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FEATURE 

You’re the top! You’re the Coliseum

If your direct marketing gives your prospect a warm glow, then you’re well on your way to making a sale. A well crafted compliment is one way of achieving this. According to Jennifer Menten, flattery will get you (almost) everywhere - when you’re wooing subscribers.

By Jennifer Menten

Let me guess. You were drawn to this article because you’re always on the look-out for effective and creative new ways to boost your subscription sales. And when you come across a good idea, even if it’s never been tried before, you have the professional confidence and marketing savvy to put it to the test.

Guess what? You’ve just been flattered. Didn’t hurt a bit, did it?

Given the warm glow that most sincere compliments bestow on their recipients, it’s surprising that flattery isn’t used more frequently in advertising copy. It’s almost as if even the most accomplished wordsmiths are worried that they’ll be mistaken for fast-tongued confidence tricksters rather than the well-meaning scribes they really are. (Although you could be forgiven if you can’t spot the difference.)

The fact is that bestowing a compliment on a potential customer takes finesse. Get it wrong, and you appear insincere, condescending or simpering. Get it right, and you’re on your way to a long, satisfying and lucrative relationship.

Having smootched and schmoozed my way around the advertising business for many years, I am in a good position to help you get it right. Or at the very least, ensure that your subscription copy gives the impression that you appreciate your prospects’ outstanding qualities.

What might those qualities be?

The best way to answer that question is to ask yourself another one: What are the qualities you appreciate in yourself and / or want others to believe you possess?

What about intelligence? Most of us think we’re pretty smart, if not exactly Mensa material. And we like it when others recognise how very bright we are.

The writer who penned the US launch mailing for Vanity Fair understood this very well. Here’s how the magazine’s subscription mailing started:

"Dear Ms Menten: You may just be the solution.

Here is the problem: How do you find the right subscribers for an extraordinary magazine – BUT, a magazine that isn’t for everyone? A magazine that is, in fact, for only a handful of bright, literate people who still, in this world of instant communication, love to sit down with a good book."


"How flattering. And how true", I hear you say. So, too, is this copy, written to launch GEO magazine:

"I’m writing to you with news of a unique magazine. A magazine for intellectually-curious individuals who have a taste – even a craving – for greater range and spirit in reading entertainment."

I don’t think many people, having read this, would insist that the description didn’t fit them to a ‘t’.

Exclusive club

A close cousin to this kind of flattery is a technique I’ll call ‘compliment-by-inclusion’ - inviting your prospect to join the select group of people for whom your magazine is published. A rather special club that doesn’t allow just anyone through its hallowed doors.

Examples of this approach abound in the Economist’s earlier direct mail. Take the beginning of this subscription letter, for instance:

"Who doesn’t read the Economist? The great majority of normal, everyday folk exist quite happily without it. The nation’s youth has yet to choose the Economist as its "cult mag". To be perfectly frank, only 0.22% of Britain’s adult population regularly buys the Economist. That’s a mere 100,382 souls.

The fact that this small minority runs most of British business, industry and government might, however, be considered significant."


This copy compliments the reader’s status as a leader. But to avoid patronising the prospect, the writer chooses to define the sort of person who isn’t meant for the Economist, rather than the individual who is.

Now this is all very well, you may be thinking. But does it really work? After all, even with finely-tuned targeting, a mail shot still goes out to a great many people. How can it believably claim to be exclusive?

Let me answer that question with another illustration – a mailing that relaunched the New Yorker in the US. The writer understood the unique regard in which the original publication was held by well-educated, well-read Americans ... a pedigree acknowledged at the very outset of the subscription letter:

"Years ago, when the New Yorker’s circulation first climbed above the 300,000 mark, our first editor Harold Ross was heard to remark nervously: ‘Too many people. We must be doing something wrong.’

So you may wonder why, with many more readers today, we seem to be flouting our traditions by sending out this subscription invitation – the first in 14 years.

The reason? At a time when more and more magazines appear to be written by committees, there may well be a new generation of readers who would welcome the wit, style and intelligence of the highly individual talents writing for the New Yorker."


The tone of voice used by the writer is spot-on for both the audience and the product ... another thing worth bearing in mind when you decide to give your reader a compliment – either directly or indirectly.

Acknowledging good taste

But what other attributes might your prospects possess that deserve a positive acknowledgement?

What about discernment or good taste? Readers of certain upmarket travel, fashion, interior design and arts magazines are more than likely to believe they’re a cut above the rest of us in this regard. (Although they are also quite sophisticated, so you’ll want to tread with care and make certain your ego-massage is put delicately.)

So how might a letter for an upmarket travel magazine go? Here’s my off-the-cuff attempt:

"Dear Ms Menten,

Some people will always prefer Blackpool to Biarritz ... the Costa del Sol to the Carpathian mountains ... the Algarve to the Arctic Circle. But if you’re not one of them ... if you like your holidays to be as far removed from the crowds, the kids and the cocktails as you can get – then welcome to Serendipity. The travel magazine that’s a world away from the ordinary."


Maybe the first sentence is a bit of a copy ‘war horse’. But then so is "They laughed when I sat down at the piano." And that ran for decades.

On the subject of looking back, what about the offers you’ve made to your first-time subscribers? If they were very generous (the offers, not the subscribers), then you have a golden opportunity to compliment them on their good judgement. After all, they had the smarts to recognise an excellent deal when it was offered to them, and took immediate advantage of it.

If your magazine was new at the time, even better. You can praise your early subscribers for spotting a star-in-the-making ... and also for having confidence in your vision at a very critical time. (Don’t forget to let them know how many readers you’ve attracted since those first days, to reinforce how very accurate their judgement proved!)

There really isn’t a limit on the kinds of compliments you can bestow to your prospects, when you start to give it some thought. Do they possess unusual confidence? Do they excel at a particular sport or hobby? Have they just received a promotion or a higher degree (putting them in a more exclusive professional bracket)? Or maybe they’re merely too busy to be bothered by the kind of simple-minded advice dished out by your competitor, and hunger for a fresher, more focused approach?

See what I’m getting at – you bright, capable, savvy, sophisticated person, you?