Can creative move culture?

There are some marketing campaigns that don’t just run – they resonate.

They hold up a mirror to the industry and quietly (or sometimes loudly) say: we can do better than this.

For me, the gold standard will probably always be This Girl Can, an initiative launched by Sport England (and funded by the National Lottery) in 2015 to break down barriers that prevent women from participating in sport and physical exercise.

When it launched, it felt genuinely new. Before that point, much of the advertising around women and sport centred on performance, perfection and aspiration in the most literal sense: elite athletes, peak fitness, flawless bodies. You had to already be “good enough” to feel included.

This Girl Can flipped that entirely. Instead of perfection, it celebrated participation. Instead of competition, it celebrated joy. 

Women weren’t shown winning medals – they were shown winning the much smaller, but arguably far braver battle of simply showing up and moving their bodies because it made them feel good.

I loved the line “I jiggle therefore I am”. It was honest, joyful and wonderfully unapologetic. The campaign showed women of different shapes, ages and abilities. And crucially, it never framed movement as a means to an end. There was no finish line, no external validation. The victory was simply deciding to begin.

That was powerful and made women feel seen, but, more importantly, it made empowerment feel lived-in rather than performative. 

The industry talked about it endlessly at the time, and rightly so. It set a new benchmark and challenged us all to reflect on how we portray women. Even now, years later, it still gives people goosebumps. That kind of cultural longevity is rare.

Of course, great ideas don’t only come along once.

A more recent campaign that gave me a similar feeling was She Built That from The LEGO Group. It tackled something equally deep-rooted: who society believes gets to be called a “builder”.

Research showed that the majority of people believe men are naturally better builders, and many girls themselves internalise that belief. 

The campaign responded by placing plaques made from LEGO bricks on iconic London landmarks that had been built – or co-built – by women. Such a simple, brilliant idea. 

It reframed the conversation without lecturing anyone. It simply said: women have always been building the world around us. And it encouraged girls to see themselves in that role too. Like This Girl Can, its power came from belief – belief that girls should see possibilities from the very beginning.

That idea of voice and belief also brings me to two women whose work I deeply admire: Amy Kean and Cindy Gallop.

Amy is doing phenomenal work through powerful initiatives like her Good Shout training programme and the Unlikeable Women Summit. Her mission is simple but vital: helping women and girls use their voices unapologetically.

Too often we’re conditioned to shrink ourselves – to soften opinions, change accents, or speak less loudly in rooms dominated by others. Amy’s work is about the opposite. 

It’s about helping women recognise the strength of their own voices and feel confident using them, rather than pretending to be someone they are not.

Cindy Gallop is another force entirely. Through ‘Make Love Not Porn’, she has spent years challenging the damaging narratives around sex that shape how young people – especially boys and men – understand relationships and women. It’s difficult work, often controversial, and rarely rewarded with the attention or funding it deserves. But Cindy’s relentless commitment to changing the conversation is extraordinary.

Both women remind us that cultural progress requires people willing to push boundaries and absorb criticism in the process. Which brings me to International Women's Day itself.

It’s sometimes easy for the day to feel symbolic: a solitary moment of appreciation before the world moves on for another year. However, my belief (and hope) is that it is evolving into something more meaningful: a moment to encourage reflection.