Let’s start, as always, with a story.
I can’t cook. I’ve never been able to cook, instead relying on a list of staple set-pieces to get me through – pasta and sauce (classic), rice and chicken (dry), onion omelette (oniony), and roast chicken (borderline dangerous). My partner meanwhile can cook – she instinctively knows what goes with what, how to construct a meal and, crucially, how to come back from the supermarket with the things you intended to buy. Like many people we have, in the past, been seduced by Hello Fresh and Gousto. They’re a great concept – give people all the ingredients, some instructions, and like magic, restaurant-style meals.
They’re also the reason I lobbed a pan I was cooking with into the back garden while calling it a “Panny Twat”.
It’s never quite as easy as you think it should be. I’d do the recipes and feel my blood slowly boil – I’d be sautéing a chive while stirring tofu and then I’d casually read the next thing to do on the recipe card and it’d demand I finely chop an onion, an avocado and pear within the next 30 seconds before the chive burns and the tofu explodes. Then my partner would saunter in and pick up the semi-charred pieces. I was bad at it. Bad at it because it was bullshit – bullshit because, it turns out, it’s not a cure for culinary incompetence.
Which gets me nicely, to mailing letters.
We’ve not had either Hello Fresh and Gousto for a while which is why, presumably, Hello Fresh sent us a marketing mailing today. Direct mail is a staple of many arts organisations – from the small essay written by the Artistic Director (that no-one will read), to the plainly repeated marketing copy we’ve used everywhere. Some organisations have sworn off them – “they never worked for us”, “our audience didn’t respond” and “too expensive”. I receive a fair few of these (apologies if I’m on your mailing list) and, increasingly I wonder whether the problem is that our direct mailing letters are, well, “shit”.
There’s the ones printed in black and white, the ones without images, the ones with reams of indecipherable writing, the ones where we include a flyer with identical information, the ones where we put the headshots of people no-one will recognise nor care about, the ones where the paper is like tracing paper, the ones where they arrive a week after the event, and, of course the ones that accompany season brochures that feature a note from the Directors where they repeat exactly what you’re going to read.
Which gets me nicely, to Hello Fresh’s marketing mailing a letter that, caused conversation, debate even, over whether we should resubscribe to their food parcel based service. I started to look more closely and then it dawned on me that I wasn’t reading a double sided A4 letter on nice paper stock – I was looking at the Mozart of Mailings, the Chopin of Circulars, the Picasso’s of Post – you get the picture. It was smart.
Here’s how.
I’ve popped the letters here (with a bit of strategic blurring) – Front and then Back.
Let’s start with Personalisation.
These letter feel like they’ve been produced very specifically for my partner. And it’s not just a simple mail merge – it’s relentless. On the front there’s the big title with her name first – a call-to-action and benefit-lead in big bold font, then repeated in the introduction “Hello Louise” – then in the top right personalised urgency “Louise! Hurry, offer ends 30th June”. Three times on the front page all integrated in a way that feels specific, designed and not like a mail merge from Microsoft Works (yes works) in 1997. Then on the back another couple of time – the big bold statement with her name front and centre, then, more subtly halfway down the page a call to action mixed with a sense of alarm.
The letter drives at Value.
Let me ask you a question – from this letter how much does a box cost? It’s pretty unclear right? The letter’s aim is to make you certain you’re going to purchase before you know the full cost because you’ll already be convinced that it’s great value.
On page one we have that the “First box at just £3.25 £1.62 per serving*” – How many servings are in a box – we’ve no idea, how big are the servings we’ve no idea, are the servings delicious we’ve no idea – what we have certainty of, a quantifiable, clearly understood figure, £1.62 per serving – which is cheap right? Is it? Who knows but it feels like a bargain – in fact even at full-price it looks bargainous. That’s combined with “Free Next Day Delivery” – the concept of something that is “free” is highly motivating – even if it’s a motivator that encourages you to do something straight away. So great value AND free.
Do you know what else feels free as you read it. On page two in the final paragraph – “Plus you’ll now get two or more fruit and veg in every dish – all as part of your subscription”... Does it make you feel like you’re getting something extra for free, as if the box will be straining at the seams when it arrives?
But how do we know what to compare our £1.62 per serving against? Is it good value?
Luckily on the back of the letter a review from Mollie answers the question – “five star meals cooked at home for a fraction of the price of a restaurant meal” – suddenly we’re thinking back, what did we spend last time in a restaurant? Over £1.62? Over £10? Maybe it was over £16?!?
GOOD LORD THIS IS A BARGAIN.
Then we hit on the idea of the Upgrade.
Everyone loves an upgrade – I stayed in a hotel room last week and was given an upgrade – now the hotel was objectively a small step up from a Thai prison cell, but because I had that upgrade I didn’t care – I didn’t care the room didn’t really lock, or that the shower had two settings (blisteringly burning hot or off), or that there were bars across the windows with fag ends on the window sill – because I’d had a free upgrade I felt like I’d somehow gamed the system.
Hello Fresh repeats the idea of upgrades frequently – “More Flavour”, “More Variety” “Added Brand New Ingredients, Flavours and Variety”, “Our Expanded Range”, “Our Expanded Menu”, “More High Quality Ingredients” and, of course ““Plus you’ll now get two or more fruit and veg in every dish – all as part of your subscription”.
Of course it’s not just Hello Fresh who think that Hello Fresh is great – they’ve got recommendations.
Let me introduce Bronagh and Mollie.
Just normal people like you who’ve written an independent review on the most trusted platform “Trustpilot”. And their quotes are masterfully chosen.
Bronagh uses short, easily digestible sentences, gets to the point, reinforces the messages and also suggested that Hello Fresh “Puts the fun back in cooking.”
Mollie meanwhile is a value-driven pragmatist – she’s searching for a bargain and, as it happens she’s found one. Sure she may have been shopping in Harrods weekly previously, and she may be a professional chef for all we know so that her partner is actually getting food that looks like the pictures (unliked the burnt grey mess I frequently produced). She’s an independent voice – they both are – they’re not political – not tied to a newspaper ideology that’s easily dismissed as “woke liberal nonsense” (The Guardian) or “right wing fascists” (Daily Mail) – they’re people just like you and me. Trustworthy and honest.
There’s also a remarkable feeling that this, rejoining Hello Fresh is going to be, well, simple – almost as if everything is in place and it’s simply waiting for me to do the bare minimum.
“Your Discount Is Waiting” is a lovely little phrase – it’s not a discount that you have to have in your back pocket, nor a code you have to remember, there’s no complexity here – your discount is sitting, probably on a step, waiting for you to come and claim them – the discount has already been applied, it exists with or without you.
Then on the front the simplicity of how to claim the offer – three simple steps – the option of a QR code or a very simple URL that’s easy to type, followed by a code that is short and easy to type, then it’s done, you’ve completed the process. IN FACT, when you consider that “select recipes” is step three then is couple be considered a two step process. Also see how at no point do they mention the paying part – only the discount.
(Side Note: There’s a curious inconsistency on the back where it’s a 4 step process in a different order to the 3 step process on the front)
I’ve written loads already and I’ve only just got to the offer. Or maybe it’s offers?
HelloFresh are giving us a deep discount offer – it’s appealing – 50% is a big saving. That’s the headline offer that grabs you to start with. But then they reinforce that offer with… More Offers.
So save 50% first time, then 40% second time. Now 40% is less of a saving but still pretty hearty – probably worth sticking around for… But then they reinforce with… More Offers.
So after you’ve saved 50% first time, then 40% second time, for the next time you’ll save 20%. Now that’s less, clearly – but they strengthen the offer with the frequency of purchase – you’ll save 20% x 5 (see bottom right of page one) and a little bit of your brain goes, “well 20% x 5 is 100%, maybe I’m saving 100%”– this is relationship building.
But is there a reward for your loyalty…. Sure, again bottom right on page one – if you get to your eighth box you’ll be saving 40% again – maybe worth slogging through those 5 x 20% off boxes for (which we’ve already established is probably 100% saving).
It’s repetition, reinforcement, building, enhancing of the offer, layering of numbers that you read and maybe your mental arithmetic isn’t so good – maybe you start to work out that the 50% and the 40% and the 20% x 5 and the 40% again means that you’re getting things for free…
Then the best of the rest…
Simple Reasoning – they take the thinking out of your hands – they don’t allow you to come up with reasons why this is a bad idea (i.e. lobbed pans, mental breakdowns over a tray bake), instead they feed you what to think – “Great Savings”, “Better Flavours, Better variety” and Convenient.
Recognising I’m Time Poor – it’s not just about the food and the taste. It’s about extra value they can give and how they can solve issues in life. Cooking takes ages, it’s time-consuming, convenience is king and they explicitly land it and explain how you, time-poor-you, can save time and make a meal in 15 mins (in your dreams). Why are you time-poor? Because you’re special…
Telling me I’m Special – no-one wants to be part of the herd, we all want to feel special. There’s little suggestions that play to the ego and recognise what you already know – “Everyone is unique” and “Whatever your style” – this is for unique people, with style. Is that you? Of course it is. It’s everything everyone’s ego wants to hear and you order the same products as approximately 100,000 people who are just like you.
Repetition – They say things multiple times. There’s a playwriting adage that if you want audiences to remember something then you plant it three times before you say it – repetition feels on the nose, but it reinforces, makes a memory (if not memorable) and, if done well, works (and they manage to say the same things, multiple times, in marginally different ways making things feel fresh).
Graphics that explain the process – They’re really good at using icons and badges – they tell the story before you read the story – they, if you will, reinforce it… The colour scheme is brilliant – the green (you can’t tell on my photo) feels almost neon – it jumps out and draws the eye.
This is just a small sample of what this letter is doing – I’ve not mention the values-alignment through the environmental messaging (“recyclable cool box”) or the World Land Trust, Red Tractor or FSC logos, nor the way that the imagery pops from the page and is vibrant and, well, fresh… I’ve not even mentioned how they use call and response through those subtitles “Fancy giving us another try” driving into “Louise, Order Now!”
I look at this letter and think if marketing mailings from arts organisations were as good as this – if I received a campaign with all this written in, beautifully designed, layered with smart thinking, fulfilling my needs, with a clarity of message – then maybe I’d forgive the “Panny Twat” incident and try cooking once again.
This was a bit of an impromptu blog post written in… **checks clock** …52 minutes so I’m conscious it’s not perfect. HOWEVER if you enjoyed it then please comment or drop me a message. Also I’m going to be touring a new storytelling show soon, so if you work for a 70 – 150 seat venue and you want to see something quite good about dogs, loneliness and making a house a home, then hit me up.
Night x
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