What the hell is Altoids thinking? Most copy tries to get you to buy the product. Duh. But Altoids gets curiously ambitious on us. They save their best copy for the inside of the tin. Why bother? What good is clever copy once the sale is already made?
Here’s why. Us mint addicts will open that tin like 30 to 40 times. And each time, there’s an opportunity to fully equate the Altoids brand with a feel-good sugar fix. Think about it. I need a mint. I reach for the tin. I go all Pavlov and start drooling everywhere. I open the tin. I see that little folded paper that hides the mint goodness. I read the copy. It’s clever. I chuckle. Laughing rewards my brain receptors, shooting serotonin off like the Fourth of July. (Or whatever. I’m not a brain doctor. You get my point.) I pop a couple mints in my mouth. Sugar rush ensues. Now with the serotonin kick and the sugar rush, my brain’s all Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I’m happy. And kissable.
Now imagine I reached for a mint and there’s only a boring logo on that paper. Or worse, nothing. That’s a missed opportunity 30 to 40 times per tin to take full advantage of the “I need a mint” to “sugar rush” journey.
Good job, Altoids. Your writing does not suck. The only improvement #writelikethis suggests is this: How about a branded clever saying on each mint, you know, like Sweethearts? Just write real small. Or make bigger mints. They could even be curiously large mints, eh?