Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath invented “heavy music.” Every metal and punk band today is a direct result of the creativity that began in that special group of talented weirdos. So without question, Liquid Death is a direct result of Ozzy’s influence that shaped the punk and metal music of my formative years, that had such an outsized impact on my own personality, taste, and sense of humor. 

Fast forward to 2022 when we learned the Osbournes were fans of Liquid Death and wanted to work with us. It was an actual dream come true for me. And in terms of what Ozzy did for Liquid Death, his commercials are some of our highest performing on social to date. 

Ozzy and Sharon were both so great and easy to work with, largely because we shared a sense of kindness with a similar, twisted sense of humor. We felt like kindred spirits. In fact, before Ozzy, we first presented our DNA cans idea to another big celebrity whose management team didn’t see as much humor in it and thought it might be too risky. Ozzy and team instantly loved the concept and thought it was hilarious.

I don’t really believe in destiny or spiritual magic, but what a wonderful coincidence that Ozzy’s DNA preserved on Liquid Death Iced Tea cans was one of his last contributions on Earth. And one of his last quotes was, “Clone me, you bastards!” 

Disruption and disruptors are all the rage in modern business, and for good reason—it’s very lucrative to balance true disruption with fandom. It’s easy to disrupt with something weird that no one really enjoys or cares about; creating something truly unique, that is also widely adored, is much more rare.

Ozzy was a master disruptor. He disrupted rock music and stardom with a superhuman dose of intensity. He made the Mick Jaggers and Robert Plants of yesteryear seem like basic cable. Which made Ozzy larger than life, almost to the level of folklore. Even to this day, there are people debating whether he bit the head off a real bat or fake one. 

At the end of the day, what Ozzy really did was inspire generations of rebellious weirdos that we too could find real success. He showed millions that you don’t have to look like a fashion model or play happy music to win. With the right level of talent and intensity, anyone could break through.

This ushered in a surge of unassuming freaks who started ’80s bands like Metallica, Misfits, Slayer, and Motley Crue—who all had ridiculous success and shaped the modern landscape of heavy music today. And all of those bands are even more popular in 2025 than they were in the ’80s; they outlived so many other gimmicks from that decade.

Heavy music, particularly metal, is one of the most universal genres globally. It’s the actual “world music” genre, and Ozzy was one of the biggest contributors to its inception. If you search online, you can find music videos of a young girl in Indonesia with millions of views, who shreds incredible guitar covers of Lamb of God and countless other metal bands. She, too, is part Ozzy.

And don’t forget that The Osbournes in 2002 essentially created the modern reality television genre. The Kardashians have Ozzy to thank as well. 

Legend is a word thrown around a little too lightly these days, but Ozzy is one of the rare, true legends. He’s almost mythological. Remember, kid, there’s heroes and there’s legends—heroes get remembered, but legends never die.

In an ironic twist, the same AI tools many feared would cannibalize media might actually be the mechanism that restores its value. Large language models could finally tip power back toward premium publishers.

LLMs aren’t simply indexing content, they’re interpreting it. These models are trained on authoritative sources, named bylines, structured reporting, and consistent reputational signals. That gives premium publishers a built-in advantage.

Unlike traditional search, which rewarded clickbait and scale, LLMs reward clarity, accuracy, and context. As a result, low-effort SEO plays and content mills are being deprioritized by design. That’s a profound shift, and it’s one that real journalism is finally positioned to win.

Where SEO once rewarded tactics, generative AI rewards trust. And trust, for the first time in a long time, is becoming machine-readable.

Citations as monetizable moments

The biggest opportunity for publishers isn’t traffic. It’s presence. When AI agents cite or link to content in a response, that’s a signal boost. Every citation becomes a new kind of ad impression—one that’s native, trusted, and positioned at a moment of high user intent.

These moments can be monetized in multiple ways:

• Sponsorship of AI-cited content or topics (e.g., “Brought to you by…” integrations inside AI responses).
• Usage-based licensing for data-rich or evergreen reporting.
• Embedded links or prompts that direct users to premium environments when contextually relevant.

This shifts the economics away from fleeting page views and toward durable, high-trust visibility within AI conversations.

LLM-native ad formats are emerging

New ad formats are already being tested that are built specifically for AI environments:

• Conversational ads: Integrated seamlessly into AI outputs, these text-based ads match tone and context.
• Answer-layer sponsorships: Brand alignment with a category of answers (e.g., a travel brand appearing alongside trip planning responses).
• Contextual callouts: Brands highlighted as part of AI-recommended solutions (e.g., a cookware brand linked in a cooking-related answer).

These formats don’t work in chaotic or low-quality content ecosystems. They require well-tagged, structured, high-signal environments. Premium publishers are uniquely suited to provide such environments. As a result, the most valuable inventory won’t be visible pages. It’ll be the structured, cited, reusable snippets AI agents pull from again and again.

A second wind for direct-sold advertising

For years, direct deals were pushed aside by scalable, programmatic buys. But in a world where AI agents deliver answers instead of pages, brand safety and contextual relevance return to center stage.

Going forward, direct deals with frequently cited publishers will carry outsized value, and advertisers may pay a premium to be adjacent to LLM-verified information. Increasingly, marketers will favor partnerships that give them a durable presence in trusted content streams, not just one-time exposure.

What marketers should do now

Given this shift, marketers should consider the following strategies in an AI-first media world:

1. Shift from targeting users to targeting contexts: LLMs don’t deliver people. They deliver answers. Brands need to be discoverable in the right moments, not just the right demos.
2. Partner with citation-worthy publishers: Aligning with sources that LLMs already trust ensures you show up in the new interface of discovery.
3. Prepare creative for text-native environments: LLM outputs are overwhelmingly textual. Ads should match that format: informative, context-aware, and seamlessly embedded.
4. Treat AI agents as distribution channels: Ask: What’s our brand’s presence in generative ecosystems? How often are we cited, referenced, or recommended by AI?
5. Consider new performance metrics: Instead of CPMs or CTRs, think: How often is my brand cited in generative responses? How much influence do we have in machine-curated journeys?

The real shift: authority as inventory

When machines curate content for people—and not the other way around—the balance shifts. Long tail loses its edge. Premium reclaims its pricing power. Authority becomes scalable again.

The next great media opportunity won’t come from clicks. It will come from being trusted by the machines that decide what people see next. And for the first time in a long time, that’s very good news for publishers who still believe in quality.

Getting caught cheating is never good, but most couples don’t have their dirty laundry aired by Coldplay frontman Chris Martin in the middle of a concert.

The grainy kiss cam footage of a cuddly couple scrambling apart and ducking out of frame as Martin gently narrates the affair speculation has commanded so much organic media that any brand would be jealous. It was irresistible even before the pair were exposed as data firm Astronomer’s CEO Andy Byron and his head of HR, Kristin Cabot—who is not his wife. 

The rest was as predictable as a forecast: TikToks cropped up within hours. Memes flooded X and Instagram. In a modern twist, someone even created a fake letter of apology that went almost as viral as the original video.

The thing is, none of this had to happen. And it contains a lesson for anyone—or any brand—that finds itself in an unflattering spotlight. 

You make your own bad publicity

The world likely would’ve remained ignorant of Byron and Cabot’s alleged affair had they reacted differently to appearing on the Jumbotron. Instead of smiling, laughing it off, or giving a peck like a normal couple, they behaved as though there was something to hide. 

This is a perfect reminder of how your reaction, not the original incident, ultimately drives public perception in the digital age.

In the brand world, there are few examples of a greater doomsday event than TikTok teens drinking Grimace shakes followed by horror-movie endings—endless videos of foaming at the mouth, twitching in parking lots, and walking into the ocean at night, viewed about 3 billion times over the summer of 2023.

McDonald’s, however, didn’t blink. There was not a single cease-and-desist letter or corporate PR statement. Instead, the company leaned in with a single viral tweet of Grimace acknowledging the trend. McDonald’s let the absurdity run its course, and in doing so turned a potentially damaging news moment into one that cemented its cultural relevance. 

As the fast food chain’s then-U.S. social media lead Guillaume Huin wrote on LinkedIn, “saying nothing felt disconnected, encouraging it felt self-serving, so we just decided to show our fans that we see them and their creativity in a sweet, candid and genuine way.”

Contrast that with the reaction from the maker of Calico Critters, the tiny fuzzy animal figurines beloved by millennials since 1985. The TikTok account Sylvanian Drama has been posting darkly comedic videos starring Calico Critters since 2021, building a 2.5 million-strong following along the way. But back in April, Epoch Co., the Japanese company that makes Calico Critters, sued the TikToker, claiming their dark vignettes have caused “irreparable injury” to the “goodwill and reputation” of the brand.

Instead of allowing this niche part of the Calico Critter fandom to continue flourishing—and potentially driving a resurgence of interest in the once-popular toys—Epoch filed a copyright takedown. And just like that, the company went from being known as the maker of a nostalgic staple to corporate killjoy. (Not to mention likely boosting Sylvanian Drama’s profile by drawing attention to it.)

It’s obvious which strategy turned a dicey corporate moment into a growth opportunity.

Oh, what a thing to do

But the current crisis is about people, not brands. Surely there’s no comparison?

Yet, had Byron and Cabot simply kissed, like many other kiss cam couples do, would the video have made it to social media at all? Even if it had and they were recognized, would the situation have gone beyond watercooler whispers, maybe a Slack thread or two? Probably not, just as McDonald’s didn’t need to announce that its blueberry-flavored McDonald’s milkshake was not actually poisoning teens.

There’s a reason PR teams now talk less about crisis prevention and more about crisis management. In a world where you can’t control the camera—and definitely not social media—you have to be ready to steer the conversation. 

Panic breeds curiosity. Silence breeds speculation. But humor, authenticity, and a little self-awareness can be your best defense.

There were reasons to be happy at this year’s Cannes Lions. 

We were awarded a Titanium Lion for work we knew deserved it. It stood out from the moment I first saw it as an early idea in a meeting in São Paulo. It was the first ever Titanium win for Mars, and the first in my 28 years of building brands.

There were conversations that went delightfully off-script, like a panel with Deepak Chopra on the value of giving care outside of work to shape better leaders inside it.

And there was some brilliant work, powered by high-caliber creative talent. I returned to the Creative Effectiveness Lions jury this year—exactly 10 years after I first judged Creative Business Impact at Cannes. I was excited to see the change that a decade made in creative power grounded in truth, craft, and consequence. I met an extraordinary group of industry leaders, all willing to trade the sun and fun for a windowless room and a shared belief that great work still matters.

We’ve seen and awarded much excellent work. But we also much debated the connection between real life and the world of award submissions: Should a campaign impact be awarded when, just nine months after its Grand Prix win, the client CEO calls the brand “challenged” in their investor presentation? Should we celebrate a stunt’s creative impact when it failed to reverse the core brand’s underperformance reported in the client’s quarterly review? How long can we keep living in a parallel universe of clever stories we tell ourselves—rather than facing the outside world as it actually is?

Then, the dam broke.

Twelve Lions—one Grand Prix, three Golds, four Silvers, and four Bronzes—had to be rescinded, as the winning agency admitted to AI-doctoring its case studies. Another Grand Prix was scrutinized on the scale of local impact that its powerful case video promised. A case study for a Gold Lion was questioned for celebrating the work from four years before the submitting agency won the account. Sales results reported by another Bronze Lion win were strongly debated by local press. The swiftness of action from the Lions team was spot on, but it does little to ease the growing sense of the collective desperation. 

Beneath the awards glitter, there’s a deep, real fear of irrelevance hanging over the creative industries. I see it as a client who’s been around for many, many award seasons: a fear that in the face of accelerating technological change, we have lost not just control, but purpose. 

Instead of confronting that fear, we turn to the ever more sophisticated “fake magic”: exaggerated cases, inflated impact metrics, and self-congratulatory narratives so detached from reality they feel like bad fiction.

Cannes Lions—and the entire ecosystem of award shows—must change. Not incrementally. Fundamentally. We must dedicate these “meetings of minds” to real conversations. We need to stop treating these festivals as temples of applause and start using them as forums of reckoning. Places for hard questions, uncomfortable answers, and real creative debate. 

What is the role of originality when anyone can generate content? What does effectiveness mean when trust is eroding? What kind of creativity do we actually need now? These real conversations are there, happening quietly and privately in the background—shouldn’t we bring them to the forefront? 

Of course, it’s easier to criticize than to build. To throw stones than to venture an alternative. Through honest conversations in the aftermath of this year’s festival, I feel that the Lions team’s intent to change is real. They care and are ready to listen to the voices that share the urgency to act. I’m glad to be part of this conversation; festivals like Lions can offer a unique platform for tackling the issues that are symptomatic of the creative industries’ identity crisis.

The single reason for being of the creative industries is to help businesses and brands grow. It’s what will determine their long-term survival. Clearly, it’s tougher than ever to grow today, so shouldn’t that be the core of our discussion about creative power? If the creative industries don’t reform the way they see and talk about creativity, they will keep living a parody of the relevance they once commanded.

The fear in our industry is real. Mergers. Layoffs. Budget cuts. AI literally threatens to replace us (shout-out Meta). And then 2025 arrived, kicking off with a wave of anti-DEI sentiment from the current administration—and, in lockstep, from many marketers.

And now, we’re witnessing the most aggressive attack on immigrants this generation has seen. Last month, when ICE raids hit Los Angeles like a bullet train, our agency spoke out—not about the financial hit to our communities or our clients, but about the emotional and human toll of such a blatant display of hostility toward immigrant families. Just as the DEI backlash was never truly about meritocracy, these raids aren’t really about legal versus illegal. They’re about targeting the most vulnerable.

For us, speaking up felt obvious. We’re an independent, minority-owned agency founded by immigrants. But what surprised me was how few others joined us. Over the past few weeks, agencies have been largely silent. I know Cannes was happening; I saw it everywhere in my feed. But while everyone was off celebrating creativity, the raids continued—and spread. 

Even before Cannes, our industry’s employees felt the silence, not just publicly but internally at their offices. Those of us who did speak out heard from some of your staff, “We wish someone at our agency would even bring this up, but it’s just BAU around here.”

This isn’t just a West Coast issue, either. Raids are happening nationwide. And according to multiple sources, nearly 70% of those being detained have no criminal record and no warrants.

So why should our industry weigh in? Thus far, I’ve seen a few posts about the potential financial impact—declining sales, reduced store traffic, and the long-term risks of alienating multicultural communities. All important, of course. But I’d like to offer two more reasons why we, as agencies and brands, should demonstrate we care.

For starters, your employees care. More than 40% of marketing professionals are under 35. That same age group is more than 40% multicultural, and 12% identify as LGBTQ+. And—this matters—65% of them oppose ICE raids. If you think they’re not watching your silence, you’re mistaken, trust me.

Secondly, your customers care. That same under-35 group is your present and future audience. In a world where AI is leveling the playing field, what’s left is your brand’s values and emotional connection. Brand love, not just brand performance, will be the differentiator.

I’m not naïve. I’ve been in this industry long enough to understand the balancing act, specifically the risks agencies take when representing brands (and sometimes, government entities), and the calculus brands do when deciding where to take a stand. But it’s equally naïve to believe this moment will pass without consequences. People are watching, young people especially. They’re waiting for leaders to lead—to speak up, to take risks, to show empathy. And as we know firsthand, in the absence of governments doing what they should be doing, people will look to brands and the business world to fill that void. Herein is the opportunity.

No, we’re not elected officials. We’re not policymakers. But we are communicators. Storytellers. If we can’t use our voice to acknowledge the truth and lived experience of the people we claim to care about, then we need to ask ourselves why we’re in this business at all.

There are many ways to speak up, support your teams, and tell these stories. So if you’re not sure how to tackle this one, reach out. I’m happy to brainstorm with you and your teams—because this is about all of us, and it isn’t about being political or apolitical. It’s about being human.

Nobody said leadership would be easy. But as David Ogilvy once said: “Leaders grasp nettles.” Now’s the time. 

I’m as skeptical about the latest “shiny object” announcement as anyone else. And just coming back from Cannes Lions, companies both large and small had major news to share; the coming of agentic artificial intelligence was the talk of the town.

Right now, we’ve got marketing teams running 80 to 120 different tools and platforms. Half the time, they can’t even talk to each other easily—they are siloed. APIs come to the rescue and bring the necessary platform-to-platform connectivity needed to power today’s adtech ecosystem.

But APIs don’t solve for cross-platform orchestration. If you want to run a simple audience activation campaign across multiple channels, suddenly you need a team of engineers just to make it happen.

So, with everyone on the Croisette racing toward AI agents that promise to automate complex workflows, how can businesses actually start AI-enabling their tech stacks? 

That hope is where the Model Context Protocol comes in. MCP isn’t going to inspire screaming headlines about epochal change for your career. There won’t be any conference sessions about MCPs replacing your job as an award-winning creative. But the potential is very real that MCP is emerging as the standard that will make our agentic marketing future a reality.

The foundation of connectivity

APIs are the OGs of connectivity. They’ve been around since the 1950s (really).

APIs are used to connect today’s tech stacks, but they clearly weren’t built with AI agents in mind. Consider a typical campaign workflow: You want to build an audience in your customer data platform, push it to The Trade Desk and Meta, get reporting back, optimize based on performance, track conversions, and send a summary to your client. Sounds simple enough. But in reality, you’re dealing with different rate limits, varying data structures, and about six different places where the whole thing can fall apart.

Now, imagine trying to get an AI agent to handle that workflow. With APIs, you’d need to teach the agent every platform’s specific requirements, every error condition, every little gotcha that comes with each integration. That doesn’t make business sense, especially when you are talking about 80-120 platforms in your tech stack.

MCP flips this completely. Instead of agents needing to understand the technical complexity of every platform, they communicate through the protocol servers that provide context (the “C” in MCP) about what each system can do and how to work with it. Think of it as giving your agent a really good interpreter for every platform in your stack.

What agentic orchestration actually looks like

The promise here isn’t just about simplifying integrations. It’s about finally enabling the kind of automated workflows we’ve been talking about for years.

I could write into a chat interface right now, “Take our high-value customer segment from last quarter’s campaign. Run it on social and programmatic channels. Aim for a return on ad spend of more than four times, and send me updates every week on how it’s performing.” An agent equipped with the right MCP connections could theoretically execute that entire workflow without me touching another platform.

Again, this is not five years in the future. The major LLM providers have already adopted MCP as the standard: OpenAI, Gemini, and Claude are all supporting it. The future is now.

Why this time should be different

What I like about MCP compared to every other “revolutionary” integration solution we’ve seen is the modularity. You’re not locked into some vendor’s ecosystem or forced to rebuild everything to make it AI-enabled or when you add a new platform.

Managing API-based connections at scale takes real resources. MCP adds a new connection layer that makes those same APIs usable by agents across multiple platforms, extending the value of APIs, not replacing them. 

Think about it from a practical standpoint. If you’re running an enterprise tech stack, you can’t wait for every vendor to build native AI integrations. But you can use MCP as the bridge between your existing APIs and these new agentic capabilities.

The guardrails we actually need

You might very well be wondering whether we’re going to have AI agents running loose with our media budgets. Look, I get it. The idea of autonomous systems making real-time decisions with client budgets should make you nervous.

It comes down to safeguards. MCP works through existing API frameworks, so they inherit the guardrails you’ve already got in place. Plus, you can layer on additional controls. User profiles also limit what agents can do. Mandatory approval checkpoints are an essential safeguard for big decisions, and there are audit trails for everything.

The goal isn’t to eliminate human oversight. The role of professionals’ judgment is the point. Instead of manually moving files between systems and babysitting integrations, you should be setting strategic parameters and making high-level optimization calls while agents handle the operational tasks.

Start small. Maybe it’s just automating audience file transfers. Then maybe it’s basic reporting aggregation. You crawl, then you walk, then you run.

The choice

What most people aren’t thinking about yet is that MCP isn’t just about connecting your own platforms. It’s about adding a new layer of connectivity that other companies can plug into. The question is whether you’re building that orchestration layer or just hoping someone else builds it for you.

We need to be smarter about this tool. Choose your MCP providers carefully. Start with clear use cases. Build governance frameworks before you need them. And please, for the sake of your sanity, don’t try to automate everything at once.

This is the good thing about these early days. We can approach MCP thoughtfully and create something that actually works. Or … we can rush in blindly and create another expensive mess that requires armies of specialists to maintain.

We are living through a search evolution. And just like living through any big change, we’re getting conflicting information.

We learn that Google handles 5 trillion annual searches at the same time we learn that Google’s market share slipped below 90% for the first time since 2015. We read that AI chatbots are exploding while learning that their market share is still less than 1%. We hear predictions like “search engine traffic will drop 25% by 2026” and that “42% of people say Google is becoming less useful” in the same breath that we hear studies found Google Search grew 20% in the past year.

All of this is true. Search is contracting as it expands, and we’re living through the growing pains.

Two main factors are driving this evolution—and asking which one drives the other is like asking whether the chicken or the egg came first, so let’s agree that both are on even footing:

1. AI is contracting.
2. User behavior is expanding.

The AI explosion is permanently changing the search landscape. As AI chatbots like ChatGPT and Gemini continue to learn, search engines like Google are incorporating AI in new and evolving ways. Google continues to test and iterate on their AI Overviews and has expanded into AI Mode, their new AI-driven search tab. AI search engines like Perplexity continue to have steady usage, even if the market share is a paltry fraction of Google’s. 

The advent of AI in traditional search spaces is contracting the available search real estate for brands. Brands who previously depended on informational, high-funnel traffic are being hit hard by AI Overviews as they contract page 1 of Google, creating more competitive search results with less real estate, fewer links, and potentially less visibility. 

But user behavior is expanding—or more accurately, blowing up—our idea of search. 76% of consumers have used a social media platform to search, and 52% of people say they go to non-Google platforms for information. Part of this is because of smarter, faster, more personalized platforms (*ahem* TikTok), and part of it is because people are sick of sifting through the traditional Google search results. Case in point: 54% of people look through more search results than they did five years ago—not because they love the experience, but because it’s harder to find the information they want.

Digital marketing is extra confusing right now because these two huge changes are happening at the same time. Search engines are evolving, integrating AI and recalibrating to incorporate technology to try and anticipate user demands, and at the same time, search patterns are evolving, with people looking for information beyond traditional search engines and expecting fast, accurate, helpful answers. 

Google is aware of the changing search patterns and feeling the competition from social media applications; you can see Google’s response to this competition in their recent updates. The new Short Videos tab and the inclusion of short-form video carousels in search results are great examples, with Google surfacing TikTok videos, Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts rather than regular videos hosted on YouTube and other video platforms. 

So where does that leave marketers? Our idea of search must expand beyond traditional search because people are already migrating. They are searching for information in different ways, on different platforms, using voice, text, and image search, and wanting short-form video and accurate, easy-to-digest written responses as answers.

We can’t wait for traditional search engines to catch up to evolving search behaviors. So in that sense, our job as marketers remains the same: We must create content that resonates with our audiences and ensure it is optimized to be found, wherever it may be on the internet.

Every May, our feeds flood with brand messages that paint motherhood as perfection: breakfast in bed, handwritten cards, heartwarming tributes to mom. But after the social posts fade and the brunches wrap, reality resets. Moms often shoulder the mental load of an entire household like it’s CrossFit for the soul: scheduling appointments, coordinating pickups, even (ahem) planning their own Mother’s Day celebrations.

But this year, a different kind of Mother’s Day campaign broke through the noise: DoorDash’s “DoorDad.” The insight at the heart of the campaign rang true to hundreds of thousands of mothers (and fathers!) who hear “Mooooooom!” a million-ish times a day: Even in equitable, “50-50” parenting households, moms are often the default parent.

Backed by a 2023 Syracuse University study that found schools contact moms first even when dads are listed equally on forms, “DoorDad” flipped the script by acknowledging what Mom really needs is a break from the constant asks. So DoorDash put their money where its mouth is, moving beyond the clichés to actually help out—with flowers and a decision-free day.

The success of “DoorDad” points to a deeper cultural truth and an opportunity for brands. Why do we romanticize motherhood for one day a year, only to ignore the real, relentless labor moms carry the other 364? Why do we keep reinforcing rituals that literally do the least, while failing to challenge the systems that make motherhood feel unrelenting? (Of course it’s also joyous and beautiful and grounding, but the reluctance to acknowledge the other side is a cycle that many moms, like me, want to stop!)

Mother’s Day is now a $35 billion industry, making it one of the most commercially important holidays of the year. And yet, the lived reality for many moms is still shaped by what sociologists call “the second shift”—the unpaid, unacknowledged, and uninterrupted work of caregiving that often falls mostly on their shoulders. This isn’t just emotional, it’s economic; according to McKinsey, if unpaid care work were accounted for, it would be worth $10 trillion globally.

Father’s Day, too, deserves a reckoning. For years, it’s been a celebration of dad-joke mugs, BBQ aprons, and slapstick stereotypes. But what would it look like if brands treated Father’s Day not as a punchline, but as a call to show up? What if it became a platform to recognize and expand modern fatherhood, to push past outdated tropes and into a more honest and equal future?

There’s early evidence that this evolution in parental appreciation day marketing is gaining momentum. Brands like Dove Men+Care have championed paternity leave and Indian detergent Ariel highlighted dads confronting patriarchy through hands-on parenting. Others, like DoorDash, have used humor to surface hard truths that ask dads to do more. These moments hint at a future where marketing isn’t just reflective, but reformative.

Brands make human truths visible. And they have the power to normalize a new kind of parental celebration—one where motherhood isn’t synonymous with martyrdom and where fatherhood isn’t defined by lawn care and grill tools.

So as we cycle through another season of tributes and tie displays, let’s ask better questions. Not, “What should we get Mom?” but, “Why is she still getting called first?” Not, “What makes a good dad?” but, “What does celebrating fatherhood look like beyond corny jokes?” Brands have the opportunity to ask these questions through marketing, starting with Father’s Day, to paint a more aspirational vision of equitable parenting.

We hear a lot about the Big Five in retail media: Amazon, Walmart, Instacart, Target, and Kroger. And fair enough—they represent 90% of the addressable media market across onsite and offsite placements. They’ve got the traffic, the tooling, the infrastructure—and the eyeballs. But they don’t have everything.

These behemoths are not always the right place for every brand, every product, or every campaign. And when it comes to building brand equity, tapping specific communities, or launching high-intent activations tied to seasonal or category moments, smaller retail media networks can sometimes outperform the big guys in all the ways that matter.

Niche doesn’t mean small

Niche retail media networks aren’t niche because they’re irrelevant. They’re niche because they go deep, not wide—and that’s exactly what certain brands need.

These aren’t fringe players. Most are category captains. They have loyal, purchase-ready audiences, powerful first-party data, and category authority. And more critically, they’re building real retail media offerings, from custom ad units to loyalty-linked segmentation to fully formed networks with onsite, offsite, and in-store activations.

Some are newer to the game than others. Some require more manual setup or don’t yet offer self-serve dashboards. But most have matured faster than expected—and for the right brands, the payoff is real.

It reminds me of the early 2010s when I was testing non-Google paid search platforms like eZanga and 7Search (anyone remember those?). The volume wasn’t there, but I wasn’t expecting it. I was chasing relevance. With niche RMNs, you’re not looking for scale—you’re looking for alignment. And for brands that don’t fit neatly into an Amazon taxonomy, or want to break through a cluttered category, these platforms offer a powerful way in.

Let’s break down who’s worth watching—and why.

Chewy

Pet parents are loyal. So is Chewy.

Chewy recently launched its own ad platform with proprietary tech and a laser focus on customer lifetime value. You can track standard ROAS, sure, but what makes it interesting is its ability to tie purchases to autoship conversions and display LTV ROAS. That’s a massive differentiator in a category where repeat orders and subscription behavior matter more than basket size.

Also, its Customer Satisfaction Scores are famously high, and its community engagement (cards, donations, surprises) makes them one of the most trusted retailers in pet care. For brands in this space, this trust halo matters more than anything.

I’m speaking from past and recent experience. I lost a fur baby—I’ve never cried over cancelling an autoship before, and Chewy’s Wow Team reached out with a custom pet portrait. So when I adopted a puppy recently, a Husky mix, the call was easy as to where the treats were going to come from.

Sephora

Exclusive SKUs. Hardcore fans. Serious volume.

Sephora has long been a requested partner by beauty brands—and it’s no mystery why. From exclusive product drops to seasonal event surges like Spring Savings, it offers both reach and resonance.

Its RMN is built on PromoteIQ and supports sponsored products, self-serve and managed campaigns, and strong integration with its VIB loyalty program, where 90% of sales are attached to card-carrying members like myself. It’s not just about impressions—it’s about connecting with consumers who already see Sephora as a discovery destination.

AutoZone

If you’re in the category, you’re in the Zone.

With over 6,000 locations and massive market share in aftermarket auto parts, AutoZone is a category anchor. Its RMN, powered by Quotient (now part of Neptune Retail Solutions), supports both personal and commercial buyers. This is a high-need, high-intent audience—perfect for brands in auto tools, accessories, fluids, and maintenance.

Its customer culture is unique and values expertise, reliability, and speed. That translates to strong loyalty, high repeat rates, and big-ticket potential.

Dick’s Sporting Goods

Not just cleats and cardio anymore.

Dick’s is building a full-stack RMN anchored by its ScoreCard loyalty program and GameChanger app. With over 850 stores and deep reach into school sports, leagues, and outdoor recreation, they’ve turned seasonal sports moments into full-funnel activations. They also launched Dick’s Varsity Team, a creator program with real product seeding and community engagement.

Media placements span onsite, offsite, CTV, and in-store—making it a smart test bed for brands with a sports adjacency or tentpole strategy (think Olympics, back-to-school, or seasonal sports shifts).

Best Buy Ads

Not just for tech anymore.

Best Buy’s ad business has matured quickly, and its upcoming U.S. third-party marketplace launch (powered by Mirakl) will add even more opportunities for brand exposure and product discovery. They’ve recently expanded into self-service PMax campaign access—a rarity among RMNs—and run onsite media via Criteo.

Whether you’re in electronics or wellness tech, Best Buy should be on your radar. It’s still curated, premium, and offers flexibility many of its competitors don’t.

GoPuff

Dark store meets Gen Z attention economy.

Never mind the name—this micro-fulfillment delivery retailer (which bought BevMo in 2020) is as niche as it gets. While brands may not have a large catalog available, it’s a high-velocity item machine with a 30-minute delivery window. A fully digital experience frequented by Gen Z and millennials, they’ve leaned hard into AI-powered features around sampling, add-to-cart ease, and experiences like brand shops to allow a brand to build a more immersive experience. 

Known for rapid delivery and snack-heavy carts, GoPuff is a niche platform with high volume for high-velocity SKUs. Think hydration, wellness, snacks, energy, and “I forgot I needed this but I’m in big trouble without it” type items.

Powered by Koddi, GoPuff offers onsite sponsored products, display, and non-endemic ad options. And its unique checkout experience—with product bundles, gamified cart adds, and personalized sampling—is optimized for discovery and frequency. You won’t sell your whole catalog here, but you might become someone’s go-to hydration, yogurt, or flushable wipes brand for life.

Uber Ads

One app. Many moments.

Uber has evolved beyond rides and restaurants into retail. It’s partnered with Instacart Carrot Ads in the U.S. and Criteo for international scale—bringing sponsored product tech into the Uber Eats and grocery ecosystem.

What makes Uber Ads worth taking a close look at is its event-driven cadence. Campaigns can be timed to moments of movement—pregame snacks, morning commute, late-night cravings. With Kristi Argyilan at the helm, the RMN is scaling fast and could rival DoorDash in functionality.

So, how do you get in?

Many of these platforms have a Contact Us form. Others are more opaque. The easiest entry point: Ask your SSP—if you’re already running with Criteo, PromoteIQ, CitrusAd, or Koddi, they can often connect the dots or fast-track onboarding. Obviously, your commerce media agency can help make this go even faster.

For newer or regional networks, lean on your broker or retail buyer to make the introduction. It’s a hustle—but for the right brand, it’s worth it.

Budgeting for the long tail

You don’t need to ditch the Big Five. But you do need a long tail line item—a test-and-learn pool for networks like these. Not to throw at unproven platforms, but to align to moments, categories, and brand stories that big-box RMNs can’t fully support.

These platforms are where you build brand, not just drive conversions. And in a landscape where everyone’s fighting the same algorithms with the same inventory, that differentiation matters.

Retail media isn’t just about reach—it’s about fit. The big players might get the headlines. But specialty networks? They’re getting attention, loyalty, and results. And in today’s market, that’s where smart money goes.

While iconic childhood staples like Club Penguin, Cartoon Network’s online games, and Disney Channel’s browser-based experiences have been sunsetted or folded into broader entertainment portfolios, Neopets is quietly rewriting the rules of brand longevity. Since coming under new leadership in 2023, the virtual pet site has tripled its monthly active users to more than 400,000, with daily peaks hitting 250,000—the highest in over a decade.

Launched in 1999 and now celebrating 25 years, Neopets is in the middle of a full-scale resurgence. It has signed more than 30 new licensing deals, expanded global merchandising, and rolled out fresh product collaborations with nostalgia-driven brands—all while staying true to the lore and oddball charm that defined its early 2000s appeal.

This isn’t a glossy rebrand. It’s a return to form, rooted in community loyalty, emotional resonance, and the commercial value of going deep instead of wide. I should know: I played Neopets from 2003 to 2015, then returned in 2019—older, busier, but still curious. I relearned the economy, made over 100 million Neopoints, and earned trophies I never could as a kid. What I found was a world that had evolved with its original audience. It was still playful, still eccentric, and built to last.

So, what can legacy brands take from Neopets’ revival playbook and apply to their own comeback stories? 

Build lore into brand loyalty

Neopets didn’t modernize by smoothing down its edges. It leaned in.

Serialized story arcs like The Void Within revived long-form world-building, tapping into a shared nostalgia for high-stakes narratives like The Lost Desert of the early 2000s. In the opening weeks of release, players banded together to earn over 10 million plot points by reading chapters, collecting void essence, and engaging with lore-based challenges—proving content-rich storytelling still holds power in a short-form world. Mobile titles like Tales of Dacardia and Faerie Fragments expanded the universe without abandoning its browser-based foundation fans knew.

For marketers, the lesson is clear: Continuity builds credibility. If your brand has a story, keep telling it in deeper, more resonant ways. 

Fix what your audience remembers you broke

Before launching anything new, Neopets prioritized rebuilding trust. The team addressed years of technical debt, fixed long-standing bugs, revived dormant features, and restored beloved minigames broken by Flash. One example: Atlas of the Ancients, a plotline abandoned for over a decade, was quietly restored after years of being inaccessible due to outdated tech.

The repair work, while not glamorous, mattered. For longtime players, it signaled Neopets was finally listening, making the brand’s return feel less like a comeback and more like a promise kept.

Even small fixes became brand-building moments. The site’s “Something Has Happened” alerts—random pop-ups with quirky in-game messages—returned with new intent. One read: “Something has happened! A herd of Meepits holding clip boards and ring lights frantically ran past you. I wonder where they’re going?” The word “going” linked to Neopet’s Facebook page, a subtle yet effective tactic to drive cross-platform engagement from gameplay.

The takeaway? Don’t just launch something new. Fix what your audience remembers you broke. The smallest improvements, when tied to community memory, can drive the biggest results.

Make licensing extend the story

Neopets has treated licensing as a deliberate evolution of its IP—one that expands the World of Neopia rather than simply monetizing it.

Hasbro’s 25th Anniversary Monopoly set sold out in less than 24 hours. Upper Deck launched a trading card game. Plush toys returned to Hot Topic and GameStop. A graphic novel, The Discarded Magical Blue Grundo Plushie of Prosperity, drops this August. By designing each product to carry a piece of the narrative forward, Neopets turned merchandising into a form of storytelling. 

For brands looking to convert audience interest into sales, use product extensions to expand your world. When fans see the story embedded in every format, even commercial touch points feel like meaningful chapters.

Make fandom tangible

The 25th anniversary brought Neopets into the real world in ways that felt earned. Fans organized birthday meetups in 41 cities across 13 countries. In May 2025, over 100 It’s Boba Time cafés became Neopian pop-ups, offering themed drinks, exclusive swag, and in-game codes. These moments gave the community something to show up for and turned digital nostalgia into something you could touch. 

To make brand love last, bring it offline, by translating online energy into real-world participation. Create moments your audience can see, share, and physically show up for.

Design with your community, not just for them

This resurgence didn’t happen in isolation. AMA livestreams across YouTube, Twitch, and Instagram drew over 200,000 views, and the official Instagram account’s followers surged 123%. A new ambassador program invited fans to co-create content and help shape the brand. Rather than chasing trends, the brand is investing in belonging and letting its community guide what comes next.

If you want people to stick around, let them shape what they’re part of. The result? They’ll fight harder for what they helped create.

Neopets isn’t trying to relive the past, it’s honoring the players who never left. In doing so, it proves that the strongest comebacks don’t start from scratch—they start by remembering what made you matter. For legacy brands looking to reenter culture, Neopets shows that loyalty isn’t dead. It just needs a reason to log back in.