Sales Letter for Campari

Here’s the first paragraph of a letter I wrote for the aperitif, Campari. Note that the brief mentioned that it took three drinks to get hooked to Campari, and the creative idea - 'pause a little' reflected that bit of information.

The Envelope line says:

Pause a little before you open this envelope.

The Campari Letter:

Dear Mr. Sample,

I requested you to ‘Pause a little before you open this envelope’ because I have reason to believe that you make conscious decisions. There is just such a pause before the realisation of genius.

Here I have answered why I’m writing to him. I believe he is a conscious decision maker. By the way, according to the address database we sent these mailings to, he is one of those who is a connoisseur of good alcohol. Of course, Campari is not alcohol, being bitters-based and blended with 103 herbs, and an aperitif, but being a drinker, he’s bound to try Campari.

I am also telling him that he is about to realise genius.

In the second paragraph he reads:

Genius is never easy on the tongue. I speak here of a legend of a drink that is cherished by discerning palates all over the world.

Once again I’m paying him a compliment. Obviously he too has a discerning palate. And why is genius not easy on the tongue? Because (as he reads on to discover), it is said it takes 3 drinks to render a palate loyal to Campari.

Paragraph three reads:

I speak of Campari, its sensual, warm, passionate and romantic taste has led me to many an adventure round the world. It’s unique taste opens doors through which beckon those things that are never by chance. No masterpiece comes by chance. Especially not Campari.

Here, I finally reveal Campari. I’m also leading him into the brochure that narrates Galantino’s adventures round the world. Round the world because the client wants the international quality of the drink to come through. These adventures of Galantino are three in number as you will discover in the brochure (in a Direct Mail pack, each element must lead to another – and in sequence: the envelope to the letter to the brochure (if any) and finally to the Response Device.) – so he has three tastes of Campari. The baseline is ‘Never by Chance’, which is why I draw attention to how nothing of genius comes by chance.

The fourth paragraph reads:

You would be interested perhaps in what Enzo Visone from Davide Campari had to say about you at the launch in 1994 when McDowell’s proudly introduced the drink to India: “We are confident that India’s discerning elite will respond enthusiastically to this exclusive aperitif.”

This quote adds credibility to our claims and pays another compliment to the reader; this time from the mouth of one of the top men in the company that manufactures Campari. I am reiterating the reason for writing to him.

And of course, the reader should believe it because he's being offered a complimentary drink, and what could be better than experiencing the promise of Campari for himself?

And the fifth and final paragraph:

As for myself, I am never without my bottle of Campari. Indeed, no Campari, no story to tell. As you will find with the enclosed ADVENTURES WITH CAMPARI. And after you have enjoyed (I hope) the story of my own discovery, and learned more about this adventurous drink, I believe you will be moved to accept two complimentary drinks of Campari at your favourite restaurant. To be subtly served, simply take your Campari Privilege along. And after you have enjoyed the taste that has set so many hearts on fire, fill in your name and address on the reverse of The Campari Privilege and the bartender will take care of the rest. After all, nothing wonderful happens by chance!

Ciao,

Galantino

In this final paragraph, I finally draw attention to the writer of this letter – Galantino. Creating this imaginary character made it easier for me to warm up to the reader and have fun with him. I ask him to look at the brochure – ‘Adventures with Campari’. And I urge him to act by offering him two complimentary drinks of Campari. I once again focus on the baseline – ‘Never by Chance’. For his tasting the drink too is not by chance. It is being offered exclusively to him.

The P.S. in the letter speaks of how exclusive Campari is once again, make him the offer and give him a deadline. The P.S is the most read part of the letter and must have the essence of it all. It always increases the response rate.

P.S: I must add that Campari is concocted from 103 herbs and only three men on earth know its secret recipe. Here then, is your first taste with my compliments. And I assure you it is not the last. Just make sure you drink it the way your Campari Privilege tells you to. This offer is open till February 15, 1998.

This brings me once again to humourous copywriting because my Campari creative has a lot of humour in it, especially when it comes to the story told in the brochure. If humour is written successfully, as research shows, it can really grab attention and sales. This is emotion at work again.

Emotion is the only way to go when a product offers no USP- the Unique selling Point. (Campari of course has a USP.) But once you establish the emotion, get on with the selling.

And now for the real fun part of this mailing, the brochure. Notice how Campari is interwoven throughout it and is the real hero. ‘No Campari’, as says Galantino in the letter, ‘no story to tell’.

Cover Headline:

Adventures with Campari

Page 1. The Great Seduction

Think of what they did to Galileo who claimed the earth went round the sun. Think of the brilliant Van Gogh who sold only one painting in his lifetime. Think of the composer Stravinsky who suffered public ridicule with his first concert.

Genius is never easy on the tongue. It grows on you.

This serves as introduction to the adventures and carries forward the theme of the mailer: the idea that it takes three drinks of Campari to get hooked. The client wanted to convey the international essence of this drink, which is why Galantino tastes Campari in three different locations round the world.

Page 2 Bitter

It was one of those mornings after, and a friend, also suffering from a hangover, hurtled into my apartment in Milan with a bottle of the reddest drink I had ever seen. Not just any red. A red with glints of fire. “This will do the trick,” said he, “Do you have some orange juice and ice?”

What can I say about that first sip? Decidedly bitter. “Pfaff!” I cried.

“Why Galantino,” said he, “this is the drink of the elite. The drink of prime ministers! Indeed, in Brazil, they think of it as an aphrodisiac. Drink it three times and you’ll never drink anything else again.”

“An aphrodisiac you say?” I asked, and downed the glassful in a couple of gulps. The clouds in my head cleared. My friend looked like he was going to finish the bottle.

Page 3 Bitter-Sweet

That evening I took my new girlfriend out for the first time. “What will you drink?” I asked after telling her how beautiful she looked in her red dress.

“Campari, of course, thank you,” she said rather stiffly.

“You too?” I asked.

“My favourite,” said she. “But you’ve got to drink it the right way.”

It was Campari with soda this time. Bitter, yet sweet. As I rolled it on my tongue, I could taste many more flavours I hadn’t noticed before.

“What do they put in it?” I asked, intrigued.

“103 herbs, some bitters, and distilled water. But what the herbs are, nobody knows. Except three men on earth. Like it?” She smiled at me tantalisingly.

“It grows on you,” I said. I thought then that Campari was the most seductive drink I had ever tasted. The taste sneaked into your senses slowly but surely.

Page 4 Sweet Seduction

A week later, I was at an embassy bash in Paris. All those famous lips sipping Campari.

“This time I’m not getting tempted,” I determined, and refusing the offering of the drink, I went out into the gardens for a breath of fresh air. There were fountains everywhere and marble statues of Venus and Michelangelo’s David, and as I strolled by Bacchus, God of Wine, a marble hand shot out with a glass of Campari in it.

“You can’t escape Campari,” said an ancient voice.

So I took it.

It was like Pompeii. Mount Vesuvius erupting on the tongue. Thick, creamy, bitter-sweet, brimming with passion and sensuality. There was no turning back now. The seduction was complete.

Page 5

May you enjoy your own discovery of Campari, the world’s most famous drink, the drink of the elite, of connoisseurs and those with a discerning palate. Do take the Campari Privilege to your favourite watering hole and you will be subtly served. And remember, this invitation comes to you because of who you are. Never by chance.

Galantino, December 1997