Junk Mail, 2001: Physical and Virtual

JUNK MAIL, 2001: PHYSICAL AND VIRTUAL

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· Dove Soap

It's totally unfair of me to blame Dove soap and their high-priced agency for this, but I can't help but be amused at the “Dove Dimensions Summer 2000 Volume 10” newsletter sent to Ms. Paloma D. Rosenfield, who is a Golden Retriever.

The piece itself has all the earmarks of no direct marketing expertise whatsoever. There are no opportunities for dialogue, no Website, no 800-number. You can send a “Real-Life Dove Tale,” though, “to the address below.” There's a little column of “Inspirational Thoughts,” excerpted from “611 Ways to Boost Your Self-Esteem,” among them “Develop a favorite hobby or pastime,” which may explain Paloma's invasions of the flower beds.

Some ad agency–I'm sure long since departed from the Dove stable–used to show a Dove direct mail promotion as a success story, way back in the early ‘80s. Trouble is, when you looked at the mailing package closely, the return coupon wasn't keyed properly, so there was no way to record and analyze results.

· Sierra Western Home Loans, and its various partners in sleaze

I've commented in the past that in the U.S. today's sleaziest mail is the junk put out by 2^nd mortgage purveyors, who combine deception with invasion of privacy. A current masterpiece from Sierra Western typifies the genre.

A brown kraft envelope shouts “EXPRESS DELIVERY,” and a small box contains ‘INSTRUCTIONS TO POSTMASTER,” suggesting something important is going on here. Inside, these sleazemeisters reveal that they know not only where I live, but how much I owe on my house! Only in America, where there's no privacy at all!

A mailing from HMS Capital is even more invasive, as well as obnoxiously familiar in the use of my first name: “Dear James: Our research shows that in July of 1992, you obtained an adjustable mortgage with Bank of America.”

· ROCHESTER BIG & TALL

ROCHESTER BIG & TALL, a clothing catalog for large males, was recently sent to my wife, who is neither large nor male. As near as I can figure, they pegged Freddie as a frequent catalog buyer, and just let it fly. This is California, man! You can be tall, but you can't be BIG, if you know what I mean. (See “611 Ways to Boost Your Self-Esteem,” above.)

· The Humane Society of the United States

“URGENT URGENT URGENT URGENT URGENT Extremely Urgent: Recipient Please Hand Deliver to Addressee

Time Sensitive Materials Inspected Recipient's Name Confirmed

Sender authorizes Shipper to deliver this shipment without obtaining a delivery signature and shall indemnify and hold harmless Shipper from any claims resulting therefrom…

EXPRESS PRIORITY”

This is the outer envelope copy for a fundraising solicitation sent by The Humane Society of the United States.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is junk mail.

SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO NOTICE AN ABSENCE…

Speaking of junk mail, I just realized with a start that the New Year has begun without the usual Publishers Clearing House and American Family Publishers sweepstakes mailings.

I have mixed feelings. Perhaps these folks have gotten their just deserts, but I always harbored a great, if grudging, admiration for their sheer direct marketing skills. Have they now gone dark on us? Is this a sign of the real new millennium beginning?

One thought I have–and I won't know for sure unless I ask these guys, and we don't talk much–is that the mailings they did in 2000, complying with various government demands, simply didn't work. And of course several years of terrible publicity can't help either.

What do you think all the guys are doing? Has the PCH Prize Patrol found honest work as neighborhood watchmen, or perhaps UPS delivery guys? Has Dick Clark, who looks extremely youthful but somewhat mummified, gone off to host sock-hops in a crypt somewhere? And what about Ed McMahon, the classic second banana of them all, a true post-modern icon, famous for being famous? Ed has to be having the last laugh, because that's his style.

Maybe they're all together in Palm Desert, smoking Havanas and drinking martinis, watching the sun set on all the rubes who bought all the magazines all the years that these guys made out like bandits. It's a short story waiting to be written!