The Work That Made Me: Charlotte Adorjan
Charlotte Adorjan has over 25 years under her belt creating funny, evocative, or behaviour-changing campaigns for some of the world's biggest clients. She spent 17 years at AMV BBDO, where she won awards for copywriting and creative direction on work including the Met Police, Snickers, The National Lottery, and Cancer Research UK. Her recent anti racism film, ‘Dear White Parents,’ created to help white families talk to their children about race, won her a D&AD pencil for long form writing.
After moving to Melbourne from London, she joined the team at TABOO as ECD, where she helped win three pitches back to back in her first three months, including the prestigious Department for Transport and Planning (DTP) account.
She also carries a wealth of experience in the neurodiversity space with her personal side hustle, ‘Woodism’ – an art collective she shares with her husband and autistic son, which has pushed the needle in showcasing the creativity and value in autistic thinking. The work now lives in the permanent collection of the Victoria & Albert Museum, London.
LBB> The ad/music video from my childhood that stays with me…
Charlotte> I grew up with an art director father and a TV producer mother, so the walls of our home were crammed with beautiful art prints of dad's ads and signed photos of stars mum had recently shot with - actor and writer Ronnie Barker and his genius comedy being a particular fave. These were the days when art directors would go off with a photographer and shoot in exotic locations and create real, tangible prints, not WeTransfer files, and we often enjoyed the spoils of those trips.
Dad made lots of ads I loved, even winning a D&AD Black Pencil for his efforts, but it was his anti-smoking films starring John Cleese that have lingered long in my mind. Beautifully written, simple, just the right amount of wit.
LBB> The ad/music video/game/web platform that made me want to get into the industry…
Charlotte> Being surrounded by so much advertising and creativity growing up, I think it was written into my DNA to live out my days in adland, but I remember it was dad's words which finally persuaded me to go for it: "Look, whatever you do in life is up to you," he said, "but please, don't go into advertising."
Like all good daughters, it made me determined to do the exact opposite.
I think he was trying to protect me from a life of furrowed brows, staying up into the small hours, drink in hand, trying to crack briefs, never quite happy that you've nailed it. But I guess I inherited that need to constantly be thinking and creatively problem solving from him.
Plus, perhaps, a touch of his work-based alcoholism. But the year I went into the industry, Guinness Surfer came out and blew my fresh little mind and created a whole new level of 'holy shit, we can do THAT for a living?!' in my head. That's when I knew I was sold.
LBB> The creative work that I keep revisiting…
Charlotte> About 5 years ago, my husband and I created Woodism, an art collective making art prints of our autistic son Woody's words.
What started out as a little side project that helped us connect with our boy, blew up, with people from all over the world buying the prints. We were featured on BBC News and even won two D&AD pencils. My son is actually now the youngest recipient of a pencil, I think. Something he reckons it's "pointless" as "they don't even have real lead in them." Ha. We even have pieces admitted to the permanent collection of the V&A Museum, London.
It's been quite the ride, starting from our little dining table to where it is now. We regularly say we want to give it up as it's a real labour of love, but then we get beautiful messages about how a Woodism print has helped people see the value in neurodiverse thinking, and onwards we plough. Pretty soon, Woody will be a teenager and we know he'll hit a point when it's like "reeeallllyyy' emmmbarrassin'" having your parents telling the world all the gorgeous things you said as a little kid. At that point, we'll likely quit as he might sue us.
LBB> My first professional project…
Charlotte> The first 10 years of my career, I worked with my twin sister in a creative team. (See, our advertising DNA meant my parents literally spawned a creative duo.)
One of our very first ads was a film to encourage people to get smoke alarms. We couldn't believe our luck when Tom Carty, of Guinness Surfer fame, agreed to direct it, his first directing job I think. It was a hugely seminal moment watching him at work, holding fast to the integrity of the idea, the exquisite craft, the attention to detail. It was all completely spellbinding.
We got into the D&AD book with that very first ad and I remember thinking, 'Well this is piss easy! All my ads will be award winning and I will become rich and famous and live a life of a creative genius!' Ah the foolishness of youth...
LBB> The piece of work that made me so angry that I vowed to never make anything like *that*…
Charlotte> It's actually a piece of work which never saw the light of day from quite a few years back. And it's not the work, it was the process that still stings. My partner of the time and I had been working on a huge campaign for a big telecoms company. I'd not long gone back to work after having my second child so I was desperate to prove myself and juggling a lot.
We poured many hours into crafting that campaign. It was going to be great. I thought, somewhat naively, that if I could just make this idea then I would prove that a year away on mat leave had made me unstoppable, and that we could even go on and build our own agency off the back of it. It was that exciting and had been built up to be that huge a project.
Then, literally hours before sign off, the client told us they'd changed agencies behind our backs. The marketing boss' mate had poached the business from under our nose - even our day-to-day clients didn't know about it.
I remember when my boss told us we weren't making the work, he had actual tears in his eyes; rare back then when it wasn't cool to have emotions, let alone show them. He said he'd never had a client be so deeply cruel before. But I wasn't sad, I was fuming. All those hours away from my new baby and son, the blood, sweat, and tiny baby tears, all cemented a kind of realisation that I never wanted to be in that position again; letting arsehole clients treat creative work - and the people making it - as so disposable.
The good thing with anger is it drives you onwards with a renewed fire in your belly. It's almost definitely led me to the agency I'm at now. Absolutely no c*nts allowed, clients and colleagues alike.
LBB> The piece of work that still makes me jealous…
Charlotte> While I was working at AMV, a quiet, unassuming Brazilian team called Diego and Caio joined and took up a desk opposite mine. They were given the Bodyform brief and I remember thinking, 'rather them than me,' as female creatives historically, back in the day anyway, were always given what people called the 'shit, girl briefs' - namely period product campaigns.
I remember the guys working on it and muttering to each other in Portuguese with the odd English word thrown in like "blood" and "vaginas." Once in a while, they'd ask me what I thought of little sparks of ideas they were toying with.
Anyway, that brief turned into 'Viva La Vulva', one of the first period product ads that blew up the world and made every creative desperate to work on the 'shit' briefs again. It was awesome. I was green with jealousy - how dare a bunch of hairy-faced Brazilian guys come and take 'the girl' briefs and then make them good!
But importantly, it made me see there are opportunities everywhere and to never be snobby or rigid in what I deemed was a good or bad brief. It also shows what you can achieve when different brains are tasked with projects.
I still absolutely love that campaign. And those two guys. Devastatingly, Diego died recently. I now try and bring a touch of Diego into how I work and live and talk about him a lot to all my juniors to try to keep his brilliance alive.
LBB> The creative project that changed my career…
Charlotte> Just before the pandemic hit, I quit my secure, full time job in one of the world's best ad agencies and went freelance.
I was shitting myself. Everyone thought I was mad, people were biting off their left arms to get in and I was walking out. But I felt this huge calling to work on my own terms.
By now I had two autistic kids, a small simmering stress ulcer, and impending burnout. I started doing some freelance for a creative director friend, Cali, who said she'd throw me some briefs and we could work on stuff exactly how we wanted to - i.e. no huge internal approval processes, direct access to clients, management that trusted us to do our thing so didn't get too involved.
That's when we made the Bumble ad, still one of the most joyful projects of my career and the way I always try to work now. I got to write a funny script and work with Helena Bonham Carter (and Gillian Anderson on an earlier iteration of the film - a long story which I'm likely under an NDA for, so sadly can't spill). It felt like I was flying after having my wings clipped for so long. The gamble had paid off and I've tried to hold that ballsiness going forwards.
The Bumble job was also a masterclass in generating PR to boost the work. Bumble asked me to interview Helena after the shoot. When I asked her what her advice would be for women dating during the pandemic, she said, "Get yourself a weighted blanket and a vibrator and you're all set." The interview blew up, the film went viral, and Helena cemented her place as my ultimate fan girl crush. I now try and look for the PR angle in every brief, often long before I start to write.
LBB> The work that I’m proudest of…
Charlotte> I loved making the LOTTO campaign 'Please Not Them', getting stars like James Blunt, Katie Price, and Piers Morgan to take the piss out of themselves, and shooting with Jeff Low, the best comedy director out there. Having the freedom to write funny scripts and bringing the client along for the ride so we could do lots of ad-libbing on the shoot, made the work infinitely better.
Often they say if you're laughing on set, you'll be crying in the edit; implying the work is never as funny once you get it back home. But I don't think I've ever had so much fun on a shoot, or laughed as much, and weirdly I still like watching them back now. Just looking at something, in fact anything, that Jeff Low has helped create sets me off on a giggle, to be fair.
LBB> I was involved in this and it makes me cringe…
Charlotte> I once made an ad for OXO stock cubes with a rock band singing about shepherds pie. Getting the line 'Give me a portion of your mash n meat' onto daytime TV is still quite a thrill, even if that ad makes me cringe now.
LBB> The recent project I was involved in that excited me the most…
Charlotte> I don't know if an entire agency constitutes a 'project' but joining the crew at TABOO has been one helluva fun project so far. I love the agency's independence and ethos - 'Breaking bad rules for good reasons' - it appeals to my naughty side and need to break free after all the years working for holding companies. It took a lot for me to give up freelance, but going steady with TABOO has felt just as liberating.
I've joined after recently moving from London to Melbourne and it feels a bit bonkers to think I had to go to the other side of the world to feel truly at home in a place. We've got some fun stuff coming up, including building a tiny weatherboard 'safe house' for TAC (Transport Accident Commission in Victoria). I'm trying to craft every last detail. Just like the legends from my past would've done. I can't pin it on the wall like dad did, but building an actual real life home feels close enough.
