A Creative Director's Life, Part 15, A NY Job With A Lifetime Benefit

Passing thought:

I just saw a window on Lexington Ave. that featured a sign reading, "Flyer Boy
Wanted". What an odd medium for Air Force recruitment.

I’d like to say I planned every step of my career. Not. Between jobs I often had
doubts and misgivings. Am I good enough for this kind of work? What if I never get
another job in advertising? At one point I even called my friend Bobby Gray, who
was then a teacher, and asked what qualifications I would need to teach. As luck
would have it along came an offer from Amos Parrish and Co. What’s an Amos
Parrish? It’s America’s leading consulting firm for retailing and merchandising.
Sounded good and best of all it was on Fifth Ave. in New York, only one block from
Madison Ave, my ultimate destination. I interviewed with the head of department
store consulting, one Murray Rae. He reminded me of George Raft and talked like
him. After hemming and hawing he fingers his chin and murmurs " O.K. Kiddo, we’ll
engage you. We’re not going to marry you, but we’ll watch and see how things work
out." More encouraging words were never spoken. So with that vote of confidence I
took the job as a copywriter for leading department stores at a salary of $6,000 a
year. Amos Parrish became an opportunity that would lead to valuable retail
experience as well as an encounter that would change my life.

For department stores such as Meir & Frank, Woodworth and Lothrop, Burdine’s
Hecht, Carson Pirie Scott, Hudson’s Bay, Foley’s, Marshall Field, etc. I gave
names to promotional events, mostly sales, and wrote the introductory full page
newspaper ads. "Whale of a Sale", "Honey of a Sale" for Bear’s, "Humongous Sale",
and for Christmas , "B. Altman Has a Gift for Giving", "At Lord & Taylor Back to
School is Cool".Somebody had to write those gems. The projects were known as
"attacks" and the sales people sold them with little concern for timing so you
were always working against short deadlines. If the staff had its way the attacks
would be lodged against the guys who promised unrealistic delivery dates. The
stores needed enough lead time to get ready for the event and line up the hundreds
of sale items, particularly the doorbusters, those small type boldface listings
that featured the largest savings of the sale and produced the most traffic.

I worked in a big room with four guys who crunched numbers for the sales goals set
during the promotional events. I was the lone creative. We hardly saw Murray Rae,
the department head. Instead he delegated his supervisory responsibility to
Dorothy Hoanzl. In essence she ran the department making sure the work was on
schedule. Because she cajoled, pushed and prodded to get the projects finished in
time, Dorothy was not the most beloved person in the company. As she made her
rounds, to make sure deadlines were met Dorothy sometimes lost her cool, raised
her voice and became officious and irritating. She was always firm but polite when
checking my work. I found her demeanor rather amusing. The other guys she was
shepherding didn’t. Their resentment led to some charming nicknames, the nicest of
which was, "The Dragon Lady." The rest would have made George Carlin’s infamous
list of seven. I enjoyed eying this chic and attractive young woman play boss to a
bunch of wise guys who just naturally resented being told what to do by a girl
they wouldn’t mind getting to know better. While Dorothy occasionally pissed me
off she was too lovely looking to ignore. I decided there must be a softer, more
endearing side to the Dorothy that I saw in that office so I took it upon myself
to find it. Fifty years later, three great kids, three wonderful grandchildren and
I think I know the real Dorothy. Despite some potholes along the way it's a
voyage I would do all over again. These days Dorothy Hampel directs her rants at
politicians on television.
It’s not that my wife doesn’t occasionaly revert to earlier form but by now we
just reminisce and laugh.

A principle I picked up at Amos Parrish served me well in later years, especialy

in one important meeting with Sears Roebuck execs while I was in Chicago at Foote
Cone & Belding. The discussion was about Sears' newspaper advertising and how the
agency could help improve its effectiveness. I chimed in, "Something I learned a
long time ago when I worked at Amos Parrish and Co.,"Promote most what sells
best." One female Sears' senior marketing executive at the table spoke up, " I
agree with that and we should be doing more of it. You worked at Amos Parrish? I
used to attend those fashion clinics. They were fabulous." With that meeting I
became a consultant to the Sears account which was one of Foote Cone & Belding's
largest pieces of business and one which was constantly rumored to be in trouble.
We did not lose the Sears account while I was executive creative director of the
agency.

July 21, 2008 in advertising | Permalink

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A Creative Director's Life, Part 15, A NY Job With A Lifetime Benefit

Passing thought:

I just saw a window on Lexington Ave. that featured a sign reading, "Flyer Boy
Wanted". What an odd medium for Air Force recruitment.

I’d like to say I planned every step of my career. Not. Between jobs I often had
doubts and misgivings. Am I good enough for this kind of work? What if I never get
another job in advertising? At one point I even called my friend Bobby Gray, who
was then a teacher, and asked what qualifications I would need to teach. As luck
would have it along came an offer from Amos Parrish and Co. What’s an Amos
Parrish? It’s America’s leading consulting firm for retailing and merchandising.
Sounded good and best of all it was on Fifth Ave. in New York, only one block from
Madison Ave, my ultimate destination. I interviewed with the head of department
store consulting, one Murray Rae. He reminded me of George Raft and talked like
him. After hemming and hawing he fingers his chin and murmurs " O.K. Kiddo, we’ll
engage you. We’re not going to marry you, but we’ll watch and see how things work
out." More encouraging words were never spoken. So with that vote of confidence I
took the job as a copywriter for leading department stores at a salary of $6,000 a
year. Amos Parrish became an opportunity that would lead to valuable retail
experience as well as an encounter that would change my life.

For department stores such as Meir & Frank, Woodworth and Lothrop, Burdine’s
Hecht, Carson Pirie Scott, Hudson’s Bay, Foley’s, Marshall Field, etc. I gave
names to promotional events, mostly sales, and wrote the introductory full page
newspaper ads. "Whale of a Sale", "Honey of a Sale" for Bear’s, "Humongous Sale",
and for Christmas , "B. Altman Has a Gift for Giving", "At Lord & Taylor Back to
School is Cool".Somebody had to write those gems. The projects were known as
"attacks" and the sales people sold them with little concern for timing so you
were always working against short deadlines. If the staff had its way the attacks
would be lodged against the guys who promised unrealistic delivery dates. The
stores needed enough lead time to get ready for the event and line up the hundreds
of sale items, particularly the doorbusters, those small type boldface listings
that featured the largest savings of the sale and produced the most traffic.

I worked in a big room with four guys who crunched numbers for the sales goals set
during the promotional events. I was the lone creative. We hardly saw Murray Rae,
the department head. Instead he delegated his supervisory responsibility to
Dorothy Hoanzl. In essence she ran the department making sure the work was on
schedule. Because she cajoled, pushed and prodded to get the projects finished in
time, Dorothy was not the most beloved person in the company. As she made her
rounds, to make sure deadlines were met Dorothy sometimes lost her cool, raised
her voice and became officious and irritating. She was always firm but polite when
checking my work. I found her demeanor rather amusing. The other guys she was
shepherding didn’t. Their resentment led to some charming nicknames, the nicest of
which was, "The Dragon Lady." The rest would have made George Carlin’s infamous
list of seven. I enjoyed eying this chic and attractive young woman play boss to a
bunch of wise guys who just naturally resented being told what to do by a girl
they wouldn’t mind getting to know better. While Dorothy occasionally pissed me
off she was too lovely looking to ignore. I decided there must be a softer, more
endearing side to the Dorothy that I saw in that office so I took it upon myself
to find it. Fifty years later, three great kids, three wonderful grandchildren and
I think I know the real Dorothy. Despite some potholes along the way it's a
voyage I would do all over again. These days Dorothy Hampel directs her rants at
politicians on television.

It’s not that my wife doesn’t occasionaly revert to earlier form but by now we
just reminisce and laugh.

A principle I picked up at Amos Parrish served me well in later years, especialy

in one important meeting with Sears Roebuck execs while I was in Chicago at Foote
Cone & Belding. The discussion was about Sears' newspaper advertising and how the
agency could help improve its effectiveness. I chimed in, "Something I learned a
long time ago when I worked at Amos Parrish and Co.,"Promote most what sells
best." One female Sears' senior marketing executive at the table spoke up, " I
agree with that and we should be doing more of it. You worked at Amos Parrish? I
used to attend those fashion clinics. They were fabulous." With that meeting I
became a consultant to the Sears account which was one of Foote Cone & Belding's
largest pieces of business and one which was constantly rumored to be in trouble.
We did not lose the Sears account while I was executive creative director of the
agency.

July 21, 2008 in advertising | Permalink

Comments
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