Archives: Direct Mail

The linen brochure

Linen brochure

Everything I’ve read or heard about direct marketing emphasises the importance of having good quality data; if you don’t have accurate information about your target prospects then you’re simply firing off blindly, more in hope than any real expectation of striking sales success. At the very least, DM campaigns should aim to get the names and addresses of the recipients correct as nobody likes seeing their name misspelt; when it comes to making a good first impression with potential customers, not knowing what they are called is a big handicap.

On that score, this brochure that came in the post from a linen retailer is a massive fail. I’m not sure how we ended up on their list nor when but, regardless, their marketing collateral keeps turning up, the name of the addressee hopelessly misspelt, not even close. Moreover, the fact that these items keep on arriving, regardless of whether or not we respond to them (ie there are no coupons or individual offers to track response rates) suggests the retailer has no way of determining whether or not the DM is actually working, or if it is, which parts are more successful than others.

But you know what? It doesn’t really matter. That’s because all the money and the effort has gone into producing the collateral. And it shows. It looks gorgeous; precisely sculptured pictures of pillows and doonas, all swooningly still and serene. It makes me feel sleepy just looking at it. Apart from a couple of pages of colour, most of it is in white, along with about fifty shades of grey, against a backdrop of the deepest pitch black (pretty impressive for what appears to be a digital print job).

I’m continually amazed that items such as this turn up in the mail box, unbidden, unpaid, seeking my attention; 16 pages in total, nice stock, beautifully printed, full bleed, stapled, great photography – all free.

People talk about how ‘print is dead’ but really this is a golden age of print; 10, 15 years ago, something like this simply wasn’t possible – or if it was, it would have been prohibitively expensive. Now they’re giving it away.

Some DM items tick all the right boxes, making sure the data is accurate, including some sort of response mechanism, maybe linking to a PURL, ensuring the offer is relevant and targeted to my needs etc (I don’t buy many beauty products, for instance, but can’t get enough wine offers) but, in the end, all this work is let down because the actual print item is crap – boring layout, dull photographs, written by the work experience kid and cheaply printed on shit stock.

The print still matters, even if it is instantly recycled and forgotten. Just assuming that it will be thrown out is a guarantee of failure. Creating something that people might actually want to look at from an aesthetic, not just a commercial, perspective is a good place to begin.

And yes, we do still go and buy our soft stuff from this store even though they don’t know who we are.

shredded paper

The toast direct mail

No toast
A world without toast

No toast. Toast. No toast. Toast! Let’s try that again. Ready now…. No toast. Toast! It’s brilliant – direct mail advertising that works like a Play School game. No toast…. Toast!

The hardest part of direct mail is actually getting people to read the stuff. Getting it in the post box is easy; that just requires a bit of planning and some money. But how to get people to actually open and take note of your lovingly-crafted DM offer? The end bit is always rather hit and miss.

What if it arrives on the same day as a particularly nasty electricity bill (damn that new battery-powered car) or the news that, regrettably, your application to become a High Court judge has been refused? Not much chance then of getting in a sideways word about a great deal on duvet covers. Even if it arrives in the same post as an unexpected letter from your favourite aunt which includes a $50 note simply because you’re a wonderful person and she adores you, the chances are that any DM offer, no matter how brilliantly designed and wittily phrased, will appear rather small beer in comparison.

So what to do? This example resorts to a simple fort-da activity involving toast. On the front page, there is a picture of a toaster and an empty plate. This is the world without toast although, teasingly, there is the prospect of toast (mind you, I’m so dim that when I first looked at it, even with the presence of a toaster and an empty plate, I never for a moment suspected the imminent arrival of toast. How dumb is that?). Open up the fold and there’s the toast, flying into the sky at great speed, presumably coming back down to earth to land on the still-empty plate. That’s the world with toast. See? No toast. Toast!

Toast!
A world with toast.

Obviously, the idea of the DM piece is to get us to recognise the benefits of living in a world with toast. The tagline on the front page invites us to ‘Wake up to a great rate every day’ and then suggests this is something to do with having toast pop out of the toaster every morning, although, quite frankly, if my toaster behaved like that every day, strewing crumbs around the kitchen, then it would quickly find itself on a one-way trip to the back lane.

Apart from that, there’s another problem I foresee. Now I like toast. I do. I had some toast this morning. But every day? Hmmm, I’m not sure about that one. I think I could quickly tire of toast and, hence, of living in a world with toast. How about a world of muesli? If I have to wake up to something every day (and, let’s face it, I really should) then I’d rather it was the sun shining, the lack of a hangover and the sweet recollection of a dream in which I am awarded the Nobel Prize for Beach Fishing.

More confusingly, if you open up the complete brochure, what you see inside is a picture of a self-satisfied man reading the racing form or the financials who appears to be EATING MUFFINS. How wrong is that? What happened to the world with toast we were promised? And why can’t we have what he’s having?

So you see, designing these direct mail pieces is fraught with danger and should only ever be attempted by highly-skilled practitioners.

shredded paper

The wine club direct mail

Wine club brochure

I love the mailings I get from the wine club. I received one recently that was really well-written, just the right pitch, not too serious and definitely not the usual marketing guff. That takes skill, and it worked for me. They even included a $50 voucher so naturally I spent it plus some more. It just goes to show that while everybody goes on about the importance of having accurate data in DM pieces, content and a good offer will win out every time. I don’t care if they spell my name incorrectly (which they don’t) if the deal is right.

Anyway, this is the latest one – uncoated stock which I like and the heady bouquet of offset ink – vintage stuff. It’s a generous glass-full as well on a sheet measuring 320x420mm which, as far as I can tell, doesn’t match any standard formats. It’s quite nice to see something which is not bog-standard A4. Very giving. An amazing print production really for the purposes of selling plonk.

Personalisation is minimal – they use my first name which is about it – but, as mentioned, that’s not the attraction. They know how much wine I drink too, which is a secret best kept between the two of us, and the fact that I like it cheap. Will I buy any more? Maybe, if only to ensure I keep getting the mail-outs.

shredded paper