The first woman president of an advertising agency and the first woman CEO of a company on the New York Stock Exchange tells her "riveting story: How she shattered every glass ceiling and became a Madison Avenue legend."* From her role as fledgling copywriter at Doyle Dane Bernbach -- the agency that made big-car-obsessed America fall in love with the funny little Volkswagen -- to her brilliant campaign for Braniff Airways that had the flying public scrambling for seats on wild-colored planes to founding the fastest-growing ad agency in history, Mary Wells Lawrence's life in advertising couldn't be any bigger. As The New York Observer put it, her agency, Wells Rich Greene, created ads that "etched indelible phrases into the public imaginations: 'Flick your Bic' and 'I Love New York!' and 'Plop plop, fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is.'" For those thinking about a life in advertising for themselves and for anyone who enjoys being transported by a great storyteller's art, Mary Wells Lawrence is the most energetic, passionate guide to the world of American advertising in all its brilliance, excitement, fun and crazines In the nineteen-sixties, the stiff, information-heavy ads of the previous decade were buried beneath a wave of hip, daring TV commercials and print campaigns as the Wasps who had ruled Madison Avenue gave way to a more diverse crowd of copywriters and art directors. Lawrence was the head of the ad agency Wells Rich Greene during this period, and her account is true to the spirit of that revolution: insouciant, ebullient, and, above all, stylish. She provides a behind-the-scenes look at some of the best ad campaigns she was involved in, including "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz," "Flick your Bic," and "I Love New York," and, along with descriptions of day-to-day combat with clients and competitors, offers vivid sketches of life in the swinging sixties. The result is that most unusual of books—an entertaining business memoir. Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker Stuart Elliott The New York Times Book Review Evocative and compelling...frank and forthright...You don't have to be in advertising to appreciate a big life in advertising. The New Yorker [I]nsouciant, ebullient and, above all, stylish...the result is that most unusual of books -- an entertaining business memoir. Alan Pell Crawford The Washington Post Book World [A] first-rate look at a special moment in the history of American advertising and American business. Richard Stengel Time As engaging, effervescent and brave as the ads she created. Mary Wells Lawrence was born in Poland, Ohio, and attended the Carnegie Institute of Technology. She has been inducted into both the Advertising Hall of Fame and the Copywriters Hall of Fame. She lives in Mustique, London and Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. Chapter One I was working at McCann Erickson for the money, for little black dance dresses that showed off my Norwegian legs, for my baby daughters' smocked dresses from Saks and for an apartment larger than I could afford -- but then I met Bill Bernbach and he made a serious woman out of me. In the fifties in New York if you talked about "Bill" you meant Bill Bernbach. He was the talk of the town because he was creating a revolution in the advertising business, which was a glamorous business at the time. He challenged all the big advertising agencies that had become important since World War II, saying they had killed advertising, ads had become dishonest, boring, insulting, even insane. Worse, they didn't sell anything to anybody. The big agencies defended themselves; they said they made advertising scientifically, with sophisticated research. But Bill said either they were liars or they were stupid; their pitiful research reduced advertising to, basically, one poor tired ad that was repeated over and over again. When he really got going he would say things like, "The big agencies are turning their creative people into mimeograph machines!" and all the frustrated creative people in town would stamp their feet and cheer, "Yea, Bill!" The advertising business, like America itself after the war, had built up the fiction of safety with its hierarchies and armylike respect for the boss. In the big agencies the boss was a group of executives called the Creative Review Board. Their research told them that America hungered for happiness and peace, so they produced advertising that was happy and peaceful. Children were always clean and smiling. Dogs were clean and smiling. Firemen, police, farmers and coal miners were clean and smiling. Everybody waved to each other in the ads. Beautiful women stretched out on the roofs of cars in their gowns and jewels and furs to make the cars look prettier. Bottles of whiskey wore crowns and stood proudly on red velvet columns pretending they were the Duke of Windsor. Bill was right; advertising was the land of the insane. There was never any direct personal communication, never any tension or drama or interesting inform