Everything was going so well under Lucille Lightfoot's direction to turn around the Australian fashion magazine that had become a loss-making publication.
The first issue of the restyled and substantially upgraded
Fashion Up
was underway and the second in the planning stages.
A 16-page mock-up of 'the dynamic new look' had gone out to advertising agencies but as expected the agency executives were saying "Good... great... promising" but the business response from most of them was along the lines of, "We'll talk it over with targeted clients in due course."
When the director of the group's director of advertising announced triumphantly at the magazine's pre-production meeting, they'd attracted two new advertisers, one taking two pages the second a four-page spread, Lucille's heart sank.
That 6-page gain of new contract advertising was offset by the loss of fourteen pages pulled by nervous clients who knew that when a rejig was necessary, something was up.
When the meeting was over Lucille disappeared on a mission. She knew the next issue of the advertising industry's
Ad-World
, a 20-page plus publication distributed monthly to advertising agencies and sold to other interested parties taking out a subscription was due out the following week.
The publisher rather liked Lucille's suggestion and met Lucille on a harbor sightseeing cruise accompanied by a writer and photographer and the outcome of that provided material from Lucille for a scathing contribution based on the suggested heading of 'The Lazy Agents are Dingoes'.
"Thank you for our lead story," smiled Lacey, saying they really must get together for a Friday night drink.
The next Monday Digger came to Lucille with the latest copy of
Ad-World
in his hand, tossing it angrily in front of Lucille.
"Are you trying to ruin us - ad agencies will now be treating us with contempt and their clients who hear about this will want to know what's going on."
"I'm sorry Digger but I'm amid something really hot; I'll talk to you later," Lucille said.
She picked up the phone on the second ring and asked the caller to hold and she turned to Digger and said, "It's a radio station - the news media has gone bananas over my swipe of admen who they regard as 'The Fat Cats of Advertising'."
Digger raced to his office, yelling to Mo to join him. He changed stations until hearing the name Lucille; with sinking heart he sat back to listen to the 'Talkback Radio' broadcast.
'Lucille what does you company chief think about you ripping into these people commonly referred to as the fat cats of advertising?'
'He really didn't say Mary. He scampered to the bathroom, to vomit I suspect.'
Digger groaned and Mo, leaning forward in her chair told him to shut up, that obviously Lucille's article had pulled a trigger.
'This is Ernie Duggan calling Lucille. Have you something against dingoes?'
'No Ernie, not at all; neither and I'm not against advertising agents per se. In that article I simply aimed at the lazy dingoes that won't galvanize themselves to put new opportunities under the nose of clients. I would emphasize, however, a few advertising agencies perform that role with fidelity and that's great. I was simply talking about those developing a fat ass. I didn't realize I'd be upsetting True Blue Aussies by maligning the name Dingo in this way.'
'You'll all right Yank. Think like that and I'll drink with you any day.'
'We'd first need a formal introduction Ernie. I'm a fashion magazine consultant, not a hooker.'
He chuckled.
'That's a good one Lucille.'
'Lucille it's Bob Johansson the talk-back host for this session again. What are the agencies saying to you about this new initiative by your magazine?'
'Nothing - absolutely nothing. The shutters have gone up I guess, though I hoped this wouldn't be the reaction. I wanted to drag them out of their foxholes and into the modern age of communication.'
'Ah and so was now have foxes as well as dingoes - just a minute, my assistant is waving frantically. We may have our first ad agency calling in.'
'Good morning Lucille. It's Bob Song speaking. Welcome to Australia. I'm just back kicking ass, motivating my personnel to hit clients today to look at this magazine you're working on. We Aussies like battlers and admiration can result in counter-punching as conversely evoke sympathetic action.'
'I admit to being interested in you when I read that feature about you in last Saturday's newspaper and remained on my skinny backside after that without giving another thought about that rather dynamic interview until I read your kick-ass interview today.'
'Lucille I head Rider, Young and Jakka Worldwide in Australia and I'm junior vice-president of the Australian Advertising Association. You won't receive a better deal from RYJ Worldwide than your deserve, but your publication will get from us the consideration it deserves. I'm on Channel 7 tonight at 7:00 live to rip you to bits on behalf of my profession. Perhaps we can have a drink afterwards - I'll be formerly introduced to you by then. Have a nice day Miss America.'
'This is Bob Johansson the radio host speaking Lucille. Would you accepted an invitation to appear on TV tonight if they contact you?'
'I know nothing about it Bob but obviously you will have registered I'm not the shy type.'
'Then terminate with us now and stay off the phone till you get the call from the TV station love. We'll all be watching you tonight going head-to-head; we'll be interested to see if you measure up to the status of being a Little Aussie Battler Status.'
'Thanks for the opportunity Bob; you run a great show.'
There was dead silence in the managing director's office until Mo demanded, "Well?"
"Channel 7, peak time. She's our million dollar sweetie; you just can't buy that time."
"Don't be so unfeeling Digger, go to her and congratulate her. If you had shouted at her don't mention it; she'll be riding on a high so don't remind her about you being a louse."
Channel 7 ran half-page advertisements in later editions that day of the two Sydney newspapers to supplement its own station promotions - 'Feisty Fashion Femme Calls Ad-people Dingoes and 7:00 tonight she faces off in a TV Special with Ad Mogul' screamed the promo.
Lucille was permitted to be accompanied by one person. To Digger's dismay she chose Mo over him.
"I need the calmness of a female in support," she apologized at the scowling Digger.
Mo poked her tongue at him, making her brother grin.
* * *
Mo said as she walked into studio make-up with Lucille, "I'll help turn you into a fashion queen. I'm amazed that you have dressed in black. I thought for sure you'd be in bright red."
"I want the intellectual look Mo and will wear the thick-framed glasses I use for reading in poor bedside lighting and I'm having my hair plastered against my skull."
"Oh dear, do you think that's wise?"
"My plan is to look like the underdog though with a suggestion there is something about me that will bite. Viewers will tend to want me to win the debate over the expensive-suited smooth fat cat and viewers will include potential advertisers who just may think they'd also like to support our magazine to help them sell product."
Lucille was expecting to be up against a curly-headed 6ft 6in blond Australian, built like a surfer and with a smile capable of breaking hearts modeled on the image agencies love to use so deceptively.
Instead a bouncy balding man in his late forties darted up to her and said, "Hi Lucille, I'm Bob Song, head of RYJ Worldwide in Australia; just answer my challenges demurely and there won't be blood on the floor - your blood."
"My colleagues say they have no wish to have you discredited because in appearance your image is great for our industry but I'm rather puzzled why you are looking so conservative in appearance this evening?"
"Hi Bob. Are you attempting to unsettle me you naughty boy."
Bob looked startled.
"No of course not. We run a democratic body and our members are encouraged to espouse their views."
"Oh that relieves me. I was advised to expect dirty tricks. I would much rather debate at an intellectual level."
"Debate - I don't think you understand, Lucille. This is your opportunity to apologize to our enraged members in front of the entire nation."
"Save your breath Bob. How's Veronica? Don't look so surprised - Veronica is your wife."
"Um."
"You naughty boy Bob. Fight cleanly and there's no need for me to work-in the fact that you've run off from your wife."
"You wouldn't dare."