I'm on the Industry expert panel in this year's The Apprentice. (the one with that logo)
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Having been fortunate enough to live in a few different countries (including the USA and Australia), and having spent a lot of time in New Zealand (having a Kiwi wife), I often find myself in a conversation about what I’d miss most about Britain, living abroad. And the answer is simple. Our pubs. (Sorry Mum).
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Article by Jamie Williams, Managing Partner at isobel.
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Jamie Williams is a partner at London-based independent creative agency Isobel. Here, he asks, how can we connect young diverse talent with the agencies who crave it?
“How do you get into advertising?” I’ve heard this question a lot, but equally important questions to ask are “Why get into advertising?” or “Should I get into advertising?” So let’s start there.
Advertising and the wider creative industries are changing quicker than almost any other industry. There are so many
Guest Speaker at Social Media Week, September 2017
Interview on Canada's Global News, July 2017
Interview on Sky News, July 2017
isobel Summer School, with the Deputy Mayor of London, July 2017
Jamie Williams is an account partner at isobel
Gender equality is a hot topic within the advertising industry right now and this year Cannes is awarding its first Glass Lion for positive, progressive, and gender-aware communication.
Jamie Williams is the head of account management at Isobel
isobel thought Piece: The Independent Coffee Scene in London, January 2013
Anyone that enjoys a dose of caffeine in the morning will have noticed the radical transformation of London’s coffee scene over the last few years. Things started to change in the UK with the growth of chain coffee stores on our highstreets, which continue to go from strength to strength. Costa Coffee’s profits rose 38% last year, Starbuck’s were up by 18% and the UK coffee market is now worth £2b. But the most recent change has been the emergence of an independent coffee shop scene inLondon. Artisan coffee shops have become destinations rather than handy refuelling stops and in the middle of a recession, Londoners now seem prepared to pay up to £3.50 for a cup of the stuff. It’s interesting to look at how and why this scene emerged.
Antipodean coffee culture in Melbourne, Sydney and Auckland was already firmly established when a few guys from New Zealand tried to replicate the formula in Soho with the opening of Flat White in 2005. Before that point Monmouth Coffee had been the only real artisan café shop in town. Flat White soon had people queuing out their door for its namesake drink. A small community of coffee lovers in London grew very quickly, cafes like Fernandez and Wells on Beak St and Climpson and Sons on Broadway Market built on the Flat White formula, and roasting companies like Square Mile were soon offering the finest beans to cafes who wanted them. By 2010 the big brands were upping their game and Costa launched the flat white to the UK in a national ATL campaign. Independents now litter Soho and Shoreditch and are starting to pop up in residential areas across London.
London’s new coffee scene seems to have been created overnight, so a few different trends must have contributed to its creation and growth. The appreciation for higher quality, more crafted coffee and an interest in the variety and origin of beans fits nicely with the foodie revolution that’s transformed London’s eating culture. It seems obvious, but more and more people care how things are made, where things come from and most importantly, how they taste.
There seems to be a growing passion for hand crafted, small scale, high quality products across every category. If this can be done in a contemporary way, then it’s a winning combination. And independent coffee shops do seem to have nailed ‘modern craft’. Roasting brands like Nude, Allpress and Square Mile have invested well in their brand images. Their logos and packaging are simple and distinctive. They capture a youthful and creative tone of voice through their websites and social activities. And the cafes they serve, like Tina we Salute you in Dalston and Prufrock on Leather Lane, have websites, social activity, and product extensions that most creative agencies would be proud of.
The antipodean influence of London’s coffee scene can’t be understated. It certainly seems to have sparked everything off, and the continued influx of young Aussies and Kiwis into London has provided consumers looking for a taste of home, trained baristas who can provide it and entrepreneurs looking for opportunities.
And maybe quality coffee is a recession born luxury. Compared to restaurants and bars, the comparative cost of an experience you garner in a café is second to none. Sitting down and enjoying a finely crafted coffee must be one of the cheapest luxuries available in London.
So there you go. A whistle stop look into London’s Coffee scene. It’s an interesting culture that will surely only grow and spread throughout the UK (it’s already starting to). I do wonder if the increase in independent artisan coffee shops will increase or decrease the quality of the coffee they serve. Are there enough trained baristas around to work in them all? Regardless of that question, it’s clearly an industry that’s still got a lot of growth left in it. It’s interesting to see out-of-category brands like Green & Blacks, Popchips, Peppersmith, Teapigs, The Collective Dairy and alpro making an appearance at the annual London Coffee Festival (which is next held in April at the Truman Brewery).
Anyway, if you’re inspired and fancy a nice coffee this weekend, the below cafes certainly serve up some of the best in London:
Flat White, Berwick St, W1
The original antipodean coffee bar, and still one of the best
www.flatwhitecafe.com
Kaffeine, Great Tichfield Street, W1
Our local at isobel, and one of the best in London
www.kaffeine.co.uk
Prufrock, Leather Lane, EC1
Owned by a Brit, Gwilyn Davies, ex World Barista Champion no less
www.prufrockcoffee.com
Climpson & Sons, Broadway Market, E8
There are lots of great independent coffee shops in East London, but Climpson & Sons is hard to beat
www.webcoffeeshop.co.uk
Federation, Brixton Market, SW9
Small Kiwi owned Coffee shop that roast their own beans
www.federationcoffee.com
Anyone that enjoys a dose of caffeine in the morning will have noticed the radical transformation of London’s coffee scene over the last few years. Things started to change in the UK with the growth of chain coffee stores on our highstreets, which continue to go from strength to strength. Costa Coffee’s profits rose 38% last year, Starbuck’s were up by 18% and the UK coffee market is now worth £2b. But the most recent change has been the emergence of an independent coffee shop scene inLondon. Artisan coffee shops have become destinations rather than handy refuelling stops and in the middle of a recession, Londoners now seem prepared to pay up to £3.50 for a cup of the stuff. It’s interesting to look at how and why this scene emerged.
Antipodean coffee culture in Melbourne, Sydney and Auckland was already firmly established when a few guys from New Zealand tried to replicate the formula in Soho with the opening of Flat White in 2005. Before that point Monmouth Coffee had been the only real artisan café shop in town. Flat White soon had people queuing out their door for its namesake drink. A small community of coffee lovers in London grew very quickly, cafes like Fernandez and Wells on Beak St and Climpson and Sons on Broadway Market built on the Flat White formula, and roasting companies like Square Mile were soon offering the finest beans to cafes who wanted them. By 2010 the big brands were upping their game and Costa launched the flat white to the UK in a national ATL campaign. Independents now litter Soho and Shoreditch and are starting to pop up in residential areas across London.
London’s new coffee scene seems to have been created overnight, so a few different trends must have contributed to its creation and growth. The appreciation for higher quality, more crafted coffee and an interest in the variety and origin of beans fits nicely with the foodie revolution that’s transformed London’s eating culture. It seems obvious, but more and more people care how things are made, where things come from and most importantly, how they taste.
There seems to be a growing passion for hand crafted, small scale, high quality products across every category. If this can be done in a contemporary way, then it’s a winning combination. And independent coffee shops do seem to have nailed ‘modern craft’. Roasting brands like Nude, Allpress and Square Mile have invested well in their brand images. Their logos and packaging are simple and distinctive. They capture a youthful and creative tone of voice through their websites and social activities. And the cafes they serve, like Tina we Salute you in Dalston and Prufrock on Leather Lane, have websites, social activity, and product extensions that most creative agencies would be proud of.
The antipodean influence of London’s coffee scene can’t be understated. It certainly seems to have sparked everything off, and the continued influx of young Aussies and Kiwis into London has provided consumers looking for a taste of home, trained baristas who can provide it and entrepreneurs looking for opportunities.
And maybe quality coffee is a recession born luxury. Compared to restaurants and bars, the comparative cost of an experience you garner in a café is second to none. Sitting down and enjoying a finely crafted coffee must be one of the cheapest luxuries available in London.
So there you go. A whistle stop look into London’s Coffee scene. It’s an interesting culture that will surely only grow and spread throughout the UK (it’s already starting to). I do wonder if the increase in independent artisan coffee shops will increase or decrease the quality of the coffee they serve. Are there enough trained baristas around to work in them all? Regardless of that question, it’s clearly an industry that’s still got a lot of growth left in it. It’s interesting to see out-of-category brands like Green & Blacks, Popchips, Peppersmith, Teapigs, The Collective Dairy and alpro making an appearance at the annual London Coffee Festival (which is next held in April at the Truman Brewery).
Anyway, if you’re inspired and fancy a nice coffee this weekend, the below cafes certainly serve up some of the best in London:
Flat White, Berwick St, W1
The original antipodean coffee bar, and still one of the best
www.flatwhitecafe.com
Kaffeine, Great Tichfield Street, W1
Our local at isobel, and one of the best in London
www.kaffeine.co.uk
Prufrock, Leather Lane, EC1
Owned by a Brit, Gwilyn Davies, ex World Barista Champion no less
www.prufrockcoffee.com
Climpson & Sons, Broadway Market, E8
There are lots of great independent coffee shops in East London, but Climpson & Sons is hard to beat
www.webcoffeeshop.co.uk
Federation, Brixton Market, SW9
Small Kiwi owned Coffee shop that roast their own beans
www.federationcoffee.com
The Burmese smile, September 2011
I think you can learn a lot about a country's people from the air hostesses of that country's airlines. This does perhaps appear sexist, but I deliberately didn’t include air hosts in that statement. In my experience, the theory doesn’t work for the male variety. In fact, if you met airline hosts from a range of airlines around the world, their similarity is such that you may assume they were from the same country.
To explain: On US airlines, you always receive a big in your face welcome when you step onboard. German hostesses tend to be less concerned with the big welcome, but impeccable on timing, dinner serving structure and the all important pre-flight safety drills. On Air New Zealand, the service is less formal, but somehow fresh, cool and modern. British Airways tend to have the biggest inconsistencies – the best and the worst. Some are lovely motherly types who’ll find you an extra pillow or the last chocolate mousse onboard. But others don’t want to be there and make sure you know it. On Thai Air you are met with an amazing smile and a wai, which I think makes you feel both special and respected.
But the smile and welcome that you receive when you step on board any of Burma’s internal airlines is something very different. The best way that I can think of describing it is the kind of welcome and constant attention you might receive if you were the guest of honour at a Christmas party and the host had specifically instructed his five daughters to look after you. It’s as if you are a guest in their own home and they are absolutely thrilled that you have come to visit them. Of course, the point that I’m making is that the Burmese people are the friendliest that I have ever met.
To explain: On US airlines, you always receive a big in your face welcome when you step onboard. German hostesses tend to be less concerned with the big welcome, but impeccable on timing, dinner serving structure and the all important pre-flight safety drills. On Air New Zealand, the service is less formal, but somehow fresh, cool and modern. British Airways tend to have the biggest inconsistencies – the best and the worst. Some are lovely motherly types who’ll find you an extra pillow or the last chocolate mousse onboard. But others don’t want to be there and make sure you know it. On Thai Air you are met with an amazing smile and a wai, which I think makes you feel both special and respected.
But the smile and welcome that you receive when you step on board any of Burma’s internal airlines is something very different. The best way that I can think of describing it is the kind of welcome and constant attention you might receive if you were the guest of honour at a Christmas party and the host had specifically instructed his five daughters to look after you. It’s as if you are a guest in their own home and they are absolutely thrilled that you have come to visit them. Of course, the point that I’m making is that the Burmese people are the friendliest that I have ever met.
Solo Travel, Myanmar, August 2011
It took me three days to realise that solo travelling is an exaggeration of everyday living. New sights, the achievement of arriving, the chance of rewarding interactions and conversations, and essentially any moment of new experience feel like true success. Real contentment with your decision to make a solo trip. But likewise, the anticlimax or disappointment of a dank hotel room bathroom, a rainy day or a delayed flight cut through you like the world has ended. Solo experiences can be richer than shared ones, but they also possess the potential for far deeper levels of pain.
For me, the biggest challenge with travelling on your own is the evenings. Perhaps it’s the British in me, but when I’m away from home on my own time, the sun disappearing over the horizon goes hand in hand with an ice cold beer or a lime-fueled gin and tonic. Ideally, an hour or so of this pre-dinner ritual is followed by a shower, a change of clothes and then a sample of new and interesting local flavours over dinner. It’s the reward for a tiring exploratory day and it’s often the highlight. But for me, it only works as a shared experience. This reminder has given me a realisation of how we often disguise this fact in the West, by using the TV as eating company. Whilst fully aware that many people are not as fortunate as I am, having
an amazing person to share my life with, I still feel the joy and benefit of sitting down to eat at the end of each day, as a family, as friends, or as a couple, is not fully utilised. Eating and discovering new flavours on your own is like drinking a fine wine from a plastic cup. It tones everything down and results in an underwhelming experience.
I guess the ultimate question is how comfortable one is with their own company. I think my honest answer is not as comfortable as I perhaps thought. Having said this, solo travel gives you time. An incredible amount of it. The exchange of a busy working week in a London advertising agency for solo travel in Myanmar (Burma) is quite a transition in terms of time to ones self. At first it’s an odd sensation, similar to when your wife/partner/housemate is out for the evening without you. But then in becomes permanent, and instead of feeling slightly sorry for yourself in the down time, it gives you an opportunity to think, to consider, and perhaps to even write some thoughts down on paper. Which is exactly what I have decided to do.
For me, the biggest challenge with travelling on your own is the evenings. Perhaps it’s the British in me, but when I’m away from home on my own time, the sun disappearing over the horizon goes hand in hand with an ice cold beer or a lime-fueled gin and tonic. Ideally, an hour or so of this pre-dinner ritual is followed by a shower, a change of clothes and then a sample of new and interesting local flavours over dinner. It’s the reward for a tiring exploratory day and it’s often the highlight. But for me, it only works as a shared experience. This reminder has given me a realisation of how we often disguise this fact in the West, by using the TV as eating company. Whilst fully aware that many people are not as fortunate as I am, having
an amazing person to share my life with, I still feel the joy and benefit of sitting down to eat at the end of each day, as a family, as friends, or as a couple, is not fully utilised. Eating and discovering new flavours on your own is like drinking a fine wine from a plastic cup. It tones everything down and results in an underwhelming experience.
I guess the ultimate question is how comfortable one is with their own company. I think my honest answer is not as comfortable as I perhaps thought. Having said this, solo travel gives you time. An incredible amount of it. The exchange of a busy working week in a London advertising agency for solo travel in Myanmar (Burma) is quite a transition in terms of time to ones self. At first it’s an odd sensation, similar to when your wife/partner/housemate is out for the evening without you. But then in becomes permanent, and instead of feeling slightly sorry for yourself in the down time, it gives you an opportunity to think, to consider, and perhaps to even write some thoughts down on paper. Which is exactly what I have decided to do.
David Attenborough wannabe, Kenya, August 2010
A new camera, a love of wildlife documentaries and a safari honeymoon in Kenya are three good reasons to pretend you're David Attenborough. This is my go at it.
