A lifestyle magazine's billboard campaign puts one over on L.A.'s commuters
by JACK BOULWARE
"Topless Traffic School," announces the billboard above a busy Los Angeles thoroughfare, accompanied by a photo of a well-proportioned woman in a skimpy bikini. "A clean record is only a lap dance away. Tipping accepted." California being the nation's capital of goofiness, many residents don't pay this message much attention, particularly in Los Angeles, where billboards are a necessary part of the landscape -- consumption-driven rectangles preying on the hapless traffic-bound commuter. Sure, it seems a little weird, but so what if there's a topless traffic school? There's a Heidi Fleiss pajama store, isn't there? This is just further evidence of the decline, our worst fears once again confirmed. To paraphrase Voltaire, if there weren't a topless traffic school, it would probably be necessary for L.A. to invent one, just to live up to its long-standing reputation for leisure-as-lifestyle.
But a few miles west, a driver will spot another peculiar billboard, this one advertising something called the Gleiberman Colonic Treatment Center. "Hi-colonics . . . in the comfort of your own car," reads the straight-faced copy. "New drive-thru technology! Drive your colon clean!" The feel is that of a typical cosmetic surgery huckster's pitch, utilizing a soft-focus image of an embracing young couple leaning against a car, with a smaller inset shot of a Dr. Gleiberman in suit and tie. Again, colonics are pretty popular in L.A., as are automobiles, but a sharper pair of eyes notes that on both billboards, the same phone number is listed.
That phone line is actually connected to an answering machine at the offices of Buzz, a glossy Los Angeles lifestyle magazine known primarily for its face-of-the-month celebrity covers, upscale restaurant ads and a bejeweled editorial tone that certain citizens might even consider "sassy." In preparing to launch a large direct mail subscription campaign, Buzz has hired an ad agency, Deutsch, to drum up interest in their publication and create, as they say in the ad biz, a little "brand awareness." According to Buzz marketing director Jenny Isaacson, their frisky little scheme is working just fine. The billboard answering machine has been filled to capacity each day with callers, who listen to a message explaining that the entire campaign is a hoax, and thanks callers for playing their little game. Suffice it to say that Los Angeles is talking, and this time it's about something other than pilot season.
On June 24th, 11 bogus billboards abruptly materialized on the streets of L.A., advertising various strange businesses -- from the above-mentioned enterprises to an exclusive Beverly Hills Shopping Club and a program to ship unproduced screenplays to Balkan countries. Two weeks later, radio ads began running, pitching similar fictitious companies. After sufficient time had passed, a bold red snipe suddenly appeared on each billboard that read: "Just testing -- Buzz magazine, L.A.'s monthly reality check." And 45 seconds into the 60-second radio spots was heard the message: "If that had been reality, you would have read about it in Buzz magazine." Joke's on you, L.A. Just fill out that subscription card, and you'll no longer be out of the loop.
According to Isaacson, only a few people were seriously offended by the campaign, including one confused woman who was disappointed she couldn't actually dump her screenplay on an impoverished country. America's entertainment loss might have been, well, the Balkans' entertainment loss. An irate DMV representative also kept calling Buzz offices, begging management to remove the Topless Traffic School billboard as soon as possible, because they were getting complaints from other traffic schools who felt they were getting shafted by not enjoying equal advertising time.
As the spots leave the airwaves and the billboards come down, Isaacson proclaims the campaign a complete success, using the obvious pun: "We wanted to spend a bit of money and create a buzz," she said. Sounds like they did. Now if the magazine was as clever as it's ad agency's creative department, it might be onto something.
Jack Boulware is a columnist for the San Francisco Weekly.