppliers are so funny and clever and sophisticated when they get really drunk. They think it’s fab that a double-digit percentage of the junior clients throw up, and that one very junior and male one always gets very punchy and makes an absurd and unsuccessful attempt to flatten one of our younger designers. They like the fact that according to the unwritten rules, after midnight it’s OK to intrude deep into any senior agency manager’s territorial space and address him or her from a distance of less than two inches with spittle-inflected remarks beginning “Now what you doan unnerstan…”. They’ve never seen a photocopy of anyone’s bum before. And they’re not yet tired of posing with tongues out, and index and little fingers outstretched in the “rawk” configuration, for the disposable cameras left on the tables so that people can take hundreds of pictures that look exactly the same as last year’s.

I’m sorry. I know, I’m too old. I’ve been to too many. As far as the “Now what you doan unnerstan” conversation is concerned, I shifted from the transmit to the receive role too many years ago. And in the unlikely event that I was drunk or foolish enough to clamber onto the photocopier, it would collapse beneath my weight. If you’re one of those who greets the arrival of agency Christmas parties with wild cries of enthusiasm, then my sincere apologies not just for my cynicism, but also for the fact that once again this year, we won’t be giving you the opportunity. We used to. Up until about five years ago, we were in the habit of inviting up to about 200 clients, friends and suppliers, as well as our own staff. But then one year we carried out a morning-after post-mortem (actually, I think for obvious reasons it was the morning after the morning after) and calculated – this may not be exactly right, but it’s not far off – that we’d actually fed and watered 15 out of 150 invited clients, 4 out of 20 friends and 37 out of 30 printers.

You won’t be in the least surprised to hear about the printers, but the poor turn-out among the clients does require some explanation. It’s not that they hate us, or anyway I don’t think they do – it’s just that almost all of them are, or were at the time, based out of London, and mostly a long way out of London, and with the exception of one firm which bravely organised a minibus to take a very, very wasted marketing department back down the M4 in the small hours, they were all daunted by the distance. At least, that’s what they told us.

Anyway, the question arising from this analysis was ultimately how much money we want to divert from the agency’s bonus pool to render some three dozen printers insensible, and the short answer to this question was “None.”

So since then, the agency Christmas party has been a private affair – strictly staff only. In these downturn-darkened times I can assure you you’re not missing much this year, just an oversweetened fruit punch and a sack of Pringles. But if you really fancy it, then as a very special favour you can always have my place. Especially on the after-midnight shift.