Cadillac’s “How to add luxury” Ad

Some of the tactics here are long in the tooth. For example, they’re selling features, not benefits (and your customers don’t care what you’re selling them, they only care what they can achieve with it).

However, the structure is excellent.

1. Hook. “How to add luxury to your life without adding cost.” Your first reaction is probably mild puzzlement. Adding luxury seems impossible — a paradox. Curiosity will make you want to see how they explain this one away.

2. Twist the knife. Don’t tell them “how” right away. Twisting the knife primes your reader, so they’re even more receptive to the “how.” “You can spend an awful lot of money, trying to turn a full-size car into a full-size luxury car.”

3. The remedy. “But, with a Cadillac… Luxury is standard equipment.”

4. Details on the remedy — backing the claim with substance. “Luxury features like…” Again, as a rule, avoid selling features. But back in the day, these were probably similar to how we see self-driving today. That, and novelty gets a pass in post-war America.

5. A strong, bold CTA that makes it easy to buy. “See your Mid-America Cadillac Dealers.” With a map, gosh darn it. “I don’t know where the nearest dealer is, I gotta look it up” — no, you don’t. It’s all right there. You have a literal map guiding you to adding luxury “without adding cost.” A map to solving your pain.

Also, the obligatory — who cares about complete sentences? “Adding a lot of options that you end up paying extra for.”

Complete sentences don’t win. Complete ideas do.

You glance at your watch.

It’s 6:28. You’ve been at it since 3.
Crap. Your hot date is at 7. Running late. Sink shower it is.
Nowhere close to done editing…

“…at least all the ideas are laid out, so there’s that. Did I miss anything? I don’t think so? Ok, but how do I make it flow? I need to get the final draft to Stacey for design asap, team cutoff is at noon Thursday…”

You’ve spent dinner completely distracted. Your date just took off. You go home exhausted, plod to your desk, and crack open the laptop.

Or… it could go like this:

5:41 — you’re out of the shower and lip-syncing.
6:17 — dressed to the nines and zenned out.
7:03 — the sunset glints off your aviators as you smile hello.
8:36 — it actually feels like you’re hitting it off. Not just hot, funny to boot.
Next morning, 10:27 — polished draft ready in your inbox.
10:31 — Stacey messages back, “thanks, looks good!”

The difference?

You had Copygloss handle it yesterday afternoon.

For help with editing, email Dan:
[email protected].