I have a guilty pleasure: reading the wedding section of the weekend paper magazines.
Don’t ask me why. I’ve been married for more years than I can count but something draws me to those celebratory pages.
Maybe it’s the optimism of it all, or maybe it’s the sheer spectacle. Probably a bit of both.
Among all the extravagance, like flying up a makeup artist from Melbourne to Brisbane for just a few hours, one story didn’t just speak to me – it shouted at me.
It was about a couple who’d been together for years. When asked about the proposal, the woman said,
“I proposed to him over a game of Uno.”
“I proposed to him over a game of Uno.”
That got me. Not because I’m obsessed with Uno (don’t get me started on those people who think you can’t stack a Draw Four on another Draw Four), or because it bucked gender stereotypes, but because it was sweet and simple.
The story went on to describe how they made the wedding a celebration of creative simplicity. Every decision was marked with a little celebration in the lead up to the wedding. The bride made her own dress. The groom sourced beer glasses on Facebook Marketplace so they could serve beer from their favourite local brewery. The reception? In their backyard. It was loving, fun, and unapologetically them.
I read this story months ago, but the proposal still makes the sides of my mouth twitch upwards. When I tell people, they look at me like they are waiting for another punch line.
But here’s the thing, it was simple yet wildly unique.
Why I loved this story was that it flew in the face of convention; the notion that weddings must be extravagant, that success depends on excess. It’s a simple idea, and I think it can be extrapolated to any number of fields, including my own.
When people think about improving internal communications, they often assume it needs to be complicated, and costly. Multiple platforms, endless suppliers, and a budget that makes the CFO’s mouth twitch downwards and lean further into their disdain for the marketing and communications department.
The simplest plans often create the strongest connections. So, before you start, ask yourself:
- What do we actually want to achieve?
- How will we measure success?
- Have we really stopped, asked and listened to staff about what they want to hear, how they want to hear it, and how often?
- If we add something, what do we subtract to keep communication clear?
- If subtraction doesn’t apply, what can we substitute or merge?
- What can we do with the tools we already have? Do we really need another platform and monthly subscription?
- What behaviour do we want to change or add?
- What changes will we make in our own behaviour?
- Who needs to be involved from the start and lead as ongoing ambassadors?
- What do we actually need to say that’s relevant and meaningful?
- And lastly, what’s your Wild Card? That thing that makes people stop, pay attention, and maybe even smile?
The simplest plans often create the strongest connections. So, before you start, ask yourself:
- What do we actually want to achieve?
- How will we measure success?
- Have we really stopped, asked and listened to staff about what they want to hear, how they want to hear it, and how often?
- If we add something, what do we subtract to keep communication clear?
- If subtraction doesn’t apply, what can we substitute or merge?
- What can we do with the tools we already have? Do we really need another platform and monthly subscription?
- What behaviour do we want to change or add?
- What changes will we make in our own behaviour?
- Who needs to be involved from the start and lead as ongoing ambassadors?
- What do we actually need to say that’s relevant and meaningful?
- And lastly, what’s your Wild Card? That thing that makes people stop, pay attention, and maybe even smile?
If you want more guidance, I suggest you read How to Speak Human by Jen and Dougal Jackson, the brilliant duo behind the organisation Everyday Massive. It’s practical, insightful, and refreshingly human.
The thing about internal communications, just like a successful marriage, is it’s a union of give and take.
Now, I’m sure there’s a backstory to that Uno proposal.
Maybe they met over a game in a backpacker bar in Thailand, where one was blatantly cheating and the other swooped in like a hero.
Or maybe they were playing to decide who’d tackle the job no one wants (that’s how my husband and I decide who vacuums).
Or perhaps it was just a sunny afternoon, two people laughing in bed, and she simply said, “I want to walk next to you every day, how about it?”
Don’t know about you, but that’s an offer I’d find hard to Skip.
