Thursday, November 19, 2009
Midwestern State
Another class full of heavy hitters last night. Kathleen Hessert and Bob Beaudine as guest lecturers...My students don't know how good they have it. Social media is taking over and the power of who is in full effect. Today at 3 and 7, I am going to spread my knowledge to some lucky students at Midwestern State in Wichita Falls. 
Monday, November 9, 2009
Rutgers, November 10th at 4:30
Here is the poster for my lecture, signing, and reception at Rutgers tomorrow. If you are in Newark, come check it out
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Man Behind the Brand
Last week I got to speak at TCU...it was a great event. Check it out...got an article in the TCU paper.
http://tinyurl.com/TCUevent
Although it was at TCU, my SMU students should not feel left out after our class last night. Mavs, CSL, project draft...does school get more exciting!
Monday, November 2, 2009
SMU Cox Fall Newsletter
Starting today, plan on seeing weekly updates on here including: excerpts from the book, updates on speaking engagements, and anything else that connects me and all the readers.
Here is a first look. Check out the SMU Cox Fall Newsletter under Student Successes...
https://app.e2ma.net/app/view:CampaignPublic/id:26548.2510709791/rid:42722ae5c3b104607898119e80428cc7
https://app.e2ma.net/app/view:CampaignPublic/id:26548.2510709791/rid:42722ae5c3b104607898119e80428cc7
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Project Bluefoot Blog Interview
You never know how an interview is going to turn out when you sit down with a writer, especially when you're in the space that I'm in. I recently sat down with Blogger and sneaker aficionado Steez for an in-depth interview on the book and my experience at Nike and Jordan Brand. In this case, he killed it. This article is, by far, one of the best written about me or on me. I urge you to read this blog and share with your network, especially those with an interest in sneaker culture. For sneakerologists, it's a must! We drop some real science here and exclusive insight into Nike and the making of the Jordan Brand. Here's the link to the blog and Steez' new site, Project Bluefoot which is a forum for thoes who live, eat, breathe and design kicks! Without a doubt, Project Bluefoot will change the game. Good looking out, Steez!!!
http://www.projectbluefoot.com/blog/2009/06/15/the-mastermind-erin-patton-interview-part-1/
http://www.projectbluefoot.com/blog/2009/06/15/the-mastermind-erin-patton-interview-part-1/
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Chapter 3 Excerpt
From Chapter 3: "The Best Way To Predict The Future Is To Create It"
New York is to urban culture what Silicon Valley is to technology. As
the birthplace of Hip-Hop music, it has traditionally served as the epicenter
for innovation and inspiration within urban culture. New York’s
pace and competitive street dynamics also foster creativity, ingenuity,
and a hustler’s ambition among the urban culture “software developers”
to come up with the “killer app” for the culture.
That can be a new artist, a new dance, a new drink, or a new brand.
Later I’ll discuss the role these urban culture “software developers”
play in overall marketing schemes. Much like the Internet start-ups
that were born out of and led by a new generation of avant garde,
“techpreneurs” who were products of the Silicon Valley culture and
not classically trained business schools, the “Hip-Hopreneurs” who
profi ted most from the urban marketing boom were the Generation
X urban culture “software developers” such as Jay-Z, Sean “Puffy”
Combs, Ice Cube, Queen Latifah, Jermaine Dupri, and Master P who
married their passion for Hip-Hop music and lifestyle with street-level
business instincts.
These artists leveraged their understanding of what drove the culture
as former users and consumers. They designed the very “programs
and applications” corporate America was profi ting from to start
their own companies and command more equitable partnerships with
the “hardware manufacturers” representing the record companies,
fashion brands, television networks, and Hollywood studios.
Thus, instead of adopting an apparel brand, wearing it in their
videos and generating huge profi ts for someone else, they launched
“insider” brands like Rocawear and Sean John that provided products
that refl ected the desired fi t and look for the urban consumer. Then they
licensed it to retailers for distribution to the masses. The marketing and
advertising of these brands was also more refl ective of the cultural and
lifestyle nuances that corporate America could never replicate.
Of course, Hip-Hop music was the prevailing software in the culture.
The urban marketing boom of the late 1990s and early 2000s
saw a steady stream of independent record labels launched by these
Hip-Hopreneurs who signed lucrative distribution deals with the
music industry mainframe to reach a broader, mass market audience
such as Bad Boy Records (P. Diddy), Roc-A-Fella (Jay-Z) No Limit
Records (Master P), So So Def (Jermaine Dupri), and Death Row
Records. Death Row Records founder Suge Knight took the Bill Gates
approach by owning all of his label’s masters and commanding even
greater licensing and publishing fees.
These innovators were, in large part, building off a blueprint established
by the godfather of Hip-Hop, Russell Simmons. He pioneered the
way from the streets to the boardrooms by turning Def Jam records into
a brand portfolio encompassing music, fashion, technology, and TV.
Like Russell, these Hip-Hopreneurs eventually mastered the art of
designing their software and content to run across multiple platforms.
Their clothing brands showed up in the music videos they began directing
and even the movies they wrote, produced, directed and appeared
in and they licensed their brands to mobile phones.
HIP-HOP QUOTABLE
Far from a Harvard student,
Just had the balls to do it.
Jay-Z, “What More Can I Say”
As a demonstration of the bona fi de, measurable impact Hip-Hop
culture and these entrepreneurs were making on the economy, in 2003,
a BusinessWeek cover story examined Hip-Hop’s influence on corporate
America and dubbing Russell the CEO of Hip-Hop. In that same article
I sounded the alarm for marketers that the urban market had formed
a critical mass and was the new mainstream general market.
The fl oodgates were opened on Madison Avenue as everything Hip-
Hop touched was beginning to turn gold. Not only was the Big Apple
ripe with opportunity, but also it provided a laboratory for clinical
observation of urban consumer behavior that supported my philosophy
of applying consumer insights in real-time and helping brands
generate products and marketing born out of an authentic consumer
experience.
Data from the 2000 Census revealed shifting demographic patterns
that were presenting a new set of challenges for marketers who
could no longer ignore the growth of multicultural populations in the
United States. Our vision for Edelman’s Diversity Marketing practice
to establish a boutique specialty across a general market agency’s U.S.
office network was right on time. In addition to work for Fortune 500
clients such as Absolut, Home Depot, Pfi zer, and Nissan, my sports
marketing experience led to us managing Wrigley’s Doublemint on
its partnership with Venus and Serena Williams.
New York is to urban culture what Silicon Valley is to technology. As
the birthplace of Hip-Hop music, it has traditionally served as the epicenter
for innovation and inspiration within urban culture. New York’s
pace and competitive street dynamics also foster creativity, ingenuity,
and a hustler’s ambition among the urban culture “software developers”
to come up with the “killer app” for the culture.
That can be a new artist, a new dance, a new drink, or a new brand.
Later I’ll discuss the role these urban culture “software developers”
play in overall marketing schemes. Much like the Internet start-ups
that were born out of and led by a new generation of avant garde,
“techpreneurs” who were products of the Silicon Valley culture and
not classically trained business schools, the “Hip-Hopreneurs” who
profi ted most from the urban marketing boom were the Generation
X urban culture “software developers” such as Jay-Z, Sean “Puffy”
Combs, Ice Cube, Queen Latifah, Jermaine Dupri, and Master P who
married their passion for Hip-Hop music and lifestyle with street-level
business instincts.
These artists leveraged their understanding of what drove the culture
as former users and consumers. They designed the very “programs
and applications” corporate America was profi ting from to start
their own companies and command more equitable partnerships with
the “hardware manufacturers” representing the record companies,
fashion brands, television networks, and Hollywood studios.
Thus, instead of adopting an apparel brand, wearing it in their
videos and generating huge profi ts for someone else, they launched
“insider” brands like Rocawear and Sean John that provided products
that refl ected the desired fi t and look for the urban consumer. Then they
licensed it to retailers for distribution to the masses. The marketing and
advertising of these brands was also more refl ective of the cultural and
lifestyle nuances that corporate America could never replicate.
Of course, Hip-Hop music was the prevailing software in the culture.
The urban marketing boom of the late 1990s and early 2000s
saw a steady stream of independent record labels launched by these
Hip-Hopreneurs who signed lucrative distribution deals with the
music industry mainframe to reach a broader, mass market audience
such as Bad Boy Records (P. Diddy), Roc-A-Fella (Jay-Z) No Limit
Records (Master P), So So Def (Jermaine Dupri), and Death Row
Records. Death Row Records founder Suge Knight took the Bill Gates
approach by owning all of his label’s masters and commanding even
greater licensing and publishing fees.
These innovators were, in large part, building off a blueprint established
by the godfather of Hip-Hop, Russell Simmons. He pioneered the
way from the streets to the boardrooms by turning Def Jam records into
a brand portfolio encompassing music, fashion, technology, and TV.
Like Russell, these Hip-Hopreneurs eventually mastered the art of
designing their software and content to run across multiple platforms.
Their clothing brands showed up in the music videos they began directing
and even the movies they wrote, produced, directed and appeared
in and they licensed their brands to mobile phones.
HIP-HOP QUOTABLE
Far from a Harvard student,
Just had the balls to do it.
Jay-Z, “What More Can I Say”
As a demonstration of the bona fi de, measurable impact Hip-Hop
culture and these entrepreneurs were making on the economy, in 2003,
a BusinessWeek cover story examined Hip-Hop’s influence on corporate
America and dubbing Russell the CEO of Hip-Hop. In that same article
I sounded the alarm for marketers that the urban market had formed
a critical mass and was the new mainstream general market.
The fl oodgates were opened on Madison Avenue as everything Hip-
Hop touched was beginning to turn gold. Not only was the Big Apple
ripe with opportunity, but also it provided a laboratory for clinical
observation of urban consumer behavior that supported my philosophy
of applying consumer insights in real-time and helping brands
generate products and marketing born out of an authentic consumer
experience.
Data from the 2000 Census revealed shifting demographic patterns
that were presenting a new set of challenges for marketers who
could no longer ignore the growth of multicultural populations in the
United States. Our vision for Edelman’s Diversity Marketing practice
to establish a boutique specialty across a general market agency’s U.S.
office network was right on time. In addition to work for Fortune 500
clients such as Absolut, Home Depot, Pfi zer, and Nissan, my sports
marketing experience led to us managing Wrigley’s Doublemint on
its partnership with Venus and Serena Williams.
Friday, April 3, 2009
"Under The Influence" Exclusive Excerpts: Chapter 1
Chapter 1: I Am Hip-Hop
When did I first fall in love with Hip-Hop? It was in 1986 that Hip- Hop’s golden arrow hit me as I was waiting for my pre-calculus class period to start at Peabody High School in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In this case, Cupid came in the form of a rapper from Long Island, New York. One of my friends passed me a cassette tape he had just received from his cousin in New York, who was also from “strong island,” of a rapper named Rakim. I popped the tape into my Walkman and listened intently to the lyrics of the song called “My Melody.” I’ll
never forget it.
I’ll take 7 MCs put 'em in a line
And add 7 more brothers that think they can rhyme
Well it’ll take 7 more before I go for mine
And that’s 21 MCs ate up at the same time.
Rakim, “My Melody”
I can’t tell you what formulas the calculus teacher talked about that
day but Rakim’s math was more than sufficient for me. I also loved
to express myself through writing so it was inevitable that I started
writing my own rhymes.
We would eventually have rap “battles” during lunchtime in the
boys’ bathroom. I won my fair share and lost a couple, too. From that
point on, no matter what, Hip-Hop went wherever I went. LL Cool J’s
Radio was the soundtrack for my junior year in 1986 and Run-DMC’s Rock Box
became my workout anthem for summer football practice.
During this time, Hip-Hop also became more than just a sound. Rappers
began talking about shoes and clothes and their album covers always
showcased the hottest gear. All of a sudden, it became very necessary to wear
a Kangol hat because LL Cool J sported one or Adidas shell toes once Run-DMC
dropped its classic “My Adidas.” The pressure was on to find a fresh
pair of shell toes with the fat laces like the BBoys on the classic Hip-Hop
film Krush Groove. I was raised in a single-parent household with two
older brothers in the tough Homewood-Brushton section of Pittsburgh
so things were tight financially for us. Mom worked two jobs just to
keep food on the table, and much to my chagrin, shell toes were not a
priority over the light bill that month.
One day after finishing a baseball game, I found a stack of dollar bills lying in the
outfield grass. I dashed to David’s Shoes in the East Liberty section of the city, which
always had the newest shoes, to get a pair of shell toes. I was disappointed
to find the price tag after the tax was more than the $20 in crumpled bills I had.
As I walked back toward the bus stop disheartened, I walked by a store that had what
looked like a pair of shell toes. They even had three stripes. Unfortunately, they didn’t
have the Adidas name. I bought them anyway. The next day in school, I quickly learned
the two golden rules of the Hip-Hop culture and lifestyle: Authenticity and Originality.
If you didn’t have the latest, you’d be ridiculed. And, boy, did it get tougher and tougher
to keep up. The brands moved swiftly from Adidas sneakers to Air Jordans, sweat suits
like Le Coq Sportif, and outerwear such as Starter jackets for the guys. Meanwhile, brands
like Sassoon and Gloria Vanderbilt became must haves for girls.
Hip-Hop Quotable
I’ve been in the game for ten years making rap tunes
ever since honeys was wearing Sassoon
Dr. Dre, “California Love”
The thirst for designer wares became insatiable and was born out of a desire to demonstrate to our peers that we were cool. It also gave us a temporary hold on the finer things in life, which were typically beyond our grasp. All of a sudden, this array of fashion and clothing brands, which was being fueled by Hip-Hop’s growing imagery and funneled through its clever lyrics, became the canvas for my friends and I to create our own style.
In the summer of 1987, I left Pittsburgh to attend college outside of Chicago at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois, and I took Hip-Hop with me. The period of the late 1980s and early 1990s were clearly the golden years for Hip-Hop music and the onset of the urban mindset
in critical mass as well as the early formation of distinct segments within the population. Artists like EPMD (acronym for Erick and Parrish Making Dollars) and Big Daddy Kane, who made gold the jewelry of choice for us, epitomized the fulfi llment of the lifestyle aspirations
of the Hip-Hop generation to access material trappings.
Conversely, groups like Public Enemy and KRS-One’s Boogie Down Productions raised the level of political and social awareness, countering the early consumerism exhibited by the Hip-Hop generation, while De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest supplanted brand consciousness
with self-consciousness and positive self-expression. On the West Coast, N.W.A. brought tales of the streets and gangs to the culture and were one of the first to make sports team apparel popular by donning Los Angeles Raiders (NFL) gear to promote their menacing brand imagery.
During this time, apparel brands such as Cross Colours, T.R.O.O.P., and Tommy Hilfiger flourished along with Hip-Hop’s rising popularity. In a later chapter I’ll discuss how Tommy Hilfiger failed to leverage the loyalty of urban consumers that, ultimately, led to the decline of the brand’s pop culture relevance and sales.
When I graduated from Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism in 1991, Hip-Hop’s new urban culture was just beginning to plant its seeds within corporate America. I started my career at Burrell Communications Group in Chicago as a public relations intern.
Tom Burrell, one of the early pioneers in African-American advertising, founded Burrell Communications. Burrell was the leading African-American agency during that time and found huge success as companies began to realize the importance of reaching specific,
multi-cultural “segments.” Although the Hispanic market was receiving very little attention
at the time due to the language barrier, Burrell was making strides by showing companies that African-American consumers spoke English just like the general market but not always the same language, culturally.
Jim Hill, a former McDonald’s executive, and Michelle Flowers, led the PR arm of Burrell. Jim and Michelle are widely regarded as two of the industry’s most prominent African-American PR practitioners. Burrell had a host of Fortune 500 clients, including Brown-Forman, McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, Quaker Oats, and Procter & Gamble.
My first assignment was to handle publicity for Procter & Gamble’s sponsorship of the six-city Black Family Reunion Celebration, which was the brainchild of the legendary Dr. Dorothy Height of the National Council of Negro Women. The tour was a great success and enabled Procter & Gamble to connect African-American families with its products, from Tide to
Crest and Head & Shoulders. I wrote press releases for each event, coordinated interviews for Procter & Gamble, and distributed photos of the celebrities who participated to local media. I was even able to use my rhyming skills as part of the promotion we did for Procter &
Gamble’s Sunny Delight brand. We gave visitors to the Sunny Delight booth the chance to rap to Sunny Delight lyrics I penned.
Jim, Michelle, and my boss, Deborah Taylor Lucien, were great mentors for me and were instrumental in convincing me to abandon my plans of being a journalist (and aspiring rapper) for a career in public relations and marketing. I remain grateful to them to this
day for placing me in position to leverage my background and urban market insights. It was during that summer that I discovered the unique value of combining my inner-city experience with the skills I’d honed through valuable programs like Inroads.
Inroads was founded in the 1980s to help minority students prepare for corporate
America and professional success through internships, workshops, and mentoring. I credit Inroads with much of the success I have experienced today. As an inner-city kid with no corporate role models, I learned how to dress for an interview and navigate the often-turbulent waters of corporate America.
It was also around this time that Burrell forged a revolutionary marriage between Hip-Hop and corporate America with its ads for Sprite featuring rap duo Kid ’n Play. The duo was commercial friendly and their music was positive and youthful. Kid ’n Play made the hit film House Party and embodied the creativity of Hip-Hop’s innovators. The duo invented dances, fashions and
hairstyles. Kid is best remembered for bringing the “High Top Fade” or Gumby haircut to the masses. Armed with a solid foundation in multicultural marketing, I left Burrell for a general market public relations agency in Chicago, Edelman Worldwide. As the only African-American account executive in the firm, I leveraged my knowledge of the African-American market
to help agency clients such as KFC, Microsoft, and Brown-Forman tap into this growing segment. I’ll never forget getting a call from an up-and-coming rap group who had a song called “Southern Comfort,” which was one of Brown-Forman’s leading brands.
I developed a proposal for a program and partnership with the group to help the brand promote its product and increase trial among African-Americans. While it appears that the program proposal never made it to the client, the group made it into the industry and achieved
moderate success. I can only imagine what it might have done for both
of them if the memo had made it to the client.
While I quickly gained the favor of Edelman founder and and legendary public relations figure Dan Edelman, I learned that I was ahead of my time. After a couple of frustrating years at the agency, I was ready for a change when I received a call from a headhunter asking if I’d
be interested in a position with Kellogg in Battle Creek, Michigan. I visited the Kellogg headquarters in Battle Creek for a round of interviews that I felt went great. Needless to say, I was shocked when the human resources manager called to say they loved me, but had decided to give the job to someone else.
As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. It’s just the time in between that we spend in the hallway that makes us most uncomfortable. Two weeks later I received another call from the headhunter, this time asking if I’d be interested in working for Nike.
To Be Continued...in my next post, I'll provide exclusive excerpts to take you Inside The Swoosh and behind-the-scenes of the launch of the Jordan brand, including my experience working with the G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time) Michael Jordan. You sneakerheads won't want to miss this!
When did I first fall in love with Hip-Hop? It was in 1986 that Hip- Hop’s golden arrow hit me as I was waiting for my pre-calculus class period to start at Peabody High School in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In this case, Cupid came in the form of a rapper from Long Island, New York. One of my friends passed me a cassette tape he had just received from his cousin in New York, who was also from “strong island,” of a rapper named Rakim. I popped the tape into my Walkman and listened intently to the lyrics of the song called “My Melody.” I’ll
never forget it.
I’ll take 7 MCs put 'em in a line
And add 7 more brothers that think they can rhyme
Well it’ll take 7 more before I go for mine
And that’s 21 MCs ate up at the same time.
Rakim, “My Melody”
I can’t tell you what formulas the calculus teacher talked about that
day but Rakim’s math was more than sufficient for me. I also loved
to express myself through writing so it was inevitable that I started
writing my own rhymes.
We would eventually have rap “battles” during lunchtime in the
boys’ bathroom. I won my fair share and lost a couple, too. From that
point on, no matter what, Hip-Hop went wherever I went. LL Cool J’s
Radio was the soundtrack for my junior year in 1986 and Run-DMC’s Rock Box
became my workout anthem for summer football practice.
During this time, Hip-Hop also became more than just a sound. Rappers
began talking about shoes and clothes and their album covers always
showcased the hottest gear. All of a sudden, it became very necessary to wear
a Kangol hat because LL Cool J sported one or Adidas shell toes once Run-DMC
dropped its classic “My Adidas.” The pressure was on to find a fresh
pair of shell toes with the fat laces like the BBoys on the classic Hip-Hop
film Krush Groove. I was raised in a single-parent household with two
older brothers in the tough Homewood-Brushton section of Pittsburgh
so things were tight financially for us. Mom worked two jobs just to
keep food on the table, and much to my chagrin, shell toes were not a
priority over the light bill that month.
One day after finishing a baseball game, I found a stack of dollar bills lying in the
outfield grass. I dashed to David’s Shoes in the East Liberty section of the city, which
always had the newest shoes, to get a pair of shell toes. I was disappointed
to find the price tag after the tax was more than the $20 in crumpled bills I had.
As I walked back toward the bus stop disheartened, I walked by a store that had what
looked like a pair of shell toes. They even had three stripes. Unfortunately, they didn’t
have the Adidas name. I bought them anyway. The next day in school, I quickly learned
the two golden rules of the Hip-Hop culture and lifestyle: Authenticity and Originality.
If you didn’t have the latest, you’d be ridiculed. And, boy, did it get tougher and tougher
to keep up. The brands moved swiftly from Adidas sneakers to Air Jordans, sweat suits
like Le Coq Sportif, and outerwear such as Starter jackets for the guys. Meanwhile, brands
like Sassoon and Gloria Vanderbilt became must haves for girls.
Hip-Hop Quotable
I’ve been in the game for ten years making rap tunes
ever since honeys was wearing Sassoon
Dr. Dre, “California Love”
The thirst for designer wares became insatiable and was born out of a desire to demonstrate to our peers that we were cool. It also gave us a temporary hold on the finer things in life, which were typically beyond our grasp. All of a sudden, this array of fashion and clothing brands, which was being fueled by Hip-Hop’s growing imagery and funneled through its clever lyrics, became the canvas for my friends and I to create our own style.
In the summer of 1987, I left Pittsburgh to attend college outside of Chicago at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois, and I took Hip-Hop with me. The period of the late 1980s and early 1990s were clearly the golden years for Hip-Hop music and the onset of the urban mindset
in critical mass as well as the early formation of distinct segments within the population. Artists like EPMD (acronym for Erick and Parrish Making Dollars) and Big Daddy Kane, who made gold the jewelry of choice for us, epitomized the fulfi llment of the lifestyle aspirations
of the Hip-Hop generation to access material trappings.
Conversely, groups like Public Enemy and KRS-One’s Boogie Down Productions raised the level of political and social awareness, countering the early consumerism exhibited by the Hip-Hop generation, while De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest supplanted brand consciousness
with self-consciousness and positive self-expression. On the West Coast, N.W.A. brought tales of the streets and gangs to the culture and were one of the first to make sports team apparel popular by donning Los Angeles Raiders (NFL) gear to promote their menacing brand imagery.
During this time, apparel brands such as Cross Colours, T.R.O.O.P., and Tommy Hilfiger flourished along with Hip-Hop’s rising popularity. In a later chapter I’ll discuss how Tommy Hilfiger failed to leverage the loyalty of urban consumers that, ultimately, led to the decline of the brand’s pop culture relevance and sales.
When I graduated from Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism in 1991, Hip-Hop’s new urban culture was just beginning to plant its seeds within corporate America. I started my career at Burrell Communications Group in Chicago as a public relations intern.
Tom Burrell, one of the early pioneers in African-American advertising, founded Burrell Communications. Burrell was the leading African-American agency during that time and found huge success as companies began to realize the importance of reaching specific,
multi-cultural “segments.” Although the Hispanic market was receiving very little attention
at the time due to the language barrier, Burrell was making strides by showing companies that African-American consumers spoke English just like the general market but not always the same language, culturally.
Jim Hill, a former McDonald’s executive, and Michelle Flowers, led the PR arm of Burrell. Jim and Michelle are widely regarded as two of the industry’s most prominent African-American PR practitioners. Burrell had a host of Fortune 500 clients, including Brown-Forman, McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, Quaker Oats, and Procter & Gamble.
My first assignment was to handle publicity for Procter & Gamble’s sponsorship of the six-city Black Family Reunion Celebration, which was the brainchild of the legendary Dr. Dorothy Height of the National Council of Negro Women. The tour was a great success and enabled Procter & Gamble to connect African-American families with its products, from Tide to
Crest and Head & Shoulders. I wrote press releases for each event, coordinated interviews for Procter & Gamble, and distributed photos of the celebrities who participated to local media. I was even able to use my rhyming skills as part of the promotion we did for Procter &
Gamble’s Sunny Delight brand. We gave visitors to the Sunny Delight booth the chance to rap to Sunny Delight lyrics I penned.
Jim, Michelle, and my boss, Deborah Taylor Lucien, were great mentors for me and were instrumental in convincing me to abandon my plans of being a journalist (and aspiring rapper) for a career in public relations and marketing. I remain grateful to them to this
day for placing me in position to leverage my background and urban market insights. It was during that summer that I discovered the unique value of combining my inner-city experience with the skills I’d honed through valuable programs like Inroads.
Inroads was founded in the 1980s to help minority students prepare for corporate
America and professional success through internships, workshops, and mentoring. I credit Inroads with much of the success I have experienced today. As an inner-city kid with no corporate role models, I learned how to dress for an interview and navigate the often-turbulent waters of corporate America.
It was also around this time that Burrell forged a revolutionary marriage between Hip-Hop and corporate America with its ads for Sprite featuring rap duo Kid ’n Play. The duo was commercial friendly and their music was positive and youthful. Kid ’n Play made the hit film House Party and embodied the creativity of Hip-Hop’s innovators. The duo invented dances, fashions and
hairstyles. Kid is best remembered for bringing the “High Top Fade” or Gumby haircut to the masses. Armed with a solid foundation in multicultural marketing, I left Burrell for a general market public relations agency in Chicago, Edelman Worldwide. As the only African-American account executive in the firm, I leveraged my knowledge of the African-American market
to help agency clients such as KFC, Microsoft, and Brown-Forman tap into this growing segment. I’ll never forget getting a call from an up-and-coming rap group who had a song called “Southern Comfort,” which was one of Brown-Forman’s leading brands.
I developed a proposal for a program and partnership with the group to help the brand promote its product and increase trial among African-Americans. While it appears that the program proposal never made it to the client, the group made it into the industry and achieved
moderate success. I can only imagine what it might have done for both
of them if the memo had made it to the client.
While I quickly gained the favor of Edelman founder and and legendary public relations figure Dan Edelman, I learned that I was ahead of my time. After a couple of frustrating years at the agency, I was ready for a change when I received a call from a headhunter asking if I’d
be interested in a position with Kellogg in Battle Creek, Michigan. I visited the Kellogg headquarters in Battle Creek for a round of interviews that I felt went great. Needless to say, I was shocked when the human resources manager called to say they loved me, but had decided to give the job to someone else.
As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. It’s just the time in between that we spend in the hallway that makes us most uncomfortable. Two weeks later I received another call from the headhunter, this time asking if I’d be interested in working for Nike.
To Be Continued...in my next post, I'll provide exclusive excerpts to take you Inside The Swoosh and behind-the-scenes of the launch of the Jordan brand, including my experience working with the G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time) Michael Jordan. You sneakerheads won't want to miss this!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Welcome
Welcome to Under The Influence! In the coming weeks as we get closer to its release, I will be providing exclusive excerpts from my forthcoming book, "Under The Influence: Tracing the Hip-Hop Generation's Impact on Brands, Sports & Pop Culture." I look forward to hearing your feedback and creating dialogue around this topic as well as getting your comments and feedback to topical issues that I will be addressing. Let's go.
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