Chris Jordan

Remembering Pounds Shanks Jordan

Signed 1994

They say you never forget the first serious job, or as adfolks might put it, your first real agency. It was a big deal back then, exchanging notes with fellow graduates over drinks and showing off business cards (if you were so lucky to get one), sharing what awesome opportunities and assignments you were given (never mind if they were the stuff the art director didn’t want to do). Often one had to give the elevator intro to who one was working for. “I work with the David Shanks and Chris Jordan, the Shanks and Jordan in Pounds Shanks Jordan,” I’d declare, as if it was any better than working with THE Hagerty in BBH. It was a small agency with offices in Hong Kong and Singapore, with the Singapore one housed in an old rickety heritage shophouse (long before it was the fashionable abode of boutique agencies) right smack in the heart of Little India. Macs were slow and the internet was non-existent. Motorcycle couriers dashed back and forth with print-outs on boards and contracts in manilas. Pitches were done over meetings with cigarette smoke. Wasn’t quite like Madmen but pretty close for me. Wide-eyed and bushy-tailed types like young Jef enjoyed every scandal, every champagne celebration (my first champagne stupor took place in the conference room and they found me unconscious on the board room table) and every victory.

In the heart of all this was Chris Jordan. The boss. The first man in the office way before everyone else every morning, and that included the cleaning lady. It’s a big deal to see the white dude picking up the broom for a sweep when it was needed and nicer yet to summoned by name because it meant you were going to be given something important to do and it usually was. We could even call him by his first name. Unheard of back in the day. I remember Chris’s generosity, his passion and his constant throwing of hands in the air when was asked to perform another miracle to rival Moses’ parting of the Red Sea: “He’s asking me to WHAT? UNSELL WHAT WE ALREADY SOLD?” Once he singled me out during a major presentation with a client whose assembly looked like a scene from a Chinese mobster meeting… the big boss with his brick cellphone, smoking and interruptive etc. Someone had objected to an idea on the big boss’ behalf: “This won’t work with Asians,” he puffed. To which Chris replied pointing his finger in my direction: “He thought of it, and he’s Asian!” Aha. Won!

A victory like that, you also can’t forget.

Here’s all I’ve got from Chris that I’ve kept from all these years. Yes, it’s my contract. And that’s his signature right there. Why would anyone bother to keep stuff like that you’d ask. I don’t know how to answer. Maybe an agency and a founder like Chris, was meant to always be remembered. And memories of those times cherished.

Chris Jordan passed away this week. Rest in peace, Chris.

Read David’s funny tribute here.