It doesn’t send bills. It doesn’t work. But what about the cheap bag you gave out at the fair? It’s working harder than your intern does during tax season.
Totes, drawstring bags, folding shoppers, and burlap bags that appear like they escaped a shipwreck are all examples of promotional merchandise bags that are silent hustlers. They don’t ask for attention. They just go places. Your brand goes with them when they leave.
I noticed a woman at the airport with a bag from a credit union she had been to two years before. Faded. One strap is coming apart. The logo is still there. She wasn’t trying to sell them. She just thought the purse was nice. It had her Kindle, a snack, and a flight permit that was all crumpled up. Easy to use. Useful. Can’t be killed.
That’s the trick. It’s not about the flash. It’s about how it works. It stays if it works. It earns its keep if it folds up small enough to fit in a pocket, can survive a thunderstorm, or can hold a 17-inch laptop.
The longer it stays, the more people will remember your name.
One coffee establishment in Portland provides away thick cotton bags with a cartoon raccoon holding a cappuccino. “Don’t throw away your cup” is the slogan. People argue over them. Not because they are hard to find. Because they are strong. The raccoon is funny. Because they’ve used them to carry groceries, books, and even a small dog (not a good idea, but hey, commitment).
Those bags? They ride motorcycles. In the office. At picnics. The raccoon is currently famous in the area.
You don’t have to spend a lot. A plain tote with a big print is better than a sophisticated bag with a little logo. Visibility is important. Contrast is important. “Can I read your name from across the room?” is important.
I saw a tech business give away elegant black drawstrings with silver foil stamping on them. Looked good. Too sharp. Half of them were gone after three weeks. The foil came off. The fabric got stuck. On the other side of the aisle, the company gave away neon green bags with a plain block script. Not pretty? A little bit. Is it working? A lot. I saw six of them in one week.
It doesn’t matter if it’s pretty. They care if it can hold things.
And here’s the twist: people don’t think of the greatest promo bags as commercials. People use them like tools. A gym gives out drawstrings with their emblem and a funny line: “This bag carries weights.” Not like me. Members use them to hold towels, shoes, and protein shakers. It’s not a brand. It’s a joke for people who know each other. It stays.
Even the ones that are cheap? They have a purpose. A folded poly bag among a pile of conference swag could hold lost coins, cables, or a kid’s rock collection. But it’s still out there. Still visible.
So don’t buy the expensive junk. The balls of stress. The pens that run out in three days.
Give out something that folks will really fill out. Something that lasts through the everyday grind. Something that says, “I’m useful,” while also quietly calling your name.
Because the finest advertising doesn’t yell. It holds.