All the news we could fit in print.
The annual festival on the Croisette has never been short on predictions about the next great transformation of the advertising business.
The annual festival on the Croisette has never been short on predictions about the next great transformation of the advertising business.
The last time the Federal Communications Commission declined to renew a television station's broadcast license, Ronald Reagan was in the White House and MTV was still playing music videos.
The distance from "not-for-profit research laboratory" to "we have thousands of advertisers on the platform already" turns out to be about eight months, give or take a $500 billion valuation.
There was a time, not so long ago, when the marketing funnel was a tidy metaphor: awareness at the top, consideration in the middle, purchase at the bottom, and everyone stayed in their proper lane.
The French Riviera has long served as a place where advertising people go to be seen, but this year at least one agency is more interested in watching.
In the annals of corporate social media mishaps, the accidental tagging of the wrong person has become something of a reliable genre — a fleeting moment of intern-induced panic followed by an apologetic post and, if the brand is lucky, a good-natured reply from the wrongly summoned party.
The luxury business has always been, at its core, a proposition about legibility — the idea that a handbag or a watch could be read by others as a statement about its owner's place in the world.
There was a time when the American flag, rendered in pixels, seemed like a reasonable thing to put in a marketing email.
There are certain national habits that resist explanation, even to the nation in question.
The requirements for starring in a television commercial have traditionally included such attributes as youth, vigor and the ability to remember one's lines without assistance.