the map village street editors

I’m all up for guerrilla marketing – the use of unconventional marketing tactics intended to get maximum results with minimal resources. I think it’s a cheeky, creative and clever marketing alternative for independent designers, artists, clothing labels and other small businesses who need to get known on the street but don’t have the cash to throw at outrageous marketing and advertising campaigns.

For example, I love the guerrilla marketing story in Dumbo Feather magazine about Australian fashion label, Tight Knickers. They sneakily captured the attention of Sydney Fashion Week’s ‘front rowers’ who were on a ferry heading for a secret location at a Sydney wharf. The Tight Knickers crew employed an actor, dressed in a Magritte outfit complete with bowler hat and briefcase, to intercept the ferry’s arrival at the docks and entertain the VIP passengers with a projection show while they waited 10 minutes to disembark. The show included quirky messages from fashion week, interspersed with Tight Knickers branding quotes such as, “Are you wearing Tight Knickers or are you just happy to see me?” Captive audience; cute stunt to get their fashion label in front of bigwigs they wouldn’t usually get near; and nobody got hurt. Big guerrilla tick!
But what happens when big name brands like Vodafone and Nike jump on the guerrilla marketing bandwagon with great gusto - faces blackened, combat pants adorned and penlight torches flashing. While armed with bulging marketing budgets, these companies slyly take to streets, air spaces and human bodies to unashamedly splash their brand around the globe at little or no cost. Think of the stunts that saw Nike and Vodafone logos shaved into the backs of people’s heads.

The latest guerrilla marketing tactic to make your own judgement about is being instigated by an Australian company, Passout Marketing, who is buying the rights to stamp logos on hands and wrists of clubbers in a majority of Australian nightspots. They currently stamp 2.5 million people per year, with venues given a cut of the advertising revenues. So next time you visit a club, you might need to consider whether you want to promote a new flavour of crisps or lolly water on your skin for days to come. I wonder what would happen if you didn’t support the philosophies of the sponsor logo. Could you ask for the good old ‘smiley face’ stamp instead?