Why the Footpath Outside My Dentist Is the Best Piece of Marketing I’ve Seen This Year
I didn’t plan to walk past the dentist. I had a chicken banh mi in one hand, a lukewarm oat flat white in the other, and no intention of engaging with health-related signage. And yet. There it was: five chalk drawings of wonky teeth, each getting progressively straighter, like a dental evolution chart done by a kid with a pastel addiction. Beneath the last one, written in slightly smudged cursive, it read: "Your smile deserves an upgrade. So does your Tuesday."
It was brilliant. Not because it was clever (although it absolutely was), but because it wasn’t trying too hard. It caught me in a moment of low mental bandwidth. No pop-up, no ironic tone, no hyper-polish. Just a strategic hunk of pavement real estate and someone with a pack of chalk and a point to prove. In a world where every brand screams for your attention at 150 decibels, this thing whispered—and it worked.
The bigger trick, though, was context. That stretch of footpath is a bit of a no-man’s-land. No shops, no seating, just a long trudge between the bus stop and somewhere you don’t quite want to go. Using it as a media surface turns a dead zone into a live moment. And live moments are where good marketing lives. Not in algorithms or battle-planned digital funnels, but in awkward slivers of time when people are bored and open.
This isn’t a call to arms for everyone to start drawing on the footpath. It’s a reminder that retail design and clever marketing often leak into each other—not through expensive installations or sterile activations, but through sheer thoughtfulness. The audience didn’t sign up for your message. They definitely didn’t RSVP. So when it sneaks up on them and still manages to land, that’s not luck. That’s craft.
It was brilliant. Not because it was clever (although it absolutely was), but because it wasn’t trying too hard. It caught me in a moment of low mental bandwidth. No pop-up, no ironic tone, no hyper-polish. Just a strategic hunk of pavement real estate and someone with a pack of chalk and a point to prove. In a world where every brand screams for your attention at 150 decibels, this thing whispered—and it worked.
The bigger trick, though, was context. That stretch of footpath is a bit of a no-man’s-land. No shops, no seating, just a long trudge between the bus stop and somewhere you don’t quite want to go. Using it as a media surface turns a dead zone into a live moment. And live moments are where good marketing lives. Not in algorithms or battle-planned digital funnels, but in awkward slivers of time when people are bored and open.
This isn’t a call to arms for everyone to start drawing on the footpath. It’s a reminder that retail design and clever marketing often leak into each other—not through expensive installations or sterile activations, but through sheer thoughtfulness. The audience didn’t sign up for your message. They definitely didn’t RSVP. So when it sneaks up on them and still manages to land, that’s not luck. That’s craft.