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