Five years ago, I stumbled headfirst into the world of advertising. A year out of college, young, impressionable and having a weird interpretation of the American Dream (but one that still involved material success), I took the job based on a gut feeling. I had no idea what I was being asked to do, or how my job fit into the machine that is the advertising industry (Mad Men hadn’t even premiered yet to make it all sexy and sexist), but I had a feeling I’d like it.
And I more than liked it, I loved it. And it loved me back.
But, as with anything I suppose, you can start to get jaded. I mean really, we’re in the business of selling people things they don’t need. And with that comes the reality that you’re not really changing the world. Not really making a difference (except possibly making people more materialistic). One of our favorite refrains when things start going off the rails is, “we’re not saving babies.” And it’s almost as self-congratulatory as Hollywood, with people always wanting a pat on the back for their mediocre ideas or design. One of my favorite quotes is this:
You have a masterpiece inside you, you know. One unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be. If you go to your grave without painting your masterpiece, it will not get painted. No one else can paint it. Only you.
And I’ve already figured out that my masterpiece is most likely not going to be my work in the field of advertising. So there’s not much else to do but shrug your shoulders and decide to milk it for all it’s worth, while you can.
As such, last night I went to another awards ceremony (the third I’ve been to in the three months I’ve been here, see what I mean about self-congratulatory?), where we all had fun (as evidenced here:)
Then we proceeded to a Dom Perignon party in a secret room at the Ivy where we had to know someone to get in (thankfully our host knew someone) and where we were treated to the drink of the evening by our host:
Then we proceeded to Hemmesphere Bar where we were treated to espresso martinis and more champagne. Is it possible to get tired of the taste of champagne? The princess in me says, “hell no!” but last night, I probably would have said yes.
When left to my own devices, I would be a homebody and a bit boring and solitary, so I suppose being in a very socially-oriented industry is a good thing. At least I’m having a fun while not changing the world.