8851: Sex In Advertising (Agencies).

Adweek continues to push the boundaries of stupidity with irrelevant content compounded by bad writing. The latest indicator of the trade publication’s devolution is Affairs to Remember by Hephzibah Anderson. Inspired by the recent Arnold Schwarzenegger exposé, the writer delivered a fuzzy and contrived perspective on adultery, lust and politics—as sensationalized by an overly inquisitive media and nosy public.

Not sure why Adweek would think this pap might interest anyone. It resembles the rough draft of a stand-up comedy routine. For a really awful stand-up comic.

If Adweek wants to pursue this kind of bullshit, the editorial board should at least put an industry-relevant spin on things. Granted, that would require identifying writers with industry-relevant experience, which appears to be a challenge for the publication.

Regardless, the advertising industry has plenty of scandalous dirt to sift through that rivals anything in the gossip tabloids. The only difference is the players don’t enjoy the rock star status of, well, rock stars—despite the insistence of delusional narcissists who believe adpeople are rock stars. As a result, the sexual antics on Madison Avenue feel amateurish, like homemade porn versus the adult entertainment videos expelled from the San Fernando Valley area.

Forget the cartoonish adulterers and deviants fictitiously portrayed in Mad Men. That stuff is too glamorous and overly art directed. The advertising industry features clumsy spectacles such as the Julie Roehm-Draftfcb-Walmart fiasco, Steve Biegel-Dentsu-foreign brothel debacle and BBDO camera phone cubicle coitus. Sure, these types of stories receive press coverage and/or go viral, but there’s much more obscene shit taking place regularly in the hallways of typical agencies—mostly on the C-Suite level.

White men with power tend to dominate the sex shows on Madison Avenue. It’s unlikely, for example, that Donny Deutsch started banging other men’s wives upon becoming a CNBC celebrity. No, that behavior probably began on agency conference tables or in fancy hotels during commercial productions. Being a sugar daddy is easier when operating with a generous client-funded per diem.

Tales of married SVP account directors and creative directors impregnating administrative assistants are becoming less common, but only because agencies are doing away with administrative assistants. Instead, admen view junior account people and summer interns as their personal harem.

Nearly everyone who has worked in a major agency is familiar with at least one receptionist who turned out to be a high-end escort. Um, how do you think these women made the initial job connection?

How much agency cash is burned away annually for settlements involving sexual harassment charges against award-winning creative directors?

How many agency presidents have been reassigned out of the day-to-day functions—usually in the guise of a “promotion”—because of sexual misconduct?

Come to think of it, how many promotions are based on sex performance versus job performance?

Big agencies send off mistresses with wads of hush money when executives’ spouses uncover illicit shenanigans.

Heard of Hollywood casting couches? Similar furniture encounters happen on Madison Avenue, except between creative directors and SAG talent desperately seeking a bite-and-smile cameo in the next fast food spot.

Agency holiday parties are anything but holy. Production rep parties are pathetic re-enactments of Caligula.

Yes, Madison Avenue offers endless angles and positions for Adweek to pursue with tremendous appeal to its reading audience. Just be careful if delegating the writing chores to female reporters. There are too many fiends with aspirations of becoming modern-day Don Drapers out there.