Stick it in a box, that’ll be a good idea. Or make it a 3D
You know the sort of thing: a pop-up parrot or a plastic encapsulated
banana. That’ll have impact. And why not make it a hand-tooled leather
box? Or even an ever so stylish brushed aluminium one? And while we’re
at it, let’s fill it with that packaging straw stuff. That’ll stand
No actually, it bloody won’t!
What am I on about? Those rotten business-to-business mailings which
substitute thinking for fiddly, gimmicky, production-rich, showy-offy
bollocks. That’s what.
Literal show-and-tell executions that if they were printed ads wouldn’t
even get off the layout pad belonging to the most junior team
But they seem to pervade the murky world of business-to-business direct
mail. And I bloody hate them.
But where do they come from? Who do we need to pillory? To drum out of
town naked with fetid fruit hanging around their necks? Direct marketing
agencies? Sales promotion agencies? Media neutral holisticy bollocky
new-age ideas bistros? No. I’m sad to say that on the whole, the main
culprits appear to be the ’traditional advertising’ agencies gamefully
having a go at the strange and secret craft of ’postal advertising’, or
whatever they call it.
Well, let me tell you Mr Johnny Ponytail Groucho Club bloke, it won’t
wash. Leave it alone. You’ve been rumbled.
For years and years the stuff that wins the yellow pencils in the
directy-type categories has inevitably been some hand-carved ivory dildo
affair packed in a velvet-lined Asprey leather box. Which, granted, may
look extremely nice and may have cost the equivalent of Belize’s GDP,
but has no idea behind it.
You know, ideas. Those things that make UK advertising the best in the
sodding world. Those things that, according to the great Mr Abbott,
’it’s all about’. Those things that creative types painfully try and
generate by some weird mystical alchemy involving fine Burgundy, foie
gras and lager.
Come on Mr Advertising, if you’re going to bombard my desk, put some
real ideas on it and not some boxy and poxy half-cocked self-indulgent
Unless, of course, I can drink it.