Very occasionally we’re treated to an agency ‘bonding’ dinner in a vain effort to meld us into a cohesive force for good communication. So on Wednesday we were all due to troll off to Costa Azul in the Old Kent Road, London’s only Ecuadorian restaurant, for a dinner of furry pets washed down with numerous shots of puntas, only to have the whole thing suddenly cancelled by Karoline (with a K) “on principle”. This was surprising for a number of different reasons: a) she has no principles b) she is usually on the side of a repressive regime, especially one with an image-burnishing budget and c) we were going to bill the whole thing back to our clients.
It turns out that Julian Assange looks like her ex-husband (she didn’t say which one - judging by the flurry of voodoo doll activity on K’s desk, he may well have started suffering from back pain and severe headaches). And in a classic case study of why the over-50s shouldn’t be allowed near social media, she has started a Boycott The WikiBananas campaign on Facebook, determined to bring the Bonita brand to its knees.
All of which has rather overshadowed National Tripe Week, which we launched with a survey counter-intuitively revealing how much people hate tripe. Levy-funded offal promotion wasn’t what I envisaged for my uber-glam PR career path, but we tried to force some class into the whole thing with a Champagne breakfast launch at a swanky Sloane Street hotel (as the red tops would say). All was going well until the noise from pro and anti banana protesters in nearby Hans Crescent drowned out the speakers, so Britain’s foodie media may never know that the future of tripe is in their hands.