No, it’s not as racy as the title would suggest. With the recent passing of Steve Jobs, I realized that the walls of my childhood bedroom were plastered with the things I found alluring in grade school: advertisements. I don’t know what magazines I ripped the ads from–likely an assortment of my dad’s Newsweek and my mom’s Good Housekeeping.
One wall was milk ads, and while I cherished those mustaches, nothing could compete with my small collection of Apple ads. Did I know anything about Apple? No, my dad worked at Gateway. Did I know the cultural significance of the “Think Different” campaign? Hell no, I couldn’t think different at 12 years. Did my friends like Apple? No. But those black and white ads resonated with me in a way I couldn’t understand.
It’s funny that something I found so cool would later run my life. Without advertising, magazines don’t stand much of a chance at success. It’s something we struggle with literally every day.
And those Apple ads are still influencing me today. Jane Goodall’s ad went to college with me–I’d dreamed of working with animals for so long (only to find I suck at science, specifically chemistry) that it was hard to give up. I collect black and white ads from every magazine before it’s thrown away (thank you GQ, Vanity Fair, and Vogue). Even the “headboard” to my bed is a wall of–you guessed it–framed black and white ads.