May 13, 2009

Brand Management: The Golden Head Butt

by Borbay posted @3:34 PM

Brand ManagementOH, JACKIE OHPicture it: Dressed to the nines (or, at least, the sevens) navigating the crowd—feeling important. A bump! Words. The nearly still atmosphere gives way to a short, powerful burst of moving air. Smash! An all-too-close thud, triggering a high-pitched buzz in the ears, silencing Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" (which was triumphantly playing on repeat). Yes, it's difficult to get behind the bridge of somebody's nose, milliseconds before being smashed by Kiefer Sutherland's forehead. As you probably know, only designer Jack McCollough wonders no longer what that experience is like.

Predictably, Kiefer, as he is on probation, will likely serve some time, or at least do some community service, and certainly will dole out cash-money in a civil suit. And this storyline is a surefire way for Jack McCollough to become "that fashion guy who got his nose broke by Kiefer, delaying Season 8 of '24'—right after the storyline was gaining momentum," AKA, "that bastard!"

Sure, he can let that happen to him. It's what everyone expects.

But what if Mr. McCollough recognizes this phenomenal branding opportunity? Why not change the story?

Let's try: "On fashion icon Jack McCollough's rise to fame and fortune, he capitalized on an altercation at a Manhattan bar with the hands (face) of actor Kiefer Sutherland, back in 2009."

If you're already paying (getting sponsors/Anna Wintour to pay) $75,000 to attend the Met Costume Institute Gala, and you win the Bloody-broken-nose-at-the-hands-of-a-drunk-and-largely-relevant-celebrity Prize, you owe it to yourself and the world to get creative. A rising designer and now a proper bold-faced name for Page Six (his first go-round in the tabloid press was less celebrity-inflected), it's time to for McCollough to get on his knees and milk the teet of marketing success.

Why not trade the pressing of charges in exchange for making Jack Bauer's outfits for "24"? Retain Kiefer to wear your duds (royalty and payment free, of course) in a commercial on par with Conan O'Brien's Bud Light commercial—then make Kiefer go on Letterman and promote it.

Feeling vengeful? Call TMZ, deck Kiefer head-to-toe in fur, take him out, get him loaded, blind fold him, walk him into PETA Headquarters, turn around, walk out and pitch a mighty finger tent.

Back in 2001, my checkered shirt got a taste of Mr. Sutherland's shoulder first hand at an Irish Pub, Midtown. As I wandered toward the back of the bar, some guy sloshingly plows into me and continues on. Furious, I pivoted, prepared to unleash my 135 pounds (at the time) of fury upon my oppressor… but wait! It was Kiefer Sutherland. I quickly experienced the following (in order):

* Shock: Sweaty cats! It's Kiefer Sutherland!
* Devious Plotting: I wonder how much I could sue him for if I let him beat me senseless?
* Practical: I don't know, he kind of scared me in "Stand by Me." Getting punched really hurts, and that gin and tonic is looking mighty refreshing.
* Practical/Actual: He apologized quickly, I reluctantly accepted. Everyone continued boozing, and Kiefer bought rounds for the house before stumbling-off into the neon-lit sunset, with some chick wearing mom-jeans and nothing but a NY Knicks jersey up top.

When you're hurt and bleeding—or bandaged across the face—it always looks worse than it feels. So you play-up the jacked-up-good-guy angle and turn away the ambulance, realizing you can look cool and win sympathy. If I were Mr. McCollough, or he were paying me to think, I'd be thinking: "Why not tie down some good press and secure some cash for my troubles, without getting the law involved?"

People complain about celebrities running amok, but they want someone to get away with these shenanigans. The secret of the game is to make yourself the one that everyone's rooting for. Why not Jack the dandy at the expensive of Jack Bauer?

Borbay is a thinly-masked pen name of a guy works as Business Director for a digital advertising firm. His thoughts here do not reflect the thoughts, ideals, etc. of his employer. He also paints, plays hockey and is currently growing a nearly invisible handle bar mustache.

 
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6 Comments / Post a new comment

  1. resipsaloquacious [#111]

    Funny. A friend of mine also ran into Kiefer in an Irish bar in mid-town in the early aughts. Kiefer was shit-faced and friendly, buying rounds for various people at the bar. After chatting up my friend for awhile, Kiefer offers to give him the "best blow job of his life."

    Alas, Kiefer's puffery was not put to the test by my friend.

    That is all.

  2. RonMwangaguhunga [#242]

    Forget "Stand By Me," Keifer in "The Lost Boys" was one gnarly motherfucker. Granted, Keif chose to headbutt a fashion designer that's 100 pounds soaking wet and previosuly he tackled a Christmas tree, but do you really want to take the chance that K-Suth can't, on the right occasion, deliver a ferocious ass-whipping even though blind drunk?

    – Of the 80s Brat Pack I wouldn't mess with Keif, or that other vicious motherfucker James Spader:

    http://silverliningopticians.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/james-spader.jpg

    • hockeymom [#143]

      I still have fantasies involving James Spader in a pink polo shirt. He was the BEST bad boy of that decade. Bar none. (Matt Dillion was a close second, though).

      • RonMwangaguhunga [#242]

        Oh, absolutely. Spader spitting on the floor of his high school in disgust after an unfortunate altercation with Ducky in "Pretty in Pink" was an iconic 80s moment. Evil.

        That, and forcibly coercing Robert Downey, Jr. to pay down his smack debt by becoming a man-whore to preferred customers.

  3. Borbay [#677]

    @resipsaloquacious Fortunately, lacking the looks/charm likely prevented such an advance for yours truly.

    @RonMwangaguhunga I've never felt *the fear* in relation to Spader, however, you make a compelling point.

    @hockeymom Is it the pink shirt, or the pink shirt and crazy eyes combination?

  4. tesspantaz [#690]

    Borbay, what happened to McCullough is infinitely less entertaining that a run-in my ex had with Sutherland 10 years ago at a piano bar — with Woody Harrelson as peacemaker. Classic – will share over cocktails next time we meet up.

    T.

 

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