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'What's the matter, too pussy for this good shit?' How to market pumpkin spice lattes to men

MEN are simple creatures who can easily be convinced to do anything. Here’s how to sell them even the most feminine of beverages.

Imply they’re not man enough for it

Men will go to great lengths to prove that they are alpha chads who are not intimidated by anything, even if the thing in question is drinking a coffee aimed at mums and makeup influencers. A brash slogan like ‘What’s the matter, too pussy for this good shit?’ will get men desperately banging on the windows of Starbucks for a steaming cup of fragile masculinity juice.

Hire the people who shoot car adverts

Whatever they’re doing, it’s working. A flurry of shots showcasing a pumpkin spice latte roaring around winding coastal roads, complete with snappy close-ups of its frothy surface and sleek takeaway cup may sound ridiculous, but the evidence suggests it will speak directly to the part of a man’s brain which says ‘I must purchase that’.

Put product placement in pornography

Marketing is all about putting your product directly in front of your target demographic. And nowhere are there more men than the debauched corners of pornography websites. Get Angela White to blow a barista who is awkwardly holding a pumpkin spice latte to the camera and men will be subliminally inclined to start drinking them.

Hype up its efficiency

Men love drinking Huel because they can drone on endlessly about its nutritional content. Plus it saves them from having to make an actual meal which takes forever and involves a lot of washing up. If pumpkin spice lattes were to follow this lead and market themselves as a squash-infused hydration shake that’s low in fat and high in sodium, they’ll be the drink of choice of tech bro dickheads everywhere.

Photograph a sexy naked lady drinking one

Traditional pumpkin spice latte marketing revolves around cosy, wholesome women wearing bobble hats gently cradling their takeaway cups in crisp autumnal parks. To make them appeal to men, advertisers need to stoop to the aesthetics of lads’ mags. A few snaps of Scarlett Johansson in her pants seductively licking the cinnamony foam from her lips ought to do it.

F**king freshers everywhere: A guide to first term in a university town for non-students

CAN you no longer walk down the high street without being stuck behind a gaggle of self-important slowly-perambulating freshers ? This is your next ten weeks:

Week one: 18-year-olds arrive, set up rooms to reflect as-yet-unformed personalities, go out to get drunk. Every night for seven nights is a stag do held by children.

Week two: Friends and/or sexual partners identified, lectures begin. Specifically freshers lecturing each other about their favourite films, music and traumas loudly in public places.

Week three: As week two but even louder and shriller to be heard over all the other students doing the same.

Week four: Laptop week. Confronted with essay deadlines, freshers transform town centre coffee shops into places to work, play and bray deafeningly.

Week five: Reading week. Freshers who had never set foot in your town before September confidently guide long-distance partners around its six most obvious attractions like f**king natives.

Week six: Weeding week. Freshers decide, since they are so young and cool, they can smoke skunk while walking through the city centre and even past police. The consequences can be enjoyed as a spectator.

Week seven: Halloween. Like the first week, but even more entitled and wearing outfits which combine wit, poor judgement and a desperation to be noticed. You are privileged to see the cream of the intellectual crop vomit into fountains while dressed as Trans Rights Batman.

Week eight: Drop-out week. Having spent their entire year’s student loan, a number of freshers decide university is not for them. Crowds outside Urban Outfitters clutching vinyl thin a little.

Week nine: Preparation week. Aware they return to their home towns soon, freshers seek to consolidate their new personalities in their clothing, hair and tattoos. Avoid anywhere supplying the above.

Week ten: F**k off week. All students f**k off and the town centre is once again tolerable for ordinary decent local pissheads. The only freshers left are grudgingly pulling your pint.

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