The Makeover Maven

What’s on Great Plains Ad’s Horizon?

Sometimes I fantasize that there’s a great ad agency in the sky, floating on top of a cloud. In it, there’s a luxurious thinktank room furnished with half a dozen Barcalounger recliners and well-stocked with Pepsi, coffee and Doritos. There, a team of creatives gathers to rock back, nibble and sip, brainstorming great ad concepts that hopefully will win at least one advertising award.

It’s a wonderful job and a wonderful life. There’s just one catch. You are never allowed to descend from the clouds and have any contact with the earthlings your ads are intended to affect. In fact, you’re not even allowed to think about them.

But perhaps I’m being too cruel. As I was fond of wisely opining in my copy-chiefing days


THE MAKEOVER MAVEN

A Modest Claim Made Modestly

You have to look closely to see what the illustration and headline are sayingbut if you don’t youre not missing much

Its skimpy information and inadequate execution made this Hoover’s Online ad a good subject for this issue’s makeover.

Because the illustration design is a little jumbled, I didn’t quite get it the first time I looked. It’s a photo of a man in shirtsleeves addressing empty chairs in a conference room. Pasted over his head and shoulders is a large color head shot of a sad clown.

Before: Picture is confusing to eye and mind. Why empty chairs? Did the others leave the room? Ad claim too modest. Body copy hard to read.


Why empty chairs? Dunno. Maybe because the ad had a low budget and that was the best conference-room photo the company could get for the money. Or maybe part of the visual message is that everybody else has walked out because the man giving the presentation is so poorly informed.

And although this may be my personal reaction, I found the pasted-on clown head a little confusing to the eye.

Beneath the clown is the headline:


THE MAKEOVER MAVEN

Artisoft Ad Slights a Success Story

Ad is devoted to a case history of one delighted customer, but has no focal point and downplays the customer’s achievements

I AM INDEBTED to Mal Decker, a leading direct marketing veteran, for sending me the subject of this issue’s makeover


THE MAKEOVER MAVEN

Not Practicing What It Preaches?

“YOU CAN’T save souls in an empty church.”

That was a cardinal principle of an ad theorist I’ve always idolized, David Ogilvy.

To this I would like to add my own modest contribution: “Even the best business-to-business advertising is frequently boring — to non-prospects.”

What Ogilvy meant was that your print advertising can’t persuade prospects to like or buy your product if they can’t or won’t read it.

Such may be the case with this ad for Accrue Software.

Three lines of type, each made up of the word “Click” repeated continuously, intersect over a sea of — guess what? — the award-seeking art director’s favorite means of expression: white space.

Below it is a block of reasonably good catalog copy set in what looks like 7-point sans serif — not exactly inviting but not totally unreadable — with a small heading: “And then?”

So what the ad is trying to say in a visually dramatic way is that lots of people may click on your Web site listing. But what happens after they enter?

At the bottom of the page, for people with really keen eyesight, is a sign-off in what appears to be 5-point sans serif, inviting a phone call or Web site visit.

This is by no means the worst ad I’ve examined for my column. But a company whose bread and butter is measuring Internet advertising effectiveness deserves — and we should expect — something much better.

Direct response ad pioneer Victor Schwab was fond of quoting what Dr. Samuel Johnson declaimed in auctioning off a brewery: “What we are selling here is not vats and barrels, but the possibility of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice.”

What Accrue is selling here is accountability: software that’s able to track every step of visitors’ “buyway” through the advertiser’s site, making it possible to measure the return on investment of every component.

It’s the kind of thing that has caused the firm’s annual sales to skyrocket from $2 million to $20 million in the last four years.

But is the software company practicing what it preaches? Has it tracked the number of responses to this ad and compared that with the results of another approach in a true A-B split-run test?

I’m not privy to the facts of the case, but I seriously doubt it.

The URL in the sign-off copy (www.accrue.com/click13-us) consists of the home page address plus eight added digits, suggesting that the addition is a key code. I tried it and found it to be a dead link, making me think the address might’ve been used as a key code to track the number of responses the publication produced, then abandoned when it was no longer needed. It’s virtually impossible to believe that this was a key code for an A-B copy test, although it’s quite feasible. If this were the winner in such a test, what would the loser be?

In my makeover, I have (a) advertised the brand in the headline; (b) selected the prospect (readers seeking to improve results at their company’s Web site; (c) dramatized and humanized the benefit with a personalized case history (Ogilvy’s early experience with Gallup readership studies taught him that people like to read about people); and (d) put it all in inviting type. To this I’ve added a basic explanation of the product, proof of its value in the form of a list of some of its most famous users, and a more readable display of the call for response via telephone number or URL.

Those who think my ad is boring compared with the “exciting” design of the original should hark back to the principle I cited at the beginning of this article. To prospective buyers of Accrue software, a clear, readable, believable promise of improvement in the measurable effectiveness of their company’s Web site is never boring.

Which ad would do better in a true A-B split-run test? Since advertisers like Accrue seem reluctant to find out things like this, you’ll just have to run the test in your mind.

THOMAS L. COLLINS was co-founder and the first creative director of Rapp & Collins and is co-author, with Stan Rapp, of four books on marketing. He is currently an independent marketing consultant and copywriter in Manhattan.

To send your comments, opinions or suggestions, write me at 424 West End Ave., #11-B, New York, NY 10024, or e-mail me at [email protected] .