One for all and all foursquare.

One for all and all foursquare.

November 9th, 2010 // 4:11 pm @ andy // 2 Comments

Hello there. Well, another week has passed and it’s time for another thatandywhiteblog post isn’t it? The thing is, I’m finding less and less to write about in this crazy old world of Advertising that we live in. I suppose I could go for some industry insider gossip or something but ‘The Drum‘ seems to pretty much have that covered. If you want to know who’s media spend is going where, which account exec has just jumped ship or which North West ( and Scotland ) Agency has just ‘restructured’ ( folded ), then that’s the place to go. If you want to know who’s hanging out where, why and with whom, then just take a peek at Twitter. Thanks to ‘foursquare‘ and such other meeja friendly iPhone apps, you’ll pretty much know which Northern Quarter bar will be packed to the gills with checked shirts, beards, shoulder bags, black-framed pseudo NHS glasses, avant-garde haircuts and ever so slightly too loud cries of recognition and slightly desperate bonhomie. I, for one, couldn’t live without foursquare. I haven’t got it of course but, by having a quick glance at Twitter, I can check on the whereabouts of those people who have and avoid those locations as I would the plague.

Twitter is also THE place to find out where the hip and happening events are taking place all across Manchester and beyond. There’s always a tweet or two from the movers and shakers, ( PR reps, ‘event’ companies and spouses thereof  ), squealing, ‘Totally in The Flouncing Ladyboy and it’s BANGING’ or ‘I’m ALL OVER a Manchester Egg in the totally vamped-out Pig and Herring, POW!’. So, if you want to be in the thick, ( and I do mean thick ), of the industry’s sweeties then you better get yourself there. In the interests of research, ( and the mistaken belief that there was a free bar ), a friend and I, ( Yes, I do have friends. Well ok, a friend ), decided to visit one such event last week. It was the launch of The North Pole Bar, a brand new bar in the shadow of the splendid Urbis building. Well, I say brand new bar. It was actually a bit like walking into a conservatory that had somehow been lifted from a garden in Prestbury and then had a Scout Hut nailed onto the back of it. My friend and I, as highly respected Manchester copywriters were, of course, VIP guests. Which means I’d had an email asking if I’d like to come and when I ticked YES I became a VIP. I’m still not sure what differentiated a VIP night from a commoners night though. I can only assume it was the free paper cup of mulled wine and the gaggle of bescarved and be-clipboarded people at the door taking names.

It was quite nice inside to be honest. There was a mock fireplace with tellies showing a roaring fire, nice sofas, arty white pretend moose, ( reindeer? ), heads on the walls and even a handy gibbet by the buffet for if it all got too much. In fact, it could have been lovely if they hadn’t let all those bloody awful people with checked shirts, beards, shoulder bags, black-framed pseudo NHS glasses, avant-garde haircuts and ever so slightly too loud cries of recognition and slightly desperate bonhomie in.

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