CAMPAIGNS THAT SHOOK CULTURE
Because creativity can still be revolutionary.
This month, we launched Campaigns We Love—a new series celebrating the kind of work that reminds us what creativity is capable of when it dares to question power rather than worship it.
What turns an ad into a cultural moment?
It's not the budget. It’s not the media plan.
It's the courage to say something real — to hold up a mirror to the world and make us see it in a different light.
At We Hate Pink, we don't celebrate brands for being loud.
We celebrate the ideas that make noise mean something — the ones that rewrite the rules, shift conversations, and turn marketing into a form of cultural resistance.
Below are five campaigns that did exactly that — proof that creativity, when unafraid, can shake the world a little.
Nike — If You Let Me Play
Before “brand activism” was a buzzword, Nike handed the mic to young girls. Real voices, not polished soundbites. Real data, not empty slogans. It wasn't just an ad; it was a statement — a challenge to every system that told girls to stay quiet or small.
Why it matters:
It changed how we viewed sports, how we discussed girls, and how brands could represent something without seeking applause.
Beats by Dre — You Love Me
In a haunting, visually arresting film directed by Melina Matsoukas and narrated by Tobe Nwigwe, "You Love Me" reflects America's complex relationship with Black culture — and its often-neglected Black lives. Featuring Naomi Osaka, Lil Baby, Bubba Wallace, and Janaya Future Khan, the campaign refuses the easy language of diversity marketing. Instead, it delivers a question that echoes long after viewing: “You love Black culture — but do you love me?”
Why it matters:
It's a campaign that doesn't sell — it confronts.
By rejecting performance activism and centring truth, You Love Me exposes the hypocrisy of a system that profits from Black creativity while ignoring Black suffering.
It's not an ad — it's a reckoning. A cultural intervention that redefines what brand responsibility can look like when it stops speaking about people and starts talking to them.
Always — #LikeAGirl
A phrase once meant to wound became a global cry of pride. Always turned an insult into empowerment by asking a simple, devastating question: When did “like a girl” become an insult?
Why it matters:
It broke the algorithm before we called it that — changing language, perception, and the self-esteem of a generation.
Liquid Death — Entertainment as Rebellion
A can of water, wrapped in absurdity, became a billion-dollar uprising. Liquid Death didn't sell hydration — it sold disruption. It mocked the system while playing it perfectly.
Why it matters:
It proved that rebellion sells when it's real, when it comes from instinct, not from strategy decks.
Rolling Stones — Rockin' Mamas
In a loud, unapologetic ode to invisible labour, Rockin’ Mamas turns motherhood into a headlining act. Directed by Ali Ali, the film swaps guitars for baby bottles and tour buses for kitchens, portraying mothers as the real rock stars of everyday life. It’s gritty, rhythmic, and refreshingly unsentimental — a rebellion against the polished, pastel version of motherhood so often seen in advertising.
Why it matters:
Because it reframes care work as power, not burden, by placing domestic chaos on the same stage as cultural icons, Rolling Stone makes motherhood visible, loud, and worthy of applause. It's not just a campaign — it's a power chord struck against the silence that usually surrounds women's unpaid labour.
These campaigns remind us why we fell in love with this work in the first place.
Because creativity can confront power, language, and systems — and still evoke emotions in people.
This is what we mean when we say revolution starts in the brief and with a diverse team.