ØØ9: Pilot

Sex sells.

Nearly every perfume ad uses it.

Cigarette ads, at one point, used it.

And even brands selling evaporated milk used it.

Oftentimes, when someone says sex sells, they’re really saying romance sells.

In layman’s terms, it would sound something like this:

“With our product, we fulfill your desire of being desired.”

And who doesn’t want to be desired?

I’m convinced you can use sex to sell just about anything.

Like this pen I’m using for this ad write-up before transferring it to a .txt file.

It’s made by Pilot; it has a 0.25mm ballpoint tip so you can write crisp, clean, delicate lines; it’s a 9.5/10.

While this brief description probably won’t be enough to get you to open up your wallet, elevating it with sex can turn a boring, old, afterthought product into a sought-after necessity.

I don’t have to use sex to sell a pen, but pen ads are generally forgettable, so why not?

Let’s make pens sexy again and dive headfirst into this week’s ad write-up for Pilot.

ØØ9: Pilot

Let’s set the scene: It’s 1947. You’re a writer at a publishing company, flipping through a magazine.

Catching your eye, you see a pretty lady lying in bed, admiring her beloved’s writing efforts and voicing her internal thoughts.

This man does high-level business.

Status. Check.

He's admired by the feminine.

Sex. Check.

Other notable professions use it.

Proof and status. Check.

What man wouldn't want this pen?

Anyway, the more you can combine all the core copy elements, the more compelling your copy can become.

I'm not going to go back and rewrite it, but I could've, now that I'm thinking about it, mentioned why other pens aren't good—whether they bleed and smear too much, ink gets everywhere, they're too bulky, or whatever.

Further making the Hi-Tec-C a no-brainer.

Gotta go.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ8: Adidas

TL;DR

Speaking to the soul can make a killer ad. Scroll to the middle, skip the mind-altering context, and dive into this week’s ad write-up.

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This is going to be a long one, so grab some coffee.

1,204 words to be exact (minus the ones you’ve just read).

Got your coffee?

Is it black?

Superior humans don’t use creamer or sugar.

I don’t make the rules.

Anyway, let’s begin.

This ad write-up begins with a newfound hunch:

In advertising, writing to the soul is far better than any simile, metaphor, oxymoron, or creative angle one can conjure up.

Similar to the emotive copy I shared weeks ago, writing to the soul is similar, yet a tad bit different.

Rather than speaking to surface-level sensory experiences, the soul is far deeper—many layers beneath the surface.

The soul is where nostalgia sleeps, where tears are stored in ominous gray clouds, and where the elixirs of courage, happiness, fear, and more are bottled.

The soul seems like it’s only accessible via introspective practices like meditation and journaling, or perhaps pried out of you by a therapist.

Or a damn good copywriter.

The only way I’ve found to do this—and see it done—is through the marketing philosophy of the late and great Rory Sutherland.

One of the Greats

Known for many things, he notoriously penned the most brilliant marketing/psychology book of the 21st century.

That magical little book is called Alchemy.

In it, Rory talks about the true ‘why’ behind the things we do and buy. It’s by asking ‘why’ over and over until you get honest answers.

He asks, “Why do people go to restaurants?” Why, to eat, of course. He retorts, “If it were simply to eat, couldn’t they do so at home, mind you, for far cheaper too?”

On top of this, I’d add, there would also be no need to get ready, dress up, commute, search for parking (or pay for valet), and, worst of all, commute back home—belt unbuckled, seatbelt buckled, stuffed.

Say that three times fast.

Eating out has never been about the food.

And it never will be.

People eat out to be pampered, avoid dishes, entertain guests, celebrate occasions, or because they are too lazy to thaw the meat in the freezer—and even to appease their ego.

It’s by asking ‘why’ repetitively, like a 6-year-old asking why the sky’s blue, that we find potential gold for advertising.

And it’s gold because it reads like the subconscious thoughts you haven’t been able to put into words.

The copy is so potent, so concentrated, you question: how the hell did this ad creator sneak into my brain while I was asleep and steal these precious thoughts?

You read the ad, and a subtle euphoria fades in—you feel seen, you feel heard.

You feel like it was written for you.

And we’ll happily, blindly, and without hesitation give your money to those who fulfill this need.

To drive this concept home, let me share with you a super brief example, followed by copy written by an amazing copywriter I stumbled across with decades of talent ahead of me.

Runners Run

I run—some would say a lot. It’s usually only 2.5 miles at a time, sometimes 5, and once in a blue moon, I’ll do 10. So, 7.5 to 10 miles is how much I’ll do in a week, on average.

Upon looking for ad inspiration, I was scrolling through Pinterest for vintage ads.

And this one Adidas ad stopped me in my tracks.

I’m not sure if it ever ran; I dug into the linked website and didn’t get a clear answer—some ads ran, but I’m not sure about this one. The copywriter responsible is Dave Dye.

His ad reads:

THERE ARE PROBLEMS I CAN ONLY SOLVE ON A 10-MILE RUN. Like why I’m not on a 5-mile run. The first few miles are spent just unwinding, removing the baggage you’ve carried all day. Miles later, you reach a point where the only thing that lies ahead is a clear mind. These miles are special. They are worth the pain. This world is quiet, and for once, you can think without trying to. Here is your dream while awake. You gain insights into the seemingly unsolvable. But your body constantly reminds you these miles aren’t easy. Still, you keep going. Because there’s so much thinking to do. And someone has got to do it.

I can’t help but relate to every single sentence here.

It’s so honest and pure.

It’s like Morse code, meant to be understood only by runners.

I don’t even run in Adidas, but a part of me now wants to.

If you’re not solving a problem related to saving time, making more money, or using less effort, diving deep into the subconscious with the repeated question ‘why?’ can inspire killer ads like Dave’s.

Today’s ad write-up wasn’t going to be for Adidas.

But now that I’m fired up about running, let’s pour a bit of gasoline on these ads and write up something wicked.

ØØ8: Adidas

Let’s use Rory’s method.

Just keep asking ‘why’.

It’s simple.

Simple does NOT mean easy.

Don’t expect to whip out this ‘why’ question, race it a few laps around the cerebellum, and have an S-tier, blockbuster ad written in world-record time.

What you’re going to see below took me three days of wrestling with, a day off, and one more day to finalize.

Within that span, I ran two seperate days at 2.5 miles each.

Not that that matters, but it happened, so why leave it out of the story?

Okay, the copy:

I DON’T RUN FOR THE EXERCISE. Maybe it’s to feel winded. In that moment I’m thankful for my breath. Maybe it’s to feel like my chest is about to explode. Exactly like excitement and nervousness—all just to feel something really. Maybe it’s for the stiff calves. As I ran 10 miles in the previous week, wearing the stiffness feels like an earned badge of honor. Am I running to something? Am I running from something? Am I overthinking here? Not sure. All I know is I’m most alive right now. Let me run, let me think. It’s quiet here, here with me. I don’t run for exercise.

Really interesting.

I ran mine and Dave’s copy in ChatGPT for an analysis, dissecting the strong points of each and where each succeeds over the other.

My copy’s strong suit is that it has more of a stream-of-consciousness feel.

Dave’s strong suit is more structured, with an emphasis on the problem-solving aspect of running.

“The first copy feels more compelling if the goal is to connect emotionally with a wide range of runners. It taps into the visceral experience of running as a form of self-expression and introspection. Its rawness and honesty create a stronger, more personal connection with readers who see running as a way to feel rather than achieve.

The second copy is compelling for a more goal-driven, structured audience. It offers a clearer, more logical progression of thoughts, making it appealing for readers who might view running as a way to problem-solve or achieve mental clarity.”

I love Dave’s; his copy inspired me to write my own.

They both, in their own way, do the job.

Whose is better?

Who cares?

Only a split test would solve which is better.

Because, at the end of the day, it’s all about which sells more runners to runners.

That’s the end of today’s ad write-up.

Thanks for reaching the bottom.

Here’s a big hug.

You earned it.

Talk soon, bud.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ7: Freshpet

We're talking about commercials today.

Specifically for TV.

Role-play with me for 20 seconds.

Let's say you're an Art Director.

In this hypothetical, we're throwing production, post-production, casting, wardrobe, building of sets, costs for airing, etc., all out the window.

Would you rather use a multi-million dollar budget to create 5 commercials or 25 commercials?

More is better, right?

If you're McDonald's with an infinite budget, sure, stay top of mind with your customers.

For smaller brands?

Even if you can do 25, would they be as memorable as if you put all your effort into 5?

Again, I know nothing about commercials.

However, as a writer, I'm confident I can write a script far more memorable than the filth that gets aired.

Brands are playing it too safe these days.

And when you play it safe, you're as forgettable as the strangers you pass on the sidewalk.

Freshpet is currently airing a 30-second ad between commercial breaks for NFL matches.

Freshpet is a meat and veggies brand for dogs that requires refrigerating.

And I was indifferent about the ad.

Truly I only remember it because I didn't care for it and knew I could make it better with an ad rewrite.

The commercial goes as follows:

Two guys and a dog watch football.

One goes, “Can I grab another beer?” “Sure, help yourself.” “Hey, why is there dog food in the fridge?” “It's not dog food, it's Freshpet.” “Weird.”

He kicks his own friend out of his garage for hurting his dog's feelings.

Some friend?

Anyway, that's the ad, and I could care less.

There are two things I've noticed that get people hooked for an ad.

It either the ad cinematically feels like a movie trailer making you forget you're being sold to, or there's an aspect about it that's incongruent.

Or a bit of both.

Whether it’s a gecko trying to sell you insurance or a ravioli can falling off a grocery store shelf and rolling to your doorstep, it’s the oddness that keeps us hooked.

Because you only notice a spoon when it’s bent.

Today’s ad rewrite is for Freshpet.

ØØ7: Freshpet

Freshpet give your dog far tastier and nutrient dense food compared to dried kibble.

Let's use this as the problem our characters are looking to solve, meaning they’re currently not getting nutrient-dense food and are settling for kibble.

In my opinion—and it’s probably not even an opinion if we stopped and thought about it—we don’t love our dogs as much as we think we do.

Sure, some of us have no idea that healthier food options for our dogs exist, but many of us do and still refuse to buy those options.

Because they're more expensive? Yes, I agree.

But if it were our firstborn, would we think the same?

Point made.

Let’s actually use this as a quarrel between the dog and the owner.

And with the dog talking to the human, let’s use the TV show Wilfred as inspiration (one of my favorite shows).

So it would not only be a talking dog, but the dog is really a human in a dog costume.

Alrighty, quiet on set—action.

Scene: Kitchen – Morning

Cornelius, a man in a dog costume, sits at the counter with his food bowl, staring at the dry kibble. Derek, the owner, is preparing his cereal.

Cornelius (staring at kibble)

Why don’t you love me as much as I love you, Derek?

Derek (turning to him)

What makes you say that?

Cornelius

I’ve been eating the same dry kibble, without complaint mind you, for the past seven years. Not once have you asked me if I liked it.

Derek (pause)

Do you like it?

Cornelius

I don’t, Derek.

Derek glances from Cornelius to his own bowl of cereal.

Cornelius

You even get to add milk to your kibble.

Derek

It’s cereal.

Cornelius

I agree, this is serious.

Derek (sighs)

...

Cornelius

Felix down at the dog park, all he talks about is this new and exciting food he’s been eating. He calls it Freshpet. Its given him a shiny new coat, a boost in energy—boy, you should see that Shepard run when you’re not busy flirting with all the other dog moms. (playfully backhands Derek’s shoulder) He’s even dropped a few pounds, and is no longer a shy pooper. He said he may even get back into dog shows.

Derek (surprised)

He told you all that?

Cornelius

Well, his coat has been looking shinier, and he says he’s been using the same conditioner. He’s always been fast, too. As for the rest, I’ve scientifically concluded from smelling his—

Derek (cutting him off)

I get it... Your nose is better than mine, so you’re probably right...

Cornelius

Probably? Come on, Derek, when have I been wrong...

Derek

I’m your dad. You gotta stop calling me Derek.

Cornelius (nonchalantly)

Deal. I’ll grab the keys.

End Scene.

A touch of humor, a quick highlight of benefits, and the problem gets resolved.

Simple.

Alright, that’s about it for today.

Create a conversation around a problem, and elevate the production so it feels cinematic.

Talk soon,

Adrian

ØØ6: Tango Chili Sauce

Every great story has a problem.

The problem (a.k.a. conflict) is what motivates your character to get from point A to point B.

If Batman didn’t have the Joker in the movie The Dark Knight, it would’ve been a really short, boring movie.

Brands function in a similar way.

If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be a compelling reason to buy from them, now would there?

Sure, there are tons of ways for you creatives and marketers to create a problem out of thin air, but today I’m going to distill the creation of problems into two beakers for you.

First and foremost, you must know that everyone has a problem—everyone. Yes, even you, Mr. or Ms. Perfect. Whether one’s suffering or not, problems exist.

Some search for that hidden gem restaurant; others long to capture Instagram-worthy selfies in Tulum; and don’t we all seek out life-changing results from overpriced pills and powders?

Long ago, we once sailed into the unknown in search of new lands. Now, we’re the utmost bored, starting wars and protests for fun, escaping into brain-rot content, and enjoying short-lived joy delivered with next-day shipping.

Problems will always exist.

The two simplest ways to find a problem—whether life-threatening or not—are by looking at your offer’s alternatives and substitutes to see where your offer is better.

While these may sound like synonyms, they’re actually different.

Substitutes serve in place of something else—if Southwest is booked, try Delta.

Alternatives are other available possibilities.

If you’re hungry and want pizza but all the shops are closed, tacos are a solid second choice.

Either of these options, along with their respective outcomes, can be used to create your ad.

Let’s say you’re in the market for a brand-new bottle of hot sauce.

Your favorite hot sauce is Tabasco, just like mine—but the grocery store is all out. What do you do next? You look at the Cholula and Red Rooster. Pick one and move on with your day.

But what would alternatives look like?

Well, if the grocery store is out of all hot sauces, then ketchup, mayo, mustard, or barbecue sauce may be what you grab, depending on your hierarchy of sauces.

Now, let’s bring it back to advertising.

Once you have a list of alternatives and substitutes for your offer, you can now break them down by ingredients, how they’re made, where they’re made, etc.

You’re searching for something they do incorrectly that you do correctly—this is the problem.

With problems in mind, let’s head into today’s spicy write-up for Tango Chili Sauce.

ØØ6: Tango Chili Sauce

If you're cursed with the knowledge that there’s a ton of stuff in our food that shouldn’t be there, you’ll know that preservatives plague the food industry.

I’m no doctor…

BUT if you can’t pronounce the ingredient, if it has a mixture of x, y, or z in its spelling, or if you can’t picture what it looks like, it’s probably not fit for human consumption.

One of those fun ingredients is sodium benzoate, a commonly used preservative in hot sauces.

Tango doesn’t use sodium benzoate; they use all-natural ingredients that a third grader can read.

For this ad write-up, let’s use the preservative sodium benzoate as our “Joker”:

I can see this creative at bus stops, store end caps, or billboards.

It calls out the enemy found in other popular substitutes, is a bit cheeky, and even get’s the viewer to take an action.

To recap, here’s a quick summary of what you read:

• Everything’s a problem (or can be made one)

• Substitutes are an angle

• Everyone has a problem (yup, even you)

• Alternatives are an angle

Oh, and you're obviously Batman in your story.

Or Joker, I don’t really care.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ5: Coda Payments

Occam’s Razor suggests that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.

This Razor is often accurate. For example, if your 2002 Toyota Camry doesn’t start, check and see if it has gas before disassembling the engine.

However, this idea doesn’t always apply in marketing.

Even basic necessities like drinkable water need a unique angle. There’s boxed water, black water, French water, and spring water. Every brand is doing its best to stand out.

On the other hand, complex concepts like EVs, SaaS, and DeFi are often simplified so that even a third grader can understand them.

What’s something both simple and complex brands can benefit from?

Context.

The more context, the better. Adjectives and adverbs are helpful, but they aren’t enough. You’ve heard “better,” “faster,” “quietly,” and “safely” your whole life, but compared to what? Is it faster by a few feet or a mile? Quieter than a stick of dynamite or a vacuum? “Would you like some more?” How much is more? Do you see what I’m getting at?

For brands solving significant problems—like those whose failure could impact global infrastructure—context is crucial.

Even something as intricate as global payment processing can benefit from more context.

Benefit how?

By taking your click-through rate from 1% to 2%.

In today’s ad write-up, we’re redoing the homepage for Coda Payments.

ØØ5: Coda Payments

If you visit their homepage, they have the Occam’s Razor part down. In as few words as possible, they give you a general overview of what they do.

Great start.

However, they’re missing a few important pieces–let’s stick to context for now.

As for how I’m going to show an entire redone homepage, I think the best way will be to ‘inspect element’ and copy-and-paste my copy in place of theirs.

Here’s their “Our Solutions” section:

Briefly, before I show you what I wrote, look at the insights.

Ten years is a lot—impressive, actually—but what is the “latest in conversion and monetization analytics?” Also, as a customer, why would I care? What does that do for me? I don’t care if you use an abacus and a typewriter to keep tabs on everything. Can you be more concrete?

Look, MOST people won’t notice these missing details. Their subconscious will glaze over it, and all will be fine. Yet, when you add potent words that are concrete rather than abstract, going from 1/100 to 2/100 people clicking doesn’t seem far-fetch.

Okay, on to what I wrote, along with the other pieces:

Notice the difference? You’ll grow faster. How much faster? Up to 5x faster. Faster than who? Your competition. Ah, got it. Numbers can easily replace adjectives and adverbs. They function as context AND proof at the same time.

On to the next part—here’s their current “Why Coda?” section:

Not going to beat a dead horse, nor do the math on the above—you should be able to see where it can be improved.

Here’s the same section with context, in bullet format:

The ‘Our Payment Methods’ section is fine. Coda offers over 300 of them. Imagine 300 types of jam at the supermarket. How easy would it be to pick a jam? Exactly. Some forms of context won’t improve the customers journey, so be mindful here.

We’re almost out of time, ladies and gents; let’s move on to the headline.

Current:

How? By monetizing your game everywhere, specifically in over 25 markets.

So that became the “new” headline:

Minus the design flaw, which do you think will catch the reader's attention more? Which evokes a bit more curiosity? I didn’t use a percentage or numerical value here, as they offer multiple services, and not everyone may need all of them, so the headline could be misleading.

Alrighty, got to go.

Remember:

Turn the vague into visuals.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ4: Rancho West Beer

Another drink brand, Adrian?

Listen, bud, I don’t make the rules around here.

But yes, we’re talking about another refreshment.

This one’s going to be pretty fun. We’re going to walk through how to write emotive copy that sells while staying on brand, all without coming off as gimmicky.

Because some people want cool and fun, yet they don’t want the dials cranked to 11.

Capiché?

Before we get into the weeds of how to write emotive copy, you must first understand two core principles.

They’re simple, yet not easy; I promise you, if you stick with them and practice consistently, they’ll make you irreplaceable as a writer.

Quick preface: the use cases for this type of copy will differ from place to place. In product descriptions, you can use this style and go haywire. On landing pages, sprinkle it in like salt—too much, and the meal can’t be saved.

Principle #1: Mini-Stories

Get in the mindset that you’re writing a mini-story.

With every story comes four components: 1.) a character, 2.) a setting, 3.) a problem, 4.) a beginning, middle, and end.

For the character, make it about your customer; use second-person narrative, i.e., 'you,' 'your,' and 'you're.' Your customer will read these and feel your business is speaking directly to them, like a teacher.

For the setting, take the essence of your offer and imagine a place or thing with a similar theme. The one thing that’s loved most about the product becomes the copy's whole life and angle. Like in the previous ad write-up for Not Beer™, the essence was the feeling of America, not a physical location. From there, brainstorm all the things that remind you of your essence.

On to problems. All products solve problems. Some are more obvious, like flat tires. Others, like luxury bags, are more subtle. When there’s no urgent problem, the longing for something—an unfulfilled desire—is the problem. Since we’re about to talk about beer let’s look at some popular examples:

Stella Artois turns you into James Bond. Modelo is for fighters. Corona is for beach-goers who want to lay in a hammock. Dos Equis (XX) makes you feel like the most interesting man in the world.

And Rancho West Beer is for Californians who enjoy being outside living life, or at least that’s what I got from their website.

There’s a time and place and a problem for each of these beers—do you get it?

Alrighty, number four. Beginning, middle, and end. While this one is simple, it’s easier to understand its nuances by reading books, and the example I’m about to share with you. Store in the back of your brain that in the beginning, you set the scene; in the middle, your character interacts with it, takes actions, and gets closer to solving the problem; and in the end, the problem is solved, and they’re enjoying life, courtesy of your product.

Principle #2: Senses Add Clarity

Your teachers lied to you; the human body has more than five senses. Here's a list of most of them, which you can address in your copy:

Sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch, balance, proprioception, temperature, pain, time perception, and internal senses.

Spend some time with these. Again, these are most of them. Your sense of sight isn’t just sight; there are other facets, like color, depth perception, and spatial awareness.

Sneaky helpful tip: the lack of any of these is also a sense.

I’m not going to dive any deeper into this principle as it’s more nuanced than the previous ones, is entirely subject to what you’re writing about, and is best shown by example rather than explained.

Alrighty, lecture is done—let’s get into today’s ad write-up in emotive copywriting.

ØØ4: Rancho West Beer

Let’s begin with what they’re currently running with:

Is this bad?

Yes and no.

No, in that it’s an accurate representation of the beer, and it makes grammatical sense. 99% of people reading this will have zero issue with it.

Yes, in that, after removing the word ‘organic,’ any other beer brand could say this exact paragraph word for word. Also, while the imagery and videos on their website—tremendous, by the way; I wouldn’t change a single thing—are great, I feel there’s a bit of a disconnect to the choice of words.

Here’s what I wrote:

Do you see a difference?

You can literally feel these words. I captured the essence of relaxing on the beach. Your senses of smell, temperature, and sight were all engaged.

Your customers have heard “crisp and refreshing” their whole lives—tell them more, tell them more, tell them more.

The last thing I’ll leave you with is a quote from Hemingway:

“The first draft of anything is shit.”

What you read above, I nailed on the seventh go at it. Give what you wrote some time. Go for a walk. Call someone you love. It’ll get written. I promise.

‘Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ3: Arc Boats

There’s a popular quote floating around these days, perhaps a bit too much. Despite its truth, it’s often used to provide solace to those who let others' achievements overshadow their own.

The quote:

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

Have you heard it before?

It’s been attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th President of the United States.

While you’ll rarely hear anyone argue against it, I’m gently pushing back today. My pushback is that comparison is unavoidable, and there’s nothing you or I can do to completely remove it from our brain—it’s a thief if you allow it.

In addition to this, I’d argue that the act of making comparisons is as automatic as your heart beating and breathing air.

Imagine a caveman long ago seeing another caveman intuitively grab a bigger stone and a longer stick, leading to a greater success in hunting. The first caveman would have put two and two together and done the same.

Fast forward to today, and we’re still making comparisons.

Whether you’re comparing for motivation, to absolve yourself of responsibility, or to wallow in negativity, what you do with your free will is up to you.

What I’m arguing is that we do it automatically, whether we like it or not, because in the presence of new information, we adapt to survive. Once we’ve met our basic needs like food, water, and shelter, this “adapting to survive” pivots to things like societal status and achievements.

It’s how we distinguish fast cars from faster cars, fair-looking people from supermodels, shantytown shacks from mansions in the hills, and fine cuisine from chopped liver sandwiches.

Since we’re always making comparisons—whether we like it or not—it’s one of the key strategies we can use as advertisers to help our target audience better understand what we’re saying.

A long time ago, when I was getting into copywriting, this one Porsche ad had me in awe, and I still remember it today.

A blurred photo of a Porsche accelerating, it reads:

“What a dog feels when the leash breaks.”

If you’ve ever walked a dog, you can literally feel this eight-word sentence. It’s by vividly comparing the car’s speed to something the customer is acutely aware of, i.e., walking a dog, that makes this ad work.

Inspired by this Porsche ad, today’s ad write-up is for Arc Boats, an EV company electrifying the marine industry.

ØØ3: Arc Boats

Have you ever floored it in a Tesla? It's an unreal experience. If Henry Ford were alive today, he'd lose his goddamn marbles if he sat in a Tesla and went from 0 to 60 mph in 2.9 seconds.

But, we're talking about boats here.

So, what would this instantaneousness feel like on water? Well, when folks thinks of boats, fish often comes to mind. And with how big the planet is, there has to be fish so fast and strong, they could pull you under, never to be seen again.

Let's go with this fish angle.

Inspired by an old Porsche ad, this Arc Boats ad compares its profound torque to that of a marlin, the fastest fish on the planet.

The ad reads:

Simple and nothing too crazy.

My main goal here was for you to know that we're always making comparisons.

Whether in a literal sense, like comparing competitors, or a metaphorical sense, like the marlin ad above, it's impossible not to compare.

'Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ2: DASH Water

In combat sports, you compete in a designated weight class.

If you weigh 155 lbs, you compete against others who weigh 155 lbs. Going up or down in weight is possible by losing water weight or bulking up, though the same principle applies. Despite this one caveat, you'll never be thrown into a ring with someone who is 50 lbs heavier or lighter than you.

Imagine a 225 lbs man fighting a 125 lbs man.

Would that be fair?

The punching, kicking and grappling strength of the man who weighs 100 lbs more would outmatch his opponent a 100 matches out of a 100.

Relating this analogy to marketing, nearly the complete opposite is true.

Let me explain.

Apple competes with Microsoft. Pepsi competes with Kelloggs. Revenue-wise, they're all competing against each other.

However, there are tons of small brands who are competing against them. They're fighting against brands echelons above them. Is it fair? No. Nothing in business is.

Despite employee counts and quarterly earnings reports, nearly anything goes in the world of marketing. You've seen it before: a car manufacturer will make an ad where they’re out-racing, out-comforting another car manufacturer whilst using the competitors car in the ad.

Yet, you never see any of them punching down to any small brands. It would be foolish to do so. For this simple reason: why give them any free press?

For small brands, nearly anything goes. It's like David versus Goliath. You won't topple any giants with a single ad campaign, but you can generate a substantial amount of buzz by attacking them correctly.

This is what DASH Water did the other week.

At first glance, I liked this ad.

As I swirled it around, like wine trying to understand its body and hidden notes, I spat it out and requested a new bottle.

In this case, I request a new ad.

This ad stubbed Goliath's toe, and the masses claimed it as a victory.

In my opinion, you can only do something for the first time once, and in this case, it should've gone all the way.

It should've gone for the jugular.

Today's ad rewrite is for DASH Water.

ØØ2: DASH Water

“So, Adrian, what would going for the jugular look like?”

I'm glad you asked, bud.

That “C” in the image above is Coca-Cola.

Sure, the font was slightly tweaked for copyright reasons, but that letter and color scheme are ingrained in every child's brain, so no one’s scratching their head, wondering, “what’s that?”

The original ad reads their trademark slogan, which I'd argue means they're playing it safe while attacking the beast. This makes zero sense.

The best angle is simple: attack them for diabetes.

Here are the two ads I created that do just that.

Advert number 1:

And, advert number 2:

If you're considering punching up, aim for the neck.

Or else don’t do it.

'Til next time,

Adrian

ØØ1: Not Beer™

Perfection has been achieved for most things in life.

Peanut butter is now squirtable thanks to Justin's. The Apple device you're reading off of would blow the minds of Aristotle and Sun Tzu. Those new Hokas of yours make every step you take feel like you're walking on a cloud.

It's like that one scene in Louis C.K.'s old stand-up:

"Everything's great, yet my life sucks."

Selling a physical product today comes with the non-negotiable task of charades. And I'm totally here for it, as long as it's done with congruency. Come, let me walk you through some examples.

Pit Viper is a brand that I absolutely adore, yet will never buy from.

Why?

Because they're congruent. It's not pretending to be anything—it simply is.

Red Bull is all about being extreme. “Adrian, every eighteen-year old taking Marketing 101 knows this.” Look closer, bud. It's a very specific extreme, i.e., life-threatening, oh-shit-I-could've-died sports. None of their sponsors are oil painters, ballet dancers, Wii tennis players, or professors. Even if these examples were done "extremely," it wouldn't be on-brand.

Despite the insane revenue they're raking in, thus nullifying my opinion, Liquid Death is all over the place.

Their congruency is being wild, yet they just released a salt and pepper shaker, so I don't know what to think anymore. They went from comedic gore to using influential people like Martha Stewart, Tony Hawk, and Tom Segura, to giving away a jet, and then selling salt and pepper shakers—the list goes on.

Was I a fan in the beginning?

Yes.

Am I now?

Like the words any kid hates to hear from their parents:

"We're not mad, Adrian; we're just disappointed."

And my disappointment has converted into exhaustion. Like the fifth stage of denial or whatever that expression is.

I think Liquid Death and I should see other people.

Which leads me to today's ad creation for Not Beer™.

ØØ1: Not Beer™

Nearly a carbon copy of Anheuser-Busch's Budweiser, Not Beer™ is American-made sparkling water packaged in infinitely recyclable aluminum. Their whole shtick is being the most patriotic, freedom-of-speech canned beverage out there that won't give you a DUI.

And so far, they're pretty congruent.

While just now typing 'DUI' seven seconds ago and thinking it would make a killer angle for an ad, let's continue on with the two ads I created. With the two words 'patriotism' and 'water' and the one thing they hate 'plastic' written in all caps, huge, on a sheet of paper, these were the two adverts I created:

Advert number two:

I've no affiliation with them.

They're sold in two places:

Grocers in Texas and Amazon.

'Til next time,

Adrian