Nibbles and drinks at the beautiful Blythswood Square? Don’t mind if we do. Another Social Media Week event, this time hosted by Big Mouth Media, took place last night so along we went. Becoming quite the social networking butterfly aren’t I?
I unwittingly accented my look with red which seemed to be the colour of the night and I can’t deny an element of Glee when I discovered I was in the ‘Red Group’. Pleased with the colour but, hold on, we’re being split into groups? And the husband is green? I really am going to have to do that thing my mother warned me about and… talk to strangers. Strangers with sweets make the foreign more tempting though and so, following a short presentation by Andrew McCormick, I engaged in a team exercise which had us construct some kind of social media mission statement from a variety of laminated words. The husband’s Team Wolf took the crown (and the wine gift bags) for best slogan but for every winner there’s a loser and, last night, that loser was me. Meh, our team was self-titled The Big Sexy – I was just happy to be sexy for a night!
Social media enthuisiasts were in plentiful supply, fashion bloggers not so much, but the topics covered still got my tiny stylish mind going; how brands and blogs should work together and their perceived value of one another was especially interesting to me. Not just because I have offers of freebies and advertising flooding into my gmail account (…one day…) but because it was cool to hear from the intermediary between brand and blogger about educating each side for the best results.
Whilst the QR code cupcakes impressed the husband (‘It actually works!’), I was impressed by them too, mostly because it was way past dinner time yet again. Check out the outtakes! Social Media Week is wreaking havoc with my health. But it is Fat Friday don’t forget.
Just as an aside, one thing which has become clear during Social Media Week is that it is not only entirely acceptable to tweet and ipad during presentations, it’s actively encouraged.
P.S. On a fashion note – do my baggy crotch pants look like turd smugglers? The jury’s still out.