Advertising the Family Way : Campaigns spotlighting the faces behind familiar names are hot.

When Sara Lee Lubin was growing up she took a lot of grief from the kids at school. After all, they knew that she was the Sara Lee--the girl whose father named his pound cake after her.

“The boys all had a field day with it,” recalls Sara Lee, 48, who is now married and goes by the name Sara Lee Schups.

When Wendy Thomas was a youngster she took a lot of ribbing, too. Her dad saw to it that her freckled face and pigtails were plastered over all the spinning signs and hamburger wrappers at Wendy’s hamburger chain.

“I’ve taken my share of abuse,” said Wendy, 28, who is married and now known as Wendy Morse. “There used to be all kinds of jokes about me and Ronald McDonald. Just let your mind wander.”

But the joke’s not on Sara Lee or Wendy anymore. Thanks to the wizards of Madison Avenue, both of them may soon be more than household names. They will also be household faces on our TV sets. Last week, a series of new ads for Sara Lee Bakery--starring the real Sara Lee reminiscing about her father--began to appear on TV. And next month, Wendy Morse will make her TV debut when her voice is featured in a Wendy’s TV ad. Eventually, she is also expected to appear alongside her father, the chain’s founder R. David Thomas, in Wendy’s commercials.

The world of advertising is flaunting family values as never before. And advertising experts say there is no better way for companies to persuade consumers that they share these same basic values than by placing their own family members in front of the camera.

“This is a new wrinkle in the back-to-the-family syndrome,” said Henry Assael, chairman of the marketing department of the Stern School of Business at New York University. “The most important thing is for the person to come across as sincere and credible.”

In that vein, Sara Lee and Wendy’s have plenty of company. The owner of Zacky Farms poultry recently decided to make his wife, Lillian, a radio spokeswoman for his El Monte-based firm. And last year, a new face also began to appear in TV ads next to popcorn magnate Orville Redenbacher--his 34-year-old grandson, Gary.

“This is not ego driven, it is research driven,” said Leonard Pearlstein, president of the Los Angeles ad agency, Keye/Donna/Pearlstein. “Consumers like to see that it is real people who are making real products--not synthetic people making synthetic products.”

Over the next year, the makers of Sara Lee will spend more than $20 million to persuade consumers that, yes, there really is a Sara Lee. One TV commercial, created by the New York office of the Chiat/Day agency, even features old home movies of Sara Lee and her father, Charles W. Lubin, cutting her birthday cake.

“When Charlie passed away last year, we were looking for a way to keep the family involved in the company,” said Patrick Costello, president of the retail division of Sara Lee. “Although he sold Sara Lee years ago, he always remained interested in it.”

Sara Lee Schups, who is a homemaker in Connecticut, said the company approached her with the idea for the new campaign at its annual meeting last year. “My children were sitting at the table with me and they were so excited about it, they couldn’t stand it,” she said.

The commercials were all filmed without scripts. They both end with a portion of the familiar ad slogan, “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee,” but instead of actually stating her name, they simply show her smiling face.

“When I go to the grocery store, I make sure to tell the manager when he’s out of certain Sara Lee products. But I never tell him who I am,” Schups said. “He’s going to be mighty surprised when he sees the commercials.”

For Wendy Morse, life changed drastically at the age of 8, when her father decided to name his hamburger business after her. Actually, her real name is Melinda. Wendy is just a nickname that her brothers and sisters gave her. But when her father needed a name and logo for his hamburger stand, he took Wendy down to a local sign painter in Columbus who drew her picture--freckles and all.

Her father says the concept of using his daughter Wendy in the logo--and himself in the commercials--is a good one. “Consumers are interested in the people who have the real responsibilities at a company,” said Thomas, founder of Wendy’s. “They don’t want to see actors with no responsibilities.”

For about six months, Thomas has been referring to his daughter, Wendy, in TV commercials. During that period, the interest in the yet-to-be-seen Wendy has grown so great that the company has decided to toy with this “mystique” for awhile before Wendy shows her face on TV.

In a commercial scheduled to be filmed later this month, Wendy’s voice--but not her face--will be aired for the first time. In the ad, she’ll be telling her father--who is fumbling atop a ladder inside a Wendy’s store--how to rearrange the menu board. The company is mum on when Wendy, herself, will actually appear in its ads.

“I’d love to do it--just to harass my dad,” joked Wendy Morse, who helps manage a golf course in Columbia, S. C. “I’d probably get a lot of grief, but I’ve learned how to deal with that.”

She said most people don’t know that there really is a Wendy. And while she still has red hair and freckles, she looks nothing like the youngster plastered all over Wendy’s merchandise. “When little kids meet me they get very confused,” she said. “I’m not the kid on the sign any more.”

Wendy said she’d be only too happy to appear in future ads with her father. She says it would help to separate Wendy’s from big chains such as McDonald’s and Burger King. “Ronald McDonald is just a clown. He’s not a real person,” Morse said. “I like to see who’s really behind a company--besides a factory.”

At Zacky Farms, that is precisely how Chief Executive Albert Zacky feels. But he doesn’t have enough free time to appear in commercials. So about a year ago, he asked his 54-year-old wife, Lillian, if she would appear in radio ads.

She said yes. “In every commercial, I say it’s a family-owned business, and that really hits people,” Lillian Zacky said. “People know there’s someone behind the product who cares.”

The radio ads all feature various tales about Lillian persuading unsuspecting people to buy Zacky Farms products--but never revealing her name to them. “Most of those stories are made up,” she admits, “but there have been times at the grocery store when I’ve helped people pick out chickens--and you can bet they’re always Zacky Farms’.”

Perhaps one of the most familiar product pitchmen in recent years is Orville Redenbacher, whose popcorn is among the top sellers in the nation. Last year, grandson, Gary joined him in the ads.

“They know I’m not going to last forever,” said the 82-year-old Redenbacher. “I wanted someone to carry on the name.”

The problem is, all of his children are female, married and no longer have the last name Redenbacher. So, he shook the family tree and found a grandson, Gary Fish, who resembles Grandpa Orville. Gary, who is a law student living in San Francisco, even changed his last name to Redenbacher. In the ads, Gary is dressed much like his grandfather--including the dark-rimmed glasses and bow tie with polka dots.

These days, the two don’t even use scripts in the commercials. They just talk about popcorn while the cameras roll. This week, they are scheduled to film seven more ads on their new, lower-calorie microwave popcorn.

“I think people look at our ads and say to themselves, ‘Gee, that’s the kind of relationship I had with my grandfather,’ ” Gary Redenbacher said.

Sometimes, that feisty relationship they share gets a bit too racy for the company’s ad agency, Ketchum Advertising. One commercial filmed nearly a year ago--which happens to be Gary’s personal favorite--still has never aired. In the ad-libbed commercial, Orville tries to explain to Gary the difference between male and female kernels.

“How can you tell the difference?” Gary poses.

Responds Grandpa Orville, “You just turn them over and look.”

Keye/Donna/Pearlstein Has New Creative Chief

At any agency, it is the creative director who is ultimately responsible for the look of its ads.

This is an especially critical position at agencies recognized as creative “hot shops”--producers of consistently top-quality ads. Last week, Keye/Donna/Pearlstein, which has lost several important clients in the past year--including the Suzuki automotive ad business--decided it was time for a change. The agency placed a new creative director at the helm.

Paul Keye, who has held the title of creative director since he co-founded the ad agency in 1969, has let go of that title and its responsibilities, although he will remain as chairman. Replacing Keye, 60, as creative director of the Los Angeles office is Marcus Kemp, 38, who most recently was associate creative director and senior vice president of the New York ad agency Ammirati & Puris.

At Ammirati & Puris, Kemp mostly worked on the agency’s BMW business and created the “Ultimate Tanning Machine” slogan and campaign. He formerly worked on the Gallo wine account at San Francisco-based Hal Riney & Partners, and also created a number of those humorous Alaska Airlines ads at the Seattle ad firm, Livingston & Co.

His first mission at Keye/Donna/Pearlstein will be to help the agency land an automotive advertiser to replace Suzuki. “We have a huge hole left by Suzuki,” Keye said.

Can Kemp help fill that hole? “Los Angeles has become a major automotive ad market, and that will only grow,” Kemp said. “Besides, I’m a car enthusiast.”

Of course, Kemp may eventually have to change the brand of car that he drives. He plans to bring his BMW to California with him. But with all the Japanese car advertisers located out here, Kemp said, “I may have to trade it in one of these days.”

Graffiti Fills the Bill for Herradura Tequila

It looks like graffiti. It reads like graffiti. And it is even placed in a spot where graffiti is often found--a billboard.

But this is not graffiti. It’s an outdoor advertising campaign for Herradura Tequila. The advertising slogan “Herradura Tequila . . . Bad, Bad, Bad Boys” has been spray painted across seemingly empty billboards throughout Southern California and Texas. The billboards each say on them, “This space for rent,” and display the toll-free number 800-888-8475.

Those calling the number hear a recorded voice that states: “Hey, you’re calling because you thought that space was for rent. But you’ve been beaten out by Herradura Tequila.” The recording then asks callers to leave their name and address to receive more information on Herradura.

Since the campaign--created by the ad agency Wells, Rich, Greene-- began in mid-June, the company has received many thousands of calls. And so far, there haven’t been any complaints, said John Oliver, director of public relations at Seagram, the U.S. marketing arm for Herradura Tequila.

The campaign is not an attempt to glorify graffiti, Oliver said. “If you’re trying to reach someone who is not a 55-year-old golfer, this is the way to do it,” Oliver said. “As far as we’re concerned, this campaign is right on the money.”