By now, you’ve probably got sand in your shoes and inbox ghosts in your head. You’ve read a couple of these already; part detox, part provocation. Think Marketing Week meets The Beach, but with fewer cocktails and more existential questions about brand loyalty.
Here’s 5/8. Hardboiled detective noir meets cultural analysis. It’s a mystery: what killed originality? A jaded brand detective traces the clues - reruns, reboots, retro fonts - in a world where the new feels suspicious and the past is on loop.

Photo by Sindy Süßengut on Unsplash
It was 3:47 p.m. and raining on the brief. Again.
I’d been called in to find something new.
The client said the last three campaigns felt like reruns.
One was literally a reboot.
They wanted fresh. Original. Groundbreaking.
I lit a cigarette in my mind. That’s where it’s still legal.
My first lead?
The charts.
Netflix top 10: nothing but sequels, prequels, and properties older than most interns.
Spotify’s viral tracks? 90s bangers and ironic sea shanties.
TikTok trends? Nostalgia loops with VHS filters.
Originality was missing. But no one had reported it.
I went to see an old contact - Creative Director, five campaigns sober.
He was twitching over a Figma board.
“Clients don’t want new,” he hissed. “They want recognisable with a twist. It’s all comfort food now. Familiar beats. Safe bets.”
He was right.
In this climate - war, collapse, too many tabs open - people weren’t craving new ideas.
They were craving control.
Control felt like the past.
I dug deeper.
Studios were sitting on a mountain of unused IP.
Brands were relaunching heritage logos.
AI was training on archive footage.
The future was being built from spare parts of yesterday.
But then I found her.
Young planner. New on the scene.
She was running a black-market brainstorm in the back of a dive bar.
Real original ideas.
No moodboards. No precedent. Just guts and guesses.
I watched a junior pitch a campaign about a memory that never happened.
The room gasped.
It wasn’t nostalgic.
It was haunting.
That’s when it hit me.
We’d overdosed on nostalgia not because it was safe,
but because it was cheap.
It came pre-loaded with meaning.
You didn’t have to explain it.
Just cue the font, the tune, the reference.
But originality?
That takes effort.
Risk. Faith. Trust in the audience to catch up.
Back at HQ, I filed my report.
CASE CLOSED:
Originality isn’t dead.
It’s just underfunded.
It’s hiding in the weird corners, the uncomfortable truths, the unproven routes.
If you want it, you have to go off-map.
Ditch the frameworks.
Ignore the trend reports.
And listen to the people whispering things no one’s ready to hear.
The future isn’t a remix.
It’s a crime scene waiting to be disrupted.
To be continued…
Put your phone down. Stare up into the blue sky and think about how your brand might exist in a world where new is fine as long as you can show me a case study. Or just order a drink. You can always have a chat with The Liberty Guild when you get back. We can help your brand narrative end well…






