Putting the Advert into Advertorials
Advertorials are the fun part of copywriting. They allow you to build a personality for a brand and communicate to your audience by means of a narrative. But, where do we draw the line between simply telling someone a good story, and ensuring that you’ve signposted key brand messages? Let’s not forget that we are writing with a mind to sell, yes sell – that dirty word! But advertorials are rather more wholesome to write. They are a soft sell and the nature of them is more often than not, to do this in a discreet way. They are designed to entice the reader and pique their interest. A cleverly constructed piece should tap into your psyche and speak to you.
Although such a brief is a bit of a gift to a copywriter, advertorials can also end up being minefields. They are so easy to get wrong and I’ve seen completely cringe-worthy advertorials in all types, sizes and creeds of publications. One that immediately springs to mind appeared recently in a fashion magazine. It was for a leading car brand and technically, I was the target audience but I was instantly turned off. Why? Because the writer went too far to convince me that I was “their one”. I fitted the blueprint from their extensive research and the effect was distinctly creepy.
Their first mistake was to gauchely communicate with me through a preposterous fictional character physically embodied in print by a model, frozen in transit across a busy urban street en route to her shiny motorcar, with a gawking expression across her face. Let’s call her Sophie.
Sophie was the spokeswoman for the brand, and throughout a clumsy collection of paragraphs she “related” to me about her fashion woes, how she liked to visit the cinema and meet friends for coffee and really, how she was the tick list of things someone like me did, worried about, and wanted to be.
Then came the big sell. The product, which incidentally bearing in mind it’s a car, ultimately has nothing to do with fashion, the cinema or coffee. The crux of the article was that this product was just perfect. It fitted in with her lifestyle just wonderfully. It was “So Sophie.” Ergo – female, 25-34, aspirational, sociable, drinks diet Coke and coffee and earns a mediocre salary. I was instantly reduced to existing solely on a mood board. I breathed a palatable sigh of relief; they weren’t right about everything – I don’t like coffee.
Along with the sense of relief, I found myself completely confused. I was vexed about many things, but mainly about the lack of structure. Surely a story has a beginning, a middle and an end? But here, the beginning was about Sophie’s fashion problems, the middle talked about her friends and coffees, and the end told me about a seemingly unrelated product. Baffling to say the least.
Was this advertorial written by a “Sophie”. I sincerely doubt it. From the language and imagery used I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been written by a reincarnated Charles Dickens.
So what have we learned here? Stick to writing advertorials for publications you know well and about people just like you? No! What we’ve learned is this – keep it simple, remember the narrative and tone and don’t labour the point. You’re talking to an interested party. Not many people bother to read what’s essentially an elongated advert they’re not interested in, and in some cases they are already a candidate for you by simply by picking up said publication and buying it, so don’t patronise them. Don’t come off like a granny trying to “talk street” to a group on kids smoking behind a bike shed. It’s David Brent-ish, embarrassing and more than that, it’s just bad form.
