Remember the glory years of Campaign magazine? Its own separate office slap bang in the stuccoed terraces of 22 Lancaster Gate, constructed in 1865 in the English Baroque style complete with French flair?
To be honest, the writing has been on the wall ever since they moved out to Hammersmith, but now the powers that be at Haymarket have decided that even W6 is too good for them, so welcome to Broom Road, Teddington guys. Apparently it’s in somewhere called Middlesex.
That’ll certainly put the kibosh on getting back from a posh central London eatery before the 3pm “curfew”. Maybe that’s the whole idea though.
Mind you, I’ve been doing plenty of travelling myself this week. First up Marketing Week Live (or should that be “Dead”?), where I was greeted by a live, er, “band” bashing out covers with the panache of a Friday night karaoke session.
To be fair it did seem quite busy at Olympia, but the man with the loudhailer exhorting delegates to “roll up, roll up to Marketing Weekly Live” obviously didn’t even know who he was working for. Then again, when they can’t even spell their own editor’s name in the promotional blurb – “Ruth Mortimor” anyone? – you have to worry slightly.
Still, my day was rescued by a trip to join the Adlib guys – that’s the Association of Drunken List & Insert Brokers, to those of you not in the know. Loads of fit, young and thrusting list brokers out on the free lash? You can’t beat it. Even the self-styled “Modfather of List Broking” – or should that be “The Face” of ID Data Management was there, dressed in typical Mod fashion. Loafers, cardy, stay-press strides…bless.
And now I’m all packed for my next adventure; a helicopter jaunt down to Somerset for a spot of Glasto “Glamping” later today. Of course, some people love to get down and dirty in a sodden field. I prefer to get down and dirty in the Cockmill Hideaway Campsite. My old flame Tarquin Farquar (remember him?) has invited me to go down…all weekend, and it would have been rude to refuse.
According to the write-up, we will be “enjoying the full exuberance of the Glastonbury Festival and then retreating along a country lane to our very own Luxury Indian Bhurj Tent set in a haven of tranquillity and peace”.
And he’s splashed out a cool £3,500 for the pleasure. Not too sure we’ll be enjoying “tranquillity and peace”, though. Shangri-La? Hardly. I know you’ll believe me when I say we’ll be enjoying plenty of Shag-me-la the whole weekend…
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