Whereupon Mrs. McChesney's smile grew into a laugh. "Forgive me,
T.A. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because--well, I can't
tell you why. It's a woman's reason, and you wouldn't think it a
reason at all. For that matter, I suppose it isn't, but--Anyway,
I've got something to tell you. The fault of this campaign has
been the copy. It was perfectly good advertising, but it left the
public cold. When they read those ads they might have been
impressed with the charm of the garment, but it didn't fill their
breasts with any wild longing to possess one. It didn't make the
women feel unhappy until they had one of those skirts hanging on
the third hook in their closet. The only kind of advertising that
is advertising is the kind that makes the reader say, 'I'll have
one of those.'"

T.A. Buck threw out helpless hands. "What are we going to do about
it?"

"Do? I've already done it."

"Done what?"

"Written the kind of copy that I think Featherlooms ought to have.
I just took my knowledge of Featherlooms, plus what I knew about
human nature, sprinkled in a handful of good humor and sincerity,
and they're going to feed it to the public. It's the same recipe
that I used to use in selling Featherlooms on the road. It used to
go by word of mouth. I don't see why it shouldn't go on paper. It
isn't classic advertising. It isn't scientific. It isn't even what
they call psychological, I suppose. But it's human. And it's going