Peter Eaton’s

The Exhibitionist

Those who are familiar with central London will know that Earl’s Court is not only a stop on London’s underground and a district west of fashionable Kensington with a concentration of more temporary Australian bartenders than any other spot on the planet, it is also a Venue. For a couple of evenings it might host The Motor Show, or for couple of weeks the Boat Show, or any happening that needs a vast space. In this particular story we’re attending the International Electronics Show.

This particular client imported and manufactured and therefore advertised, you guessed it, widgets. A suitcase full of these tiny electronic devices have enough know-how to guide a man to the moon and back, but to look at them they all resemble a vast family of mechanical beetles. Which is bad news for the advertising people. (There is a similar situation in the ‘Miss Fanshawe’ story elsewhere in this collection of stories where a parity product was a tough sell.) However our client had tremendous faith in our expertise and creative imagination, which scared me to death on a daily basis. Our client Bob Anderson, CEO of Kent Electronics was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. The business relationship flowered into a lifelong personal friendship, which endures to this day. He was also a fun guy. He loved practical jokes.

One day Bob called me and announced that he was planning to take space at the forthcoming electronics show at Earl’s Court. “This is my first marketing experience in the form of exhibitions but I’ve been to many shows and know how awfully dull they can be. Mostly products pinned to boards of different colors with jazzy carpets seem to be all they can come up with. At least they have gorgeous girls at the Motor Show. I guess electronics isn’t a sexy business so no one tries, but I am optimistic. Peter, please think about it. I’ve booked a 40′ x 40′ corner of a block open on two sides. We’ve got 3 weeks. I can get you as many samples of our products as you could wish for. You know from our advertising what we stand for, so let’s have something that is memorable and you’ll be proud of.”

As it turned out, ‘memorable’ was the classic understatement of the century and as far as being proud of my work, once that got me into trouble. I designed a stand for a French company for a military show in Wiesbaden, Germany. The stand was constructed in Paris and I went over to Wiesbaden on the truck to make sure it was erected correctly. Late in the afternoon when all the workers had departed and even the client had loped off to his hotel, I was admiring my work and started taking photographs of the construction. Before I knew it I was arrested by the German police and dragged off to jail. I couldn’t speak a word of German and they were pretending they didn’t understand me. Apparently tanks and super-sensitive classified gear surrounded my little stand. They thought I was a spy. My client rescued me several hours later. Not a particularly pleasant memory.

Having learnt the ropes during many years of designing stands all over the world it was refreshing to have a client who actually wanted my suggestions. One thing that most people experience during a large trade show is a burning desire to sit down after schlepping around for hours and normally there is no provision for this. So I suggested this idea. Kent Electronics had expanded quite substantially and their executive offices could benefit from some new really comfortable chairs. I suggested they should have their debut at the show. I was going to suggest renting some nice seating anyway but when I discovered that the cost of renting chairs was half the cost of the purchase price I bought everything.

In the space that Bob booked we could probably manage to fit twenty-five nice chairs in the area. But what we needed was a way to capture the attention of these customers, or prospects, so I suggested a huge curved wall, which almost cut off the stand from the aisles. It would not impede access but it would certainly create a semi-private area where Kent people could invite whoever they wished. On the outside wall we would have a contiguous list of everything that Kent Electronics could offer to the world. As it turned out even with large type when we had reached three-quarters we had literally run out of products.

“Let’s have some amusement, Bob.” I suggested, ” Let’s make up the names of fictitious products.” The result was hilarious with words like ‘needlegum’ punctures ‘pipelstramuirs’, ‘offside rummelgudgeons’. Not only did Bob think the idea was creative he thought it was extremely amusing. Unfortunately it never happened, because something happened that changed my plans totally.

The actual marketing part of my scheme revolved around the mechanical bugs. I designed fifteen rather beautiful but oversized coffee tables with a glass shelf that could be easily removed and which would house the products, specifications, test matrixes and just about anything you needed. The idea here was that the captive audience now comfortably seated being served complimentary drinks could spend time with the reading materials available or chat to a salesperson or use a complimentary telephone.

Then the back of the giant wall would serve as a screen upon which I would be projecting a continuous fifteen minute loop of the company history and profile, executive staff and giant enlargements of the beetles. Bob was delighted with everything. As an invitation to Bob’s ‘inner sanctum,’ which we hoped would have a party feel, we sent a postcard to 5,000 visitors to the show. The headline boldly stated, “Come see Bob Anderson make an exhibition of himself.” We had no idea how prophetic that could have been.

We decided to keep this concept under wraps so the chairs were ordered and delivered to the company’s works. Our stand construction guys were painting the huge wall and I was merrily putting together the film in my studio.

The show opened on a Monday morning. The Sunday night before, I dropped by the various places where the stand was being prepared and actually went to our 40′ x 40′ square of carpet in Earl’s Court. As the show was being built up it was an extremely busy sight, which left our empty patch looking naked and vulnerable. I made one more phone call to the works for reassurance. Everything was being loaded on the truck as we spoke they told me.

Up to that moment in time I had never had a flat tire. Of all mornings, in the pouring rain I should have my one and only. I didn’t have any repair tools, not that I would have had the foggiest notion what to do with them, so I pushed the car on to the hard shoulder, left a note on the windshield and stuck my thumb out. I arrived at 9am, one hour before the masses would swarm in. I walked across to our stand, which had a great location and stared bleakly at a 40′ x 40′ carpet and a telephone. It was one of those moments when I really though I would lose my mind. I called the works. No answer. I wanted to find the proverbial hole and climb in. People walking by from other stands were most sarcastic. “No, I really like it. It’s different.”

I had one hour to do something and it was Bob Anderson’s temperament that gave me a clue of what to do.

So it came to pass that at 10 after 10am, in strode my client. “I say,” smiled Bob, “this is a bit of a turn up. Any idea what happened?” I told him everything I knew and everything I didn’t know but I explained to him that I’d been thinking how we might make some hay from this disaster. I fished out of my pocket a couple of postcards that I had been given by a neighboring stand and the use of a typewriter. The cards said briefly that Kent Electronics were experiencing some technical problems. “Oh I see.” interrupted Bob, “we’ll get these blown up massively big”– “No, Bob please read on.” The message continued: In the meantime why not join us in Suite 220 directly opposite in The Royal Garden Hotel for refreshments and some fun.

Bob read it three times. “Wow, that’s a hell of an idea. Can we do it?” I replied that all of the ideas I had were now set up. All he had to do was say ‘yes.’

“There’s more?” He was loving this. “I think we’ll pin these postcards up on the stand, one on each wall,”

And I said “watch what happens.” Almost immediately there was a crowd.

“Right, the next thing I did was send your sales people over to the hotel to get the catering and drinks organized.” Bob got to clapping his hands with pleasure.

I followed this with: “Now Bob, in the best advertising parlance—and there’s more! I have rented a table tennis table from the hotel, bats and ping-pong balls.” “Oh for a customer to amuse themselves,” suggested Bob. “No, not a bad guess, Bob, but you know Julie from the accounting department and Lisa from traffic? What do they have in common besides being well endowed?” “They are our table tennis teams best players,” yelled Bob, “yes, and they are on their way with their playing gear and I told them that bras were optional. “Anything else before I have a heart attack?” chortled Bob. “Yep, two Polaroid cameras,” I said mysteriously. With a mock serious face he said, “OK you got me on that one, why Peter, would we want two Polaroid cameras?” I took a deep breath and with gesturing hands said: “OK Bob, last surprise. I hired two Penthouse pets and the idea is that when people arrive, one pet will give the visitor a hug while the other one takes a Polaroid so the salesperson or engineer has some evidence of fun he had at the Anderson booth.

That’s why.”

I didn’t quite anticipate what happened next. As the day and evening wore on the pets became much more adventurous and the customers became more frisky and some of the Polaroids now only being taken in the bathroom were sensational.

What actually happened with the truck was that it managed coincidentally to get a flat in the rain and arrived at Earl’s Court too late to make a delivery and was sent home.

Bob was dazzled by the wonderful time he and everyone had. Essentially, a boring trade show, turned into a carnival. Bob did so much business that the chairs never made it to the show and the party rolled on for four days.

A headline in the ‘Electronics Weekly’ later subtly described the event with an old Chinese saying: ‘catastrophy brings opportunity.’

I think we say ‘out of the ashes rise a phoenix.”

I think if I hadn’t pulled that stunt off my ashes would have been distributed across the lenght and breadth of Earl’s Court.