Don’t Fuck It Up
…is a curious thing to write on a wall. I wasn’t sure it was going to work - self fulfilling prophecy. By work I mean accepted. It’s a big four letter word, but it is pretty. The only way to really know was to try.
Y’know, a month in, you quickly get used to it. Chatting with the company financial advisor about pension contributions this morning, he didn’t even notice. Although it was perhaps most relevant.
We’ve always said it dryly to each other before big meetings. I often say it to new Clubbers, which frankly is mean, I feel guilty - but it is fun. More recently people have been saying it back to me. Which, well, fair play.
It’s getting a little outta hand. I’ve a geo-fenced reminder that triggers when I get near the office and notifies me of such every morning. My partners, for my recent 40th, bought me a solid silver Tiffany putter with it engraved on the blade - and who doesn’t need one of those. As if that wasn’t sufficient advice, we’ve now had it sign-written, traditional skills mind, no vinyl stickers - above our heads.
So, I’ve been thinking about what it actually means.
Like ‘break-a-leg’ - DFIU has become a dark way of saying good luck.
But, it’s bigger.
DFIU is recognition. A celebration that something fuck-uppable is present - a volatile element. The scent of failure. The un-proven.
Fuck-uppable is good. Interesting. If we are going to try and change the world - in our case, to better advertising - then we can only achieve that by having ideas that are different. Brave. More consequential.
But, if it actually fucks up. That’s bad.
So, take care. Whilst failure has been much heroised, it’s still always better avoided. Don’t.
