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by Denny Hatch
If any organization has put a stamp on modern direct mail, it's not the U.S.Postal Service, but rather the recently retired, two-man creative team of Pittsburgh-born freelance copywriter Bill Jayme and Finnish designer Heikki Ratalahti.
In a four-decade partnership, their stylish direct mail solicitations launched some three dozen magazines including New York, Smithsonian, Bon Appetit, Food & Wine, Cooking Light, Air & Space, Louis Rukeyser's Wall Street, Worth, Saveur, Tufts Nutrition Letter, Mother Jones and the Harvard Medical School Health Letter. In their heyday, Jayme-Ratalahti had a five-month queue of publishers and circulation managers, hats in hand, ready to pony up $20,000 to $40,000 for a single direct mail package—not bad for two weeks' work, but well worth it when the launch mailing brings in so many subscribers that investors will eagerly pop for $5 million to $10 million, or more, to start the magazine.
The Beginning
In the late 1940s, Jayme ran out of money during his senior year at Princeton and moved to New York, where he became a messenger at Young & Rubicam, a major Madison Avenue advertising agency. On the side, he wrote for television and had a drama produced at the old "Studio One." When he applied for a job at Time-Life, no editorial positions were available, but the legendary Frank Johnson offered him a job in the circulation department.
More than once over the years, Johnson has complained how he hates being famous for the so-called "Johnson Box"—that headline at the top of a direct mail letter, usually surrounded by a rectangle of asterisks. In fact, Johnson doesn't believe he invented it. He would much rather be remembered for the giant 17˝x22˝ circulars that he created for Time-Life and, later, American Heritage—those splendidly gaudy bed sheets that kept on unfolding until they dominated everything in the room.
Jayme's first assignment from Johnson was a subscription acquisition effort for Life magazine, then celebrating its 15th anniversary. What came out of Jayme's typewriter became known as the "Cool Friday" letter that broke all the previously accepted rules of direct mail.
First off, Jayme never got around to the offer nor why he was writing until the 16th paragraph at the bottom of the second page ("And today we are inviting you to join them as a regular LIFE reader at a very special introductory rate ..."). What's more, the price was not mentioned until nine paragraphs later on page three—the last page of the letter.
If any organization has put a stamp on modern direct mail, it's not the U.S.Postal Service, but rather the recently retired, two-man creative team of Pittsburgh-born freelance copywriter Bill Jayme and Finnish designer Heikki Ratalahti.
In a four-decade partnership, their stylish direct mail solicitations launched some three dozen magazines including New York, Smithsonian, Bon Appetit, Food & Wine, Cooking Light, Air & Space, Louis Rukeyser's Wall Street, Worth, Saveur, Tufts Nutrition Letter, Mother Jones and the Harvard Medical School Health Letter. In their heyday, Jayme-Ratalahti had a five-month queue of publishers and circulation managers, hats in hand, ready to pony up $20,000 to $40,000 for a single direct mail package—not bad for two weeks' work, but well worth it when the launch mailing brings in so many subscribers that investors will eagerly pop for $5 million to $10 million, or more, to start the magazine.
The Beginning
In the late 1940s, Jayme ran out of money during his senior year at Princeton and moved to New York, where he became a messenger at Young & Rubicam, a major Madison Avenue advertising agency. On the side, he wrote for television and had a drama produced at the old "Studio One." When he applied for a job at Time-Life, no editorial positions were available, but the legendary Frank Johnson offered him a job in the circulation department.
More than once over the years, Johnson has complained how he hates being famous for the so-called "Johnson Box"—that headline at the top of a direct mail letter, usually surrounded by a rectangle of asterisks. In fact, Johnson doesn't believe he invented it. He would much rather be remembered for the giant 17˝x22˝ circulars that he created for Time-Life and, later, American Heritage—those splendidly gaudy bed sheets that kept on unfolding until they dominated everything in the room.
Jayme's first assignment from Johnson was a subscription acquisition effort for Life magazine, then celebrating its 15th anniversary. What came out of Jayme's typewriter became known as the "Cool Friday" letter that broke all the previously accepted rules of direct mail.
First off, Jayme never got around to the offer nor why he was writing until the 16th paragraph at the bottom of the second page ("And today we are inviting you to join them as a regular LIFE reader at a very special introductory rate ..."). What's more, the price was not mentioned until nine paragraphs later on page three—the last page of the letter.
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