I got two emails this week. Both offering me something free. Both hoping I'd bite.
One worked. One didn't.
And it got me thinking about where creativity actually lives in marketing. Because it's not always where you'd expect.
Let's start with Bitly.
Their email opened with this: "Data is annoying."
Then it walked me through a clever little arc. Data is annoying (like screen time reports). Data is awesome (like step goals). Data is interesting (like that stat about italic fonts increasing purchase intent by 31%).
And then, because they're in on the joke, they put their discount in italics.
The offer: 3 months free on any annual plan.
Look, I get what they were going for. The copy is self-aware. It's playful. It's trying to be the fun brand in a sea of boring SaaS emails.
But here's the thing: I didn't feel like they were talking to me. I felt like I was watching a copywriter audition. The cleverness became the point. And somewhere between the italic joke and the "drawer where I keep my special offers" bit, I lost interest.
It's not that it was bad. It just didn't land.
This is also the third or fourth email I've gotten from Bitly in this campaign. And each one has had that same trying-hard energy. At some point, clever stops feeling clever and starts feeling like noise.
The creativity was all in the delivery. The voice. The performance. But none of it helped me understand why I should care about Bitly right now. What problem it solves for me today. Why this moment matters.
When creativity lives only in the copy, it can start to feel like a mask. Something to distract from the fact that the message underneath isn't that compelling.
Now let's talk about MarketerHire.
Their email was promoting a tool called Air. Asset management, version control, creative workspace, all in one place. I'd been meaning to give it a whirl for the last month or so, but it never quite made my daily top 3.
Here's how they opened:
"Air has been where 3,000+ brands organize, approve, and manage every creative asset in one visual workspace."
Not flashy. Not clever. Just clear.
They dropped a few names, explained what's new, and then this line: "We don't partner with many tools. When we recommend something to our community, it's because we trust it."
That's a brand saying, "We've done the vetting so you don't have to."
The offer: A full year of Air Starter, free. $300 value.
Here's what makes this even more interesting: this is the first email of its kind I've gotten from MarketerHire in the six months I've been on their list. They don't bombard. They don't chase. They showed up once, with something worth my attention, and got out of the way.
I clicked. I signed up.
Why did this one work?
Part of it was timing. I'd been thinking about Air, and this email gave me the nudge I needed to finally act. A free year changed the math. It gave me runway. Time to build the system, upload the assets, create the structure. And by the time that year is up? I'll have skin in the game. Switching will feel like work.
That's smart strategy on their part.
But it wasn't just the offer. It was the way they delivered it. No performance. No cleverness for cleverness' sake. Just confidence. Clarity. A reason to trust them.
The creativity here wasn't in the copy. It was in the positioning. In the curation. In the choice to recommend one tool, explain why, and let me decide.
So what does MarketerHire get out of this?
Probably a partnership deal. Maybe affiliate revenue. But also something harder to measure: goodwill.
I now associate MarketerHire with quality recommendations. They've positioned themselves as a filter, not a firehose. Next time they tell me something is worth my attention, I'll probably believe them.
Creativity isn't just how you write the email. It's in the strategy. Knowing when to send it. What to recommend. And when to stay quiet.
The boring brand trap:
Many brands think creativity means clever copy. Wordplay. Jokes. A "voice."
And yes, those things can be part of it. But creativity isn't just how you say something. It's what you choose to say. How you position. What you curate. What you leave out.
Bitly put all their creative energy into the performance. MarketerHire put theirs into the product and the partnership.
One felt like entertainment. The other felt like value.
Both emails are sitting in my inbox. But only one of them changed my behavior.
One more thing:
I've been thinking a lot about creativity lately. Not just in brand work, but in life. Where it shows up. What it actually means. How we practice it, or don't.
More on that soon.
In the meantime, I'm curious: what about creativity interests you? Hit reply and tell me.
— Michelle
Un-Boring Brand of the Week: Frøya Organics
Speaking of creativity in unexpected places, let's talk about shipping notifications.
Most of them are purely functional. "Your order has shipped." A tracking number. Maybe a delivery date if you’re lucky.
Frøya Organics does something different. Their shipping emails read like Norse poetry:
"With morning gold and dawn's first kiss, the gods prepared your radiant bliss. Send forth the glow! cried Frøya's light, to bless Michelle with youthful might."
Is it over the top? Hell yes.
But it's also impossible to ignore. It's on-brand. It's playful. It made me smile instead of archive.
Most shipping notifications feel like a receipt from a robot. This one felt like a nudge from the gods.
That's the difference between forgettable and retellable. Frøya took a transactional moment and turned it into an experience. They didn't just tell me my order shipped. They made me excited for it to arrive.
Creativity doesn't have to live in the big campaigns. Sometimes it shows up in the smallest touchpoints. The places most brands don't bother to try.