So Copycam it is.

Realising that I was heading straight for the scrap-heap of mobile telephony, I traded in my Nokia N73 for a shiny new all-singing, all-dancing HTC Desire. It boasts a Snapdragon 1GHz processor, a 3.7″ AMOLED screen and Android 2.2. And all topped off with a don’t-mess-with-me 16GB Micro SD memory card.

Because you can never be too rich, too thin, or have too much memory.

And maybe, just maybe, I was the teensiest bit influenced by HTC’s cutesy line: You don’t need to get a phone. You need a phone that gets you.

It got me.

I got it.

With all that free memory, I’ve been happily snapping left, right and centre with the Desire’s nifty 5MP camera.

So what’s been on the other side of the lens?

Smile and the world smiles with you

Buying things is scary. There’s too much choice, you have to talk to new people, and you have to part with your hard-earned cash.

So you’re already out of your comfort zone. We all feel like that when we’re the buyer, so why is it we so rarely remember it when we’re the seller?

One of the best ways of making people feel comfortable in a buying situation is humour. It breaks the ice and makes people smile. It gives them a reason to use you and not somebody else.

And that’s all they need.

In a busy street in Cambridge with more cafes than you could shake a wooden spoon at, I was stopped in my tracks by this sign:

Builder’s breakfast.

Everything you need to clog your arteries – including the gloriously-horrible-but-actually-quite-scrumptious black pudding. And all for a lip-smacking £7.60.

Not only that. It also has a perfectly placed apostrophe, at no extra charge.

I stopped, I smiled, I snapped.

Now I’m more a light veggie than a brickie brekkie, but even I was tempted.  It was 3pm, so I wasn’t that tempted, but the sign had the desired effect.

I’d struggle to name the other eateries in that street. But Orange Tree, with its decidedly playful approach, has stuck in my mind.

Next time I need an organic latte and a dolphin-friendly muffin, I know where to go.

Lesson 1: you’re never too big, important or professional to deploy a helping of humour (and the bigger you are, the more effective it is).

The cat sat on the… rug

I may have left my N73 behind, but that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned the brand.

Like somebody who wonders what an old flame is up to, I sometimes stare into the middle distance and remember the happy times.

And in the middle distance just down the road from the Copy Unlimited nerve centre, I spotted this:

No, I didn’t think it worked either. And I don’t mean the dodgy focus (a curved picture plane is my defence, though my newbie status may have something to do with it).

Snaps. Apps.

You know what should come next, don’t you? And it’s certainly not chats.

It either rhymes or it doesn’t. It either works or it doesn’t.

And this doesn’t do either.

Lesson 2: if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Think of something else (before they do). 

Final countdown

As the recession bites, companies are downsizing, rationalising and consolidating. And that means closing and merging branches.

Much as Currys did recently in Cambridge.  Its city-centre store was on the hitlist, as it consolidated its operations at a PC World/Currys megastore in a nearby retail park.

(You did know they were owned by the same people, didn’t you? Choice is often the illusion of choice.)

So, the city-centre store. They needed to shift their stock, so they created a sense of scarcity (see my last post) and looming deadlines.

But in their rush, they forgot where apostrophes go. They obviously don’t eat at the Orange Tree Café.

Perhaps they were led astray by their own apostrophe-less name. That’s part of a wider trend when it comes to business names in the UK. Just look at Barclays, Selfridges and Debenhams. In the US, Macy’s and Bloomingdale’s still stick doggedly to the apostrophe, defending good old-fashioned values.

It should, of course, have been 5 days’ time. In fact, strictly speaking, it should have been five days’ time, as the convention in English is to write in full the numbers one to nine, and use figures for 10 and above.

That said, in a countdown, figures work best. But the apostrophe still hurt.

Two days later, I walked past the store, in the vain hope that some literate customer had pointed out the error.

Not a bit of it. They were too busy pushing past grannies and young children to bag a deal at 20% off.

3 day’s time, it said.

I thought it would be too sad (and OCD-ish) to make a date in my diary for two days later, to see the magical 1 day’s time.

But I was tempted.

Lesson 3: if in doubt, don’t leave it out. Just look it up.

Find out more:

• Snap dragon. Great photos – and it makes calls too. The HTC Desire gets you. Get it (or at least its successor, the Desire S).

Related posts:

1. Misplaced humour, unintended meaning and dodgy punctuation
2. Humour in copywriting: does it work?

I’ve been happy-snapping again.

It’s a bit like happy-slapping, but nobody really gets hurt – at least not physically. Wounded pride might come into it, but it’s all in a good cause.

That’s right – it’s Copycam time again.

Fair game

I’m often asked about humour in copy. Some clients think it’s the way to go.

And it is. As long as the humour is at your expense. Nothing endears you to your potential prospects and existing customers like a bit of self-deprecation. Laughing at yourself is a winning formula.

But laughing at others isn’t. So if you feel a smile breaking out when you create any piece of marketing collateral, stop.

And think.

As LA Fitness should have done before they launched this ill-advised campaign to hit the Christmas splurgers.

Join the church of LA Fitness? Repent your Christmas sins?

What were they thinking of?

Do they really imagine that fitness fanatics and Christians are mutually exclusive groups? And would they have done the same thing around Muslim, Jewish or Hindu feasts?

Lesson 1: laugh at your own expense – never at your clients’.

In a class of its own

Have you ever written something you didn’t mean to?

I have. It happens to all of us.

When you write it, you think it’s perfectly clear. And then suddenly, it isn’t. Somebody points it out, and it’s as if you’d never seen it before.

How could I have been so stupid? you ask yourself.

Simple. We develop blind spots. We make mental leaps. We see what we want to see.

Which is why it’s always a good idea to leave anything you write and come back to it later – next morning, after the weekend, after you’ve had a double skinny choccacino with wings.

And perhaps with an extra shot of coffee in the case of the signmakers who created this gem for Santander’s branch in central Cambridge.

Santander University? Last time I looked, that was in northern Spain.

It’s a simple mistake that could easily have been avoided with a little more attention to detail. Which is what you get when you take a break, and look at something afresh.

Lesson 2:  to say what you mean, first slow down. It’s always faster in the long run.

Make my day, punctuation

Like most scribblers, I’m a stickler for punctuation. I have a loaded red pen and I’m not afraid to use it.

You may remember a while back I wrote about the wonderfully entitled “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotes.

Unnecessary quote hang around words like delinquents on a street corner. They shouldn’t really be there, but nobody can quite bring themselves to get rid of them.

And it appears they’re cross-cultural. Just recently, I saw this wonderful example in Cambridge’s funky Mill Road:

So it’s a spoof notice? They’re not really wanted? They’re wanted for something that isn’t really kitchen duties (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)? They’re unwanted?

Quotation marks are for quotes. It’s simple, really.

And exclamation marks? They’re for exclamations. But you should use them sparingly, because JUST LIKE CAPITALS, they have a tendency to shout at readers.

They really shout! And if you use more than one, they shout louder!!!

That’s why newspaper sub-editors call them screamers.

But occasionally, just occasionally, you can misuse them to good effect.

As Japanese chain YO! Sushi has recently (note that exclamation mark). This is what I saw in the window of their newly opened Cambridge restaurant:

Did the hackles of my inner pedant rise?

Not a bit of it. Instead, I smiled broadly and thought how clever it was. It refers directly back to their logo and is cheeky, playful and eye-catching.

More to the point, it’s entirely deliberate.

It’s a completely new way to use exclamation marks. It’s! Fresh! It! Works! (OK, now, that’s quite enough.)

Lesson 3: learn the rules. Then break them.

Find out more:

• Say it like you mean it: The “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotes

Related posts:

1. Humour, poetry and wandering apostrophes
2. Humour in copywriting: does it work?

All revved up for 2011? Good.

To get you going, here are just a few New Year ideas to kick-start your marketing, thanks to my trusty Nokia and good old serendipity.

Yes – it’s Copycam time again.

Run the numbers

Did you buy anything in the sales?

And what was it that made you rush out to the shops at the crack of dawn and jostle your way to the front of the queue? The weather? The great service? The indomitable Christmas spirit? The raging hangover?

No, of course not. It was the pricing. It’s always the pricing, stupid. 30% off. 50% off. Up to 90% off! (Yeah, right.)

Nothing, but nothing, gets us out of bed like a bargain. Or makes us take action right here, right now. Slap a cut-off date on the bargain and the frenzy increases.

But the numbers need to stack up for people to take action.  A while back, I noticed this sign in the changing room at my gym:

So it’s £15 for a small locker, and £20 for a large locker for one month.

A bit steep, you might think. But you’d probably also think they’d have an incentive to get people to sign up for longer. Like mobile phone contracts do – or just about any other type of contract you can think of.

So let’s see. 6 x £15, anyone? Oh yes, that would be £90. And 12 x £15? That’s right – £180.

Same story with the large lockers. 6 x £20 = £120. 12 x £20 = £240.

Genius. So the incentive is… absolutely nothing.

People expect commitment to translate into rewards. Why sign up for 12 months instead of six when the money could be earning interest in your account rather than the gym’s?

The pricing should be a no-brainer. But in this case, it’s just brainless.

Lesson 1: when it comes to pricing, longer is cheaper. Always. Or, put another way, 6 x £20 is never £120. It just isn’t.

To add or not to add – VAT is the question

Last time, I talked about the opportunities and threats for companies of the VAT (value-added tax) increase from 17.5% to 20% at the start of the month.

Gyms seem (see above, and below) to be a lost cause when it comes to running the numbers. But not all fitness-related businesses are.

As I fought the crowds of swivel-eyed shoppers in central Cambridge, I saw a sign that warmed the cockles of my marketing heart:

Clever old Sports Direct.

So they’re still charging VAT at 17.5%? No, of course they aren’t. They’re charging 20% like everybody else and absorbing the difference.

Which makes a difference.

The store was packed with grateful shoppers who were getting a double whammy – reduced prices and reduced tax.

Lesson 2: feel the pain. Then the gain.

All change, please!

Then it was down to London for a playdate with my culture buddy S at the Royal Academy. (Haven’t seen The Glasgow Boys? Hurry – it closes on 23 January. And if you can’t make that, check out this clip on the BBC 2 site. )

But wait a moment – what’s this? The train pulled in to an unfamiliar part of King’s Cross station, at a platform I’d never seen before.

No, don’t get too excited: it wasn’t Platform 9¾. That’s right down the other end, through the brick wall, and leads straight to the Hogwarts Express.

But it was almost as unusual:

Isn’t that wonderful? A master-stroke of marketing.

Months of banging, drilling, cutting and scooping and they unveil a platform with the catchiest number ever. Everybody was talking about it.

Some people even took photos – well I did, together with a few trainspotting saddos with dirty anoraks and knobbly cable-knits. But still, you get the point.

It was new. It was news. It was inspired.

And yet it wasn’t always the plan. Originally, apparently, it was going to be called Platform Y.

Not so inspired. Y chromosome. Y-fronts. Why?

Obviously the planners asked themselves the same question, thought a bit about it, and came up with a simple, effective and… obvious solution.

Lesson 3: make a virtue of a necessity. And never ignore the obvious.

Clitch after clitch after clitch

Every New Year I play the game. And every year, there’s a winner, without fail.

Sometimes  they don’t even wait for 1 January. Last year, I spotted the winning entry on 28 December.

And the aim of the game? The first outing of the perennial seasonal cliché: New Year, New You.

This year, the prize went to Optical Express:

But they only just won. For hot on their heels, just 10 minutes later, I spotted this:

Bad, right?

Well not necessarily. You see, at this time of year, even clichés have their place.  Let’s face it: Christmas and New Year are pretty clichéd, aren’t they?

Same food, same TV programmes, same diamond cardies and super toiletry gift-sets from your gran. Clitch after clitch after clitch, as Bevin famously said.

Original isn’t always best. After all, if your tagline is freshly minted, it has no recognition value. Clichés may be tired, old and worn, but they’re also instantly recognisable.

And often, they’re just what people expect to see. So don’t disappoint them.

Lesson 4: embrace your inner copycat. Even if that means a cliché or two.

Related posts:

1. It’s a numbers game – and one you can win
2. How to market without marketing

Where’s the year going? It’s Copycam time again. Who would have thought it?

I’ve been snapping away with my trusty Nokia when cheeky marketing, bright ideas and clever copy tickle my fancy.

So what’s tickled?

Touchy feely

When I was in London recently, I dropped in on the new Apple store in Covent Garden.

I’ve been there before – or rather, I’ve been to what was there before before. The folks from Cupertino, you see, took over a restaurant and refitted it to create the world’s largest Apple store.

Before you start lamenting the loss of another eatery in the maw of a voracious multinational, let me tell you that as a restaurant, it was never that good.

I ate there once, and it was a classic West End tourist trap: overpriced, bad food, even worse service. And punishingly hot patio-heaters that made me feel like I was in a sauna.

Once was enough.

So out with the cheesy pizzas and glutinous pasta, and in with a big helping of Apple.

And what a feast: iPods, iPads, iTouches and Macs appetisingly laid out for punters to taste test.

Which I did. And I almost ended up buying a new Nano. And an iPhone 4. And an iPad.

And then I remembered my resolution not to snack between meals. But the takeaway wasn’t lost on me.

Lesson 1: let people try out your product or service. Nothing, but nothing, you say can conjure up the feeling of really letting them have a go. So let them have a go.

Switch and bait

How do you feel about low-energy light bulbs?

Yes, me too. I know I should like them, but I don’t. That deathly greenish glow they emit, combined with the odd shapes they come in, is enough to put me off.

In addition, you can’t dispose of them as you would with normal waste. Instead, the advice is to go to the local dump and put them in a special skip.

Except my local dump is four miles away, and I’d have to drive. So there’s my low-carbon footprint gone up in smoke.

Also, if you break them, the recommendation from the Department of the Environment is to vacate the room for 15 minutes.

So dangerous and difficult to dispose of? My politically incorrect attitude is looking more sensible by the minute.

And I’m obviously not alone. Now that the EU has banned 100w incandescent bulbs, they’ve become a sought-after item.

Which a lighting shop down the road from me has realised.

So an otherwise unprepossessing shop on a busy road with no parking has found a clever hook to attract customers. Who might just buy something else.

You pop in for a light bulb – and come away with a light bulb and a rather expensive Art Deco lamp.

Clever.

Lesson 2: find a difference. Shout it from the rooftops.

Hola boys

Time and time again, I have to tell people to lighten up. In their attitude to the written word, that is.

Yes, we’re serious businesspeople – all of us. And no, insurance-premium tax or IT support or web security isn’t a laughing matter.

But that doesn’t mean that you have to go all formal on people. After all, which would you respond more to in a meeting – a starchy, unsmiling, sanctimonious suit or an open-collar, first-name smiler?

As long as the smile was backed up by bright ideas, solid solutions and good service, it’s a no-brainer.

People do business with people, not businesses. And what’s more, with people they like.

Like those cheeky chappies at Nanna Mexico, an eatery in Cambridge that probably doesn’t have an apple in sight.

Big ass burritos. Don’t you just want one?  A big burrito, I mean, not…well you get my drift.

You see this and you think good service, great food, lots of fun. And you haven’t even been inside the door, let alone sampled the fare.

So it’s already set itself apart from the Pizza Huts and Bella Italias of this world.

Now not everybody is a funky, happening, off-the-wall Mexican joint. So if you’re a City-based wealth-management company, you can’t talk about big ass portfolios, for example.

But you can take a leaf out of the Mexican book. Just look at the How’s my driving? question. How many times have you seen that before? Lots, I’ll bet.

But usually, it’s followed by a bland, anonymous email address – info@, contact@, reply@. I once even saw one that said noreply@, which was funny and tragic at the same time.

But luis@ makes me feel it’ll go to a real person. A  real person who cares.

And that matters.

Lesson 3: lighten up, get personal and connect with customers (however big and important you are).

Find out more:

• See the light. The EU’s characteristically inaccessible press release on low-energy light bulbs.
• Buen apetito. If you’re heading up Cambridge way, why not grab a big ass burrito at Nanna Mexico? Tell Luis I sent you.
• Forbidden fruit. Something’s bound to tickle your tastebuds at Apple’s new Covent Garden store.

Related posts:

1. The personal touch (and the competitive edge)
2. What you see isn’t necessarily what you get

It’s Copycam time again – because sometimes, pictures really are worth a thousand words (unless you’re asking for a copy quote, in which case, let’s talk).

Do you Lovefilm? I do. That’s why I joined.

No more trolling around the DVD rental shop to scan the bare shelves in desperation late on a Saturday afternoon when the gannets have been.

No, Lovefilm is much more civilised. Find titles online, drop them into your rental list, and they’re shipped in the post.

I couldn’t be happier.

Well I could, actually. If only they hadn’t asked me to rope in my chums.

Now I know that asking people to recommend a friend is a great way to find new business. People like people like them (still with me?) so friends of clients are the perfect prospects.

Here’s what they sent me:

But that’s not all. At the end of the letter were two shiny credit card-sized Lovefilm gift cards:

They even said A gift from Kevin Walsh. Isn’t that nice?

No, I didn’t think so either.

To be honest, I felt a bit used. But more importantly, the company dropped a couple of notches in my estimation.

Even worse, I’d now be less likely to recommend it to friends.

Horticultural implement (aka spade)

I’ve talked about euphemisms before. At best, they can sound precious and stilted. At worst, they can completely obscure the meaning.

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking past the new Primark store in Cambridge and spotted this:

Retail operatives?

Oh right, that would be salespeople to you and me.

Remember the first rule of copywriting: write as you speak.

But this jargon is everywhere. Down the road at M&S (and camera-less, unfortunately) I bumped into a Frenchman puzzling over this notice on the toilet door:

Female operative in male facilities

Whatever could it mean, he wondered? When I translated for him he laughed, and said he was glad to see the langue de bois was alive and well in England too.

Langue de bois? Literally, ‘wooden language’. Jargon, double-speak, gobbledygook.

Touché.

Feed me

Whether you love Tesco or hate them (I do both, frequently at the same time) you have to hand it to them: they’re pretty damn good at marketing.

From green points for recycled carrier bags to schools vouchers, they get all the little things right. They may be spreading across the country faster than a Gulf oil slick, but they sure know how to keep customers happy.

I spotted this recently in my local store:

How about that? Five different ways to give feedback, including a free text and free hotline.

Pretty good.

Mind you, they don’t get everything right.

A few weeks back, they relaunched their online shopping site, and now the graphics are slow, the basket scrolls up (it used to remain static on the right-hand side while the items scrolled on the left) and I’ve been seeing my old friend the hour-glass for the first time in 10 years.

So in this instance, they’ve got it wrong. But I’ll forgive them. I might even send them a free text with some feedback.

Because when it comes to feedback, one thing is certain.

Every little helps.

Related posts:

1. How to win, even when you lose
2. Are people buying what you’re selling?