Cheeky copy from this Aussie tie brand will make you smile all the way

Elizabeth Befus
7 min readDec 1, 2020

All the ways OTAA wows with words—and one sneaky place they don’t (yet)

Guy riding a T-rex, at an active volcano, wearing polka-dot socks, hoisting a beer

I don’t often jump at the chance to buy a man’s tie. A necessary evil, ties are ties are ties. Seen one, you’ve seen them all. But when my partner’s tie drawer started looking picked over and wilty, with ties the color of rotting fruit, I begrudingly went on the hunt.

And I’m *delighted* by what I found.

Meet OTAA, the Australian-based clothier who makes ties and associated paraphernalia (pineapple lapel pin, anyone?). The copy and visuals on their website, emails, and packaging are so catchy that I was compelled to buy a few ties on the spot. Thankfully, their ties are pretty dandy, too.

Here are the highlights of how OTAA gets extra creative with copy.

Wow on the web

From the get-go, I could see that buying a tie from OTAA was going to be out of the ordinary. Their website is, in a word, fun. The language and images have a touch of whimsy that I didn’t expect when buying a formal, stuffy tie.

I found myself trawling their site, on a quest for hidden word gems. And they’re everywhere. On their About page, they poke fun at their more outrageous designs:

All designs are brewed up at OTAA — the animals, the paisleys, the good, the bad, the ones that make you think, ‘Who in their right mind would wear that?’

Their wedding guide invites you to work with their stylist. Who is, of course, a gorilla. Excuse me, a lowlands gorilla.

This is why we hired a lowlands gorilla with a highly trained eye for style. We give him one fresh banana every day and in exchange he’ll help you find the perfect colour match, offer expert styling advice or otherwise assist you on your way to a legendary look for the perfect wedding.

And, blink and you’ll miss it, they share proof points on the Home page in the form of a “raving” review:

“These neckties are pretty alright, I guess.”

Bonus, they offer the best reason ever to sign up for an email newsletter:

There’s this guy we hired, who lives on a lonely island with crummy satellite internet connection. His only job is to send great emails. If he doesn’t, we cut off his internet.

Pop your products

You betcha that the clever copy continues when they describe their hundreds of products. Like so:

When designing this San Pietro Orange Floral Pocket Square, we hired a special consultant. His name was Mr. Bond, not to be confused with James Bond. Our Mr. Bond was a short Italian guy with a wispy goatee. He said, “You know, this San Pietro Orange Floral Handkerchief is, you know, one of the best designs I’ve ever seen.”

And I can’t help but point out this fun tidbit they added to the aforementioned pineapple lapel pin.

When Christopher Columbus encountered the pineapple in Guadeloupe in 1493 he named it pina de Indes, or “pine of the Indians”. He brought the peculiar fruit back to Spain with him and it became the first bromeliad plant to be introduced outside of the New World.

Anytime you can use words like bromeliad on your website, you win.

Engage in email

This is another place where OTAA really takes things up a notch. They don’t send the sorts of emails you skim. They send the sort you savor. After all, it’s boring to tell people that you shipped their order, snore. But it’s a lot less boring when you tell a vivid story—with chopsticks and satin.

All told, they sent me five emails about my order.

Email #1: Getting the order

First up, they told me that a) they have a monkey, and b) the monkey threw a party to celebrate my order. Their enthusiasm was infectious. They also welcomed me to their ship, get it?

The debut email also featured this gem:

Otherwise, your parcel will end up lost in the bottom of the ocean, carefully watched over by an octopus (and getting that back is super hard).

Email #2: Shipping the order

The next missive is their pièce de résistance, an oft-quoted email on the internet. I rather fancy the idea of my package being on an epic journey. And it gets better from there. So good, I read every word.

“We picked out your order by gently picking it from the shelves with Japanese chopsticks and placing it on a silk pillow.

We had a specially trained team of excommunicated runway models to look at your order to make sure it was perfect. They all gasped in amazement of how good your choice of OTAA gear was. One of them rolled over and went into tears — he no longer works with us.

Once that part was done, our small team of 9 people got together and celebrated your order by baking a cake with your name on it. After the celebration, we carefully packed your item into our extremely rare packaging that was designed by the same guy who invented Glad Wrap (at least he told us).

We then happily marched down to the post office with your parcel and waved with a single tear, ‘Goodbye’ — your order has now been sent.”

Email #3: Asking for a review

Next up, they don’t just ask for a review. They challenge me to make it “humorous, creative, whatever you’d like.” Challenge accepted: I lavished them with praise for their brand language.

Email #4: Thanks for the review

The scintillating email exchange didn’t stop there. Right after leaving a review, I was rewarded with an astronaut—in a bow tie. They also dubbed me a legend.

Email #5: Replying to the review

Nope, we’re not done. A few days later, I was pleasantly surprised to see that they had *responded* to my review. It even feels personal, as they gave a nod to the specific things I wrote about, like the email and packaging copy.

Boost the box

As if all of the above weren’t enough, OTAA also brought their AA-game to their packaging. Inside their dapper box, I found a little card that encouraged me to keep the box. Smart cookies, those OTAA brothers. In sight, in mind.

And while I did, indeed, keep the box, I unfortunately neglected to keep the card itself. :/ The gist was something like this:

We spent a pretty penny on this box, so we hope you’ll keep and use it for years to come. It’s great for storing baseball cards, an alligator tooth collection, whatever.

(If anyone has the actual copy on hand, let me know!)

Play with promo codes

Come holiday time, I also noticed that the OTAA team had fun with their promo copy. Their 2020 Black Friday code? BLACKYETI.

A huge yes to the yeti.

It just goes to show—every bit of copy, no matter how small, is an opportunity to tie back to your brand and connect with your reader.

Don’t forget the fine print

This is the only nook and cranny I could find where OTAA doesn’t keep the over-the-top copy rolling. Nerdy, wordy writer that I am, I gleefully clicked their privacy policy. As one does.

I expected to be regaled with the tale of how they have a giant trusty, crusty lobster doing battle against pirates and other ne’er-do-wells. Instead, it’s pretty standard fare. They stayed in lockstep with the lawyers, which is admittedly a safe thing to do when it comes to not getting sued. Safe, but not better. It’s possible—and preferable—to make your fine print both ironclad *and* conversational. You want it to still sound like you.

So hey OTAA, please have your Bradley Cooper look-a-like throw in a Brachiosaurs or two into your cookies policy. At the very least, a fresh banana.

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Elizabeth Befus

Writer + aesthete. I write about ways to be more positive and creative in work and life. Find me at glossarie.xyz.