Before 1997, before bellette was even a thing, I was working for other media companies, selling airtime, ads, and what I now know was a broken idea.
Everyone was an “expert.” Agencies full of buzzwords, all talking about top of mind awareness . That was the holy grail. ROI wasn’t a word anyone wanted to hear.
You just threw money at it and hoped it stuck. It drove me nuts.
I couldn’t keep selling something that didn’t work, so I went looking for answers.
That’s when the early days of bellette began. I was knee-deep in creating ads - fast, rough, full of trial and error. We’d be out there at 7 a.m. , camera in hand, filming Greg Neck trying to get his lines out while Chris stood off to the side giving him a hard time every time he messed one up, it was raw, loud, and full of life.
Those mornings were pure Territory chaos, but they taught me something important. You could see what worked. You could watch the ads go live, see people walk through the doors, buy the product, and walk out smiling.
That was real ROI , a feeling that what you created actually mattered. That’s what drove me in those early days of bellette, chasing that same sense of return.
When I spoke about that idea to new clients, it felt hollow.
ROI sounded like a pitch line, it wasn't a purpose. I knew it meant something, I just didn’t have the anchor yet. Not until later, when a book in a bargain bin set me straight.
Every weekend I’d wander into Dymocks, back when Bev Ellis owned it in the Alice Plaza, and dig through the bargain bin looking for answers. Old marketing books, sales guides, psychology reads — anything I could get my hands on. Then one day, buried deep in the pile, I found a little purple book by Seth Godin — Purple Cow.
Inside was a line that stopped me cold: “You’re either remarkable or invisible. Make your product worth talking about, or you’ll fade away.” That was it. That was the spark.
It made me realise that everyone, no matter who they are or what they do, should be famous for what they do. Not famous for shouting louder, but for being remarkable.
That’s where bellette really began.
Back then it was just Kate, Bear, and me, late nights, caffeine, and pure stubbornness in a one-bedroom flat on Undoolya Road. Then many years later came Jim and Fred, who’ve grown up right in the middle of it all.
Over the years, plenty of people have said, “I don’t get it.” Even a few old bellette crew couldn’t see it. But it’s stuck. Every part of me still wants to do this, to make the world see you, know you, and understand what makes you remarkable.
Like Shrek says, “Ogres are like onions, they have layers.”
So do people. So do brands.
The first ten years of bellette were all about ROI - Return on Investment.
We helped retailers measure what worked, what sold, and what didn’t.
But as bellette grew, so did the meaning. Now ROI means Return on Impact.
These days, we work with councils, NGOs, and government organisations, helping them show the difference they make. Because when you run a great council, deliver services that matter, or do something that changes lives - you should be known for it.
Many years later too, Jim and Fred are famous in their own right, which I’m not sure they enjoy. But just like the tagline, the world knows them for who they are and what they bring to the world.
Jim brings the dangerous curiosity, seeing the detail others miss.
Fred brings the quirky creative, unfiltered, and full of spark.
Together they balance each other out, just like the best in brothers should do. But not because of me, but because they’ve become the living embodiment of it. They’re proof that being famous isn’t about followers or noise, it’s about being known for what you bring to the table, and doing it with purpose.
That’s what we do.
We don’t just make stuff.
We make you known.
We make you seen.
We make you famous.
Because it’s not about us
It’s about you.
You do something well. You make a difference.
And we’ll make sure the world knows it.
Here’s to the next chapter of bellette , still chasing the purple cow, still making the good ones famous. Nearly three decades on, and we’re just getting started.