Dichotomy Consulting :: Social Media | Advertising | Branding

In today’s sucky economic climate (I do believe that is the proper academic term) many companies are cutting agencies out of their marketing efforts and taking the creation of advertising in-house. (At least, that is what I hope has happened here because the thought of this slapped-together, stock-photo nightmare coming from an honest-to-goodness agency is way too much for me to take in my delicate condition.)

These were both shot in situ in their respective spaces on adjacent pumps at a RaceTrac gas station in West Palm Beach. (This was last week, so I have no idea how long they plan to go with the “New Year’s Resolution” theme.)

I love how the "bad girl" is in South Beach but has brought her own decadent convenience store treats with her.

And, hey! Why not use the same "apropos of nothing" image to sell smokeless tobacco? Genius!

First, let me say that my wife and I have bought this and find it very tasty. In fact, we highly recommend it.

But the fact remains that we bought it despite this ad in the January 18, 2010 issue of People magazine. Why? Because the main visual makes the product look like cheap, private-label cat food. All that’s missing is a little gelatinous film around the edges. Sure, I read the ad and realized that it is, in actuality, yummy low-calorie chocolate mousse. By then the damage was done, however.

If it wasn’t for our long–and mostly positive–experience with the Jell-O brand, I promise you we would’ve passed on this, big-time.

Boar’s Head. How I love and hate thee.

“Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts.”  – William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White, The Elements of Style.

Back when I taught aspiring young copywriters, this was one of my ongoing refrains. Such it continues to be that when I see something like this–on a PIN pad at the Ikea in Tampa–it jumps out at me. It’s as if the pad assumes I not only have a secret PIN, but also one that I give out to strangers.