'Consistency was always one of David's greatest attributes.'

To commemorate the 10th anniversary of David Ogilvy's death, (m)adman George Parker wrote this cockles-warming bit about his two experiences meeting him, and reflected on what the man stands for in the context of the industry.

I like this part:

He glared, snapped his red braces, (Well, I made that last bit up, 'cos it sounds like the kind of thing he would do) banged the table and shouted "Never forget, advertising is about selling".

Then he was escorted out of the room by the minders.

The legend of Ogilvy resonates because he possessed no misconceptions, no shame, about advertising's end goal: selling.

Not to say there isn't art to persuasion. Ogilvy built on that foundation with another oft-quoted anecdote: "The consumer isn't stupid, she's your wife."

Philosophy in application: Ogilvy on Advertising is a book he had published expressly to shill his agency. Despite the motivation -- or rather, because of it -- it contains some marvelously good stuff that remains applicable today. It's also beautifully written.

Way Better than 'Escapades'

"At first sight," wrote David Ogilvy in his autobiography, "the Amish give an impression of rather forbidding austerity, but I have never known people so addicted to high-jinks."

"Hijinks" is a great word.

You can attach it to any mundane task -- Sarah's trash-handling hijinks! Jessie's table-setting hijinks! -- and all of a sudden it's like monkeys did it.

Or you can use it alone, like Ogilvy did:

Last night, said Bill, hijinks happened. Hilarity ensued!

On Reprieve

When he was about 29 years old, Ogilvy visited Intercourse, an Amish town in Pennsylvania.

He fell in love with the people, the smell of fruit in the breeze and a community that followed its own course, no matter what the outside world insisted was the norm.

And it had outlasted many norms.

Following a few visits and the right real estate opportunity, Ogilvy and his wife moved in. He learned the quaint tongue, made friends and became a tobacco farmer. His retreat into the simpler life totaled almost 10 years.

One day, after realizing he was physically unfit for farm life, he decided to leave the place he loved and start an ad agency. He had $6000, a few "gentlemen with brains" on hand, and a list of the top five companies he eventually wanted to service.

With time he nailed them all, in addition to numerous Departments of Tourism and the most robust American brands then and now. One of his biggest regrets was turning down the business -- and partial ownership -- of a small copy company called Xerox.

Small change in a big jar.

Justifying an 'Unjustifiable' Profession

Left-wing economists, ever eager to snatch the scourge from the hand of God, hold that advertising tempts people to squander money on things they don't need. Who are these élitists to decide what you need? Do you need a dishwasher? Do you need a deodorant? Do you need a trip to Rome?

I feel no qualms of conscience about persuading you that you do.

What the Calvinistic dons don't seem to know is that buying things can be one of life's more innocent pleasures, whether you need them or not.

- David Ogilvy, Ogilvy on Advertising.