A conversation overheard at a coffee shop sparks a breakthrough campaign strategy. A Netflix binge reveals a new understanding of audience psychology. A hobby becomes the lens through which we see our industry differently.
At Civilization, we believe that creativity and innovation don't happen in silos—they emerge from the intersection of our professional expertise and our personal passions, curiosities, and experiences. The trends we follow, the books we read, the communities we engage with, and the rabbit holes we fall down (so. many. rabbit. holes.) all contribute to how we approach problems, generate ideas, and connect with the people we're trying to reach.
That's the premise behind Spare Change—a blog series where our team members explore the unexpected influences shaping their work.
First up, our Account Director, Allison, shares an enlightening look at how romantasy novels and BookTok helped light a creative (and emotional) fire in her approach to brand storytelling. It's a perfect example of how seemingly unrelated passions can unlock new ways of thinking about the work we do every day.
How Three Martinis and Faerie Smut Made It Into My Work Day
It was a Saturday night. Or maybe Sunday. The wine was flowing, the husbands were sighing, and my pal Kristin and I were doing what we do best: passionately defending the fantasy books that have absolutely derailed our emotional stability.
If you’re not familiar with romantasy…
First of all, I’m sorry your life is joyless.
It’s fantasy. It’s romance. It’s aggressively spicy.
And then there are the wings.
For reasons no one can fully explain (and we do not question), every single one of these books features wings. Shadow wings. Dragon wings. Feathered wings. Sometimes the men literally turn into birds. It’s weird. It’s hot. It’s canon.
It’s also dominating TikTok. And I, along with millions of other women, am fully feral for it.
Kristin and I, armed with wine and zero shame, were trying to explain to our very patient, very confused husbands why these books have women in such a chokehold. Why we haven’t been emotionally available since Rhysand whispered, “Hello, Feyre darling.”
Spoiler: it’s not the economy. It’s the winged men.
That’s when Kristin said it. The words that haven’t left my head since:
“Girls like spice. Girls like wings.”
From Smut to Strategy
The line hit me like a mating bond snap. So simple. So stupid. So perfect. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
What if that wasn’t just a throwaway joke?
What if a brand actually used it?
What if the most male-coded, sports-bar-on-steroids brand out there decided to show up for the romantasy girlies? Not with performative “girl dinner” marketing—but with dragons, drama, daddies, and dip.
What if they leaned in? Hard?
Like… steel wrapped in velvet hard.
I could see it. I could taste it.
A shadow-drenched hero emerges from the mist: “Tell me, mortal… do you crave the heat?”
A woman reading Fourth Wing in a B-Dubs booth dips a wing into an egregious amount of ranch and moans, shamelessly: “Yes, daddy. I crave the heat.”
The tagline hits: Girls like spice. Girls like wings.
At this point, I was obsessed. I was texting Kristin daily. Eventually, I realized I was no longer joking, I was spiraling toward a deck.
The Deckening
Enter Ryan, our Strategy Director. Our voice of reason. Our brave, brave man.
Did he question me when I said, “So the target is women who have read Fourth Wing twice and are emotionally unavailable because of fictional bat boys”? Maybe internally. But externally, he said: Let’s run with it.
So we built the case. The insights. The deck.
Was it unhinged? Yes.
Did we take it seriously? Also yes.
Have I ever laughed harder in a brainstorm? Absolutely not.
We made it weird. We made it spicy. We had too much fun.
- We had a “Wing Leader.”
- We had dragon mounts, mating bonds, and hot sauce dripping onto Kindles.
- We wrote the kind of fake TV spots that would either get us hired or sued.
I pitched it to friends. To coworkers. To my mother-in-law over Christmas dinner (she did not get it). But the girlies? The girlies got it. They quoted it. They wanted merch. They were the target.
And so, we did the thing. We sent it cold to the CMO of BWW. No warning. No shame. Just wings, spice, and shadow lords in PDF form.
He read it. He emailed back. He laughed.
No budget. No greenlight. But a very kind note.
Which, honestly, is more than most fae males give you.
Consumer Insight: It’s Me. Hi.
I didn’t write this to say “follow your passion.” I wrote this to say: follow your delusion.
At some point, I stopped laughing and thought:
Wait—I’m the consumer. I would like this. Why isn’t anyone doing it?
The best ideas don’t always come from briefs or strategy decks. Sometimes they come from a night with friends and a bottle of wine. From a line that makes you scream, “WAIT. That’s actually good.”
Most of the time, we pitch because it’s part of the job. Other times, you're just a little obsessed with emotionally stunted fictional bird men—and you need to honor that.
So give yourself (and your team) permission to be totally unhinged. Be chaotic. Be the woman who sends a cold pitch about faerie sex to a national chain known for wall-mounted TVs.
Worst case? Nothing happens.
Best case? You remember why this job is actually fun.
Girls like spice. Girls like wings.
And girls like making the kind of work that gets their friends texting: “WAIT. You really sent this?”
Yes. Yes I did. And I’d do it again.
Spare Change is an ongoing series exploring the unexpected influences that shape how we work, think, and create. Want to share your own "spare change" moment or learn more about how diverse perspectives fuel our approach at Civilization? We'd love to hear from you. Reach out at [email protected].
