Saturday, November 29, 2008
Our first child, Maggie, doesn't seem that impressed with her Bounty bags. But maybe she should be. Sadly, they weren't filled with Bounty bars. But they were filled with goodies for her and her mum and dad, nonetheless. Free goodies.
They were delivered to Thea's hospital bedside when Maggie was just two days old. I think you'd get them even if you had a natural birth then went home. Your midwife would bring them.
In our case, little Maggie had been in the Breech position and we didn't want to put her or Mum through the pain, possible distress and probable failure of trying to move Tummy Thompson upside down (the right way up.) So Thea had a c-section and was kept in hospital for three days after the birth, hence the immediate Bounty bags.
The cynical among you might think it's a fantastic way to hook you on to certain products from birth. Or, you might just think it's a nice little delivery to receive after your bundle of joy arrives.
I know Thea had already bought, or received from friends, almost every conceivable baby product, so I don't think we've even touched any of our creams or nappies or washing up liquids yet.
But all the goodies spread out on the floor do make a nice picture. Particularly as it gives me a great excuse to show you, dear copy fan, some pictures of the best work I'll ever create: my daughter Maggie.
With all the old models smashed to smithereens and everyone wondering what the future of creative marketing holds, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that you don't have to wait to find out; the future of advertising is already here.
In fact, the future has been around for a while, though perhaps not in this country.
Back in 1993, a young scallywag eager to break into the world of the advertising creative, I glimpsed what I knew to be the future in one of the world's most exciting megatropolises in the world. No, not New York or Tokyo, but Cairo, Egypt.
Not exactly where you'd expected to discover advertising's cutting edge. But the sheer genius, simplicity and selling power of what I saw has stayed with me ever since. Its implications for advertising creativity were too terrible for my young mind to contemplate at the time, and I've buried this memory for 15 years. But two ads on telly in the past week brought this epipheny flooding back. More of those ads in a bit.
They don't do 72 sheets in Cairo. They do posters much, much bigger. Imagine a white space the size of building filled not by a Nike sponsored athlete kicking or saving a giant football or a giant sized celebrity. No. What I saw was a photo of an ironing board the size of the Cairo museum, accompanied by a price tag.
That's it. No clever line. No fancy photography. A product. And a price (I'm assuming the information on where to find this ironing board at that price was the small Arabic print at the bottom of the ad.)
And what else do you really need to shift a product? How often do you buy anything without knowing the price? In fact, isn't the price one of the, if not the most important, detail?
I'd love to know the results of a study that measured how many UK ads back in 1993 featured prices, compared to how many UK ads feature prices now.
I'd say price tags were all the rage. And as ever, it's not what you do, it's the way that you do it. So come on, get creative with those price tags. And you don't have to just paste them on next to your product; so far they've been doinked and they've been pinged.
PINGED PRICE TAGS
DOINKED PRICE TAGS
What will you do with your price tags?