Of everything I've done, this is the one I want to tell my grandchildren about. It took a leap of faith for our client to let us make a game about poverty, but that leap paid off. We've helped over 5 million people around the world understand how impossibly hard it is to live on the edge of poverty.
I'll never forget the moment my partner and I came up with the first color chips spot, at a coffeeshop in Durham. What started out as a single cinema ad has become the client's flagship campaign, adding color to the reel of tons of McKinney's creatives.
It's always nice to work on a brand whose business promise you genuinely believe.
It's even better when you get to give that brand a bit more polish than they've had in the past.
Especially when that polish is made with two parts gorgeous visuals and one part Frances McDormand sass.
By far the most ridiculous thing I've ever worked on, Let's Have Txt was our Valentine's Day campaign for Virgin Mobile.
We celebrated their unlimited texting promotion with help from gallons of baby oil, tons of PG-13 sexual innuendo, and live operators texting 16 hrs/day for two weeks straight.
(Hopefully the freshness of the concept shines through the shitty resolution of the videos.)
The things homeless people need most are so basic most of us don't even think about what life would be like without them.
So we decided to give those things the star treatment they deserve.
The first pitch I ever worked on, the first pitch I ever won and my first real production. I remember the first shoot day, standing on set and watching Harris Savides work the spotlight, flabbergasted that all these people running around were there to make my little idea into reality.
I've done a lot of work I'm proud of, but this campaign will always be my first baby.
My first OOH campaign and it was a doozy: Dozens of distinct executions, covering most of NYC. We wrote love letters from Virgin Mobile to boroughs, neighborhoods, intersections, bike messengers, hot dog vendors, and even specific buildings. We pissed off some people, but that was part of the plan.
A 50-level game about Century Link's voice and data solutions that's nearly impossible to beat? My team said I was crazy. Until hundreds of thousands played it and tens of thousands made it all the way to the end.
How many times have you walked past a homeless person on the street with your eyes resolutely fixed forward, trying your best to pretend they're not there?
We dramatized that insight in an unexpected way. This campaign kicked off my work with UMD, the most meaningful of my career.
We got to invent, from scratch, an iPhone app for Gold's Gym members. It included the basics like a gym locator and class finder, but also all kinds of stuff the client never would have dreamed of, from a calorie equater that shows just how much pilates you'd need to burn off that pizza slice to a "flipbook yourself" feature that brings your weight loss progress to life.
How do you make Steelers fans lose their minds on Twitter? You take an old ceiling fan and a wooden hand holding their beloved Terrible Towel and you connect them so every #steelersnation hashtag gives it a spin. Oh and you do it six days before Super Bowl XLV.
Everyone got in on the towel twirling action (ed. note: In what other industry would I get to write that phrase in my resume? I love this business), from CNN to Deadspin to the head coach of the Steelers himself.
We invented the world's first long-distance photo booth. All the sweet nostalgia of an old-timey photo booth without the annoying requirement of being in the same place.
When Chatroulette first exploded, every brand wanted to find a way to be on it. We knew we had to be first.
Fortunately, our conveniently inanimate spokesperson could stay online for 24 hours a day, couldn't say anything stupid and wouldn't be bothered by a couple rogue penises.
Armed with a webcam and a sharpie, the Roaming Gnome went on Chatroulette and reminded people to get off their computers and out to see the world.
This was an interesting one: A brand I helped build from scratch. We developed the tagline, the look and feel, the product website, the packaging – the whole shebang. I even named the product colors.
(Pretty much the only thing I didn't do was wear the GoPro for the first-person virtual test-drive we built for the site.)
Name Your Tale was a super-fun experiment in micro-fiction. We invited visitors to the site to submit any title they'd like. We then turned select titles into 100-word pieces of fiction.
The site is long gone, but it remains my most beloved side project. I've included some of my favorite stories here. And hey, if you've got a title, send it my way. I'll send you back a story. Promise.
When I was pregnant, I wanted desperately for someone to tell me that I could be both a mother and a successful creative. Instead, I found dozens of articles bemoaning how impossible it was. So I launched Mama Needs a Big Idea. That way, when some future pregnant creative goes looking for someone who's been there, she'll find me.
A Twitter account detailing all the things that are sadder than things people on Twitter think nothing's sadder than.