Loeries Awards

If advertising was a disco, the Loeries would be its mirror-ball. Good Hope center never looked so good. We arrive to a mass of lights and crews and cables and cameras and generators and Jupiter flags and interviews and red carpets. Elvis swoons on a 30 foot wall of pixels. Subtle. I get that. They’re managing my expectations. Now I’m excited. Mavericks dancers burst out legs and line-ups followed by a dose of FIFA bashing from our most loved Helen Zille. Crazy Dwayne arrives from green skinny-jean land. The top creative brains in the country are furiously trying to figure out exactly what he’s wearing and how he got through security. Is he really the Ayoba guy? “Mixed media mixing the twitter all up on your Facebook”. Changing clothes between every act keeps the crowd guessing. “Ikki something from Woolworth’s to present the Grand Prix”. The crowd gets restless but Roger Goode soothes the pulse. Show Dem pops out of nowhere but fails to make the circle any bigger. By now parched throats are pleading sweet mercy god above deliver relief aid in the form of ice cold Heineken or three from the promo bar.

So much talent I’ve never seen before. And not just the work. They must be from Joburg. Most fit the same ad exec age bracket but every now and then a face pops up that says “Advertising party! Never say die!”.