Farewell to Mad Men

By The Denver Egotist / /

“Advertising is built on puffery, and, at heart, deception, and I don’t think anybody can go proudly into the next world with a career built on deception, no matter how well they do it.”

–Julian Koenig, (writer on Volkswagen’s 1959 “Think Small,” campaign) in an interview by his daughter Sarah on This American Life, 2009

People outside of the business often ask if Mad Men truly depicts what advertising was like in the 60s.

Not exactly.

Mad Men truly depicts what advertising is like today.

In a business fabricated out of lies, and fueled by fables, Mad Men has always been a show built on truth.

No matter how painful, ugly, complicated, twisted, heartfelt or heartbreaking, Mad Men has always seen through our facades. It told the truth about this business — and about each one of us. Such deep truths, in fact, that it has always cut close to the bone. Too close, more often than not. It let us know, season after season, that as much as each of us would like to believe we are all original or talented, or irreplaceable, we are just some representation of our respective characters; an archetype; a well-worded write up sent to some casting director in LA:

Female, 30’s or 40’s but can pass for younger, slim, athletic build, dark hair, light eyes, mysteriously ethnic, nice skin, warm smile, pretty, (but attainable), that “Every Mom” feel, but still looks unique.

In this business, we are all actors playing our roles, reading our monologues, laughing on cue. The Witty Drunk, the Philandering Creative Director. Struggling Female Writers, Misunderstood Media Byers, The Pot-Smoking Art Directors, Ambitious Secretaries, Bespectacled British Planners and Weird But Wise White-Haired Partners. Here, we are all a character. And Don, Peggy, Roger and Joan all know us intimately; our lines, our loves, our lives. They know us because they are us.

“In Greek, ‘Nostalgia’ literally means ‘the pain from on old wound.’ It’s a twinge in your heart more powerful than memory alone.”
–Don Draper, Season One

Mad Men knew all our secrets, and it gleefully spilled each and every one of them. It was like watching the story of your life, complete with spoiler alerts; it was your drunk best friend, blabbing in the bathroom while sloppily reapplying lipstick. Mad Men was a carnival fortune teller, slowly revealing each of our fates as we waited holding our breath. What would the turn of each card reveal? Would we end up promoted, lonely, married, divorced, successful, freelancing, pregnant, secretly smoking at lunch in the alley, barfing in a water fountain, sleeping with our boss, remarried, quitting, getting fired, working for the competition, going client side, day drinking too much, caring too little, forgotten, forgiven, introspective, dead?

Mad Men knew affairs, our drug habits, our abortions. It ran on our lies, our weaknesses; celebrated our joys, and rubbed our nosed in every disappointment. It saw inside our marriages, pulled the covers off our beds, picked the locks on our office doors, and rifled through our desk drawers. It knew about the unrequited crush on our first Creative Director, and our disastrous fling with the Head of Accounts. It’s seen us throw up in a conference room wastebasket and do lines in the mailroom. It knows what we secretly Xerox after hours and how much we’re not saving for retirement. It knows which ideas weren’t really ours, and why we’ll never speak to our first partner again. It knows why we don’t come into the office in the morning and why we don’t go home at night.

“The truth is people may see things differently, but they don’t really want to.”
–Don Draper, Season Three

Just like Peggy and Don watched the moon landing from some hotel room in another city, I remember driving to pick up an old partner at home a dozen years ago only to find him staring at the TV, tears streaming down his face as the Twin Towers crashed down in flames and smoke and screams of terror. The truth is that these people around you, as flawed and terrible and talented as they are, these are the people to whom all of life’s greatest moments are linked. By luck or coincidence or fate or will, these are the people with whom your life in inexorably intertwined.

“I want to tell you something because you’re very dear to me and I hope you understand it comes from the bottom of my damaged, damaged heart.”
–Roger Sterling, Season One

Mad Men knew what was true:
Learn from the greats.
Drink with the crazies.
Save yourself, because no one else will.
Remember who loves you.
Get out while you can.

Farewell, Mad Men. Farewell to the agency that is our agency, to these enduring characters that are us. Farewell to a show whose words may be the truest thing any of us will ever hear in this business. With your passing, we will cease to know this business as well, each other as personally, and ourselves as deeply. Farewell, Mad Men. You shed a light on all of our dark souls, and for that we are grateful.

During the course of her 19 years in advertising, Anne Macomber has proven that she can direct people, projects and ideas, having held the positions of copywriter, research director, art director, marketing director, film director and now creative director.

Comments

  1. Anonymous September 1, 2015

    Even in the description of
    Even in the description of all the different ‘character types’ they left out the video people… we’re always left out. So here’s to the Often Forgotten Editors and Motion Graphics people who put all the rest of your shit together as a final product. The ones whom you would often fail without.

  2. Anonymous September 22, 2015

    I couldn’t watch the show. It
    I couldn’t watch the show. It was my ground hog’s day movie.

  3. Anonymous November 8, 2015

    I love this and whole
    I love this and whole heartedly agree with you.

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