You'll notice, gentlemen, that I
have no easels to unveil to you
So I've noticed.
You'll see no pictures of any
kind...because there are none.
The occupants of the room all look at one another anxiously.
I'm not going to bombard you with
images because the Glade brand is
not about clever artwork. The Glade
brand represents something else.
Don removes his jacket and grips the back of Mr. Harum's chair.
What do you do with a glass of
brandy before you drink it?
I smell it.
Don points to Roger.
That's right. You smell it.
Don goes over to the windows and draws the shades. The room dims.
We're so overloaded with sights,
with sounds...we forget a sense
equally as important--no--more
important as all the
Don walks back to the center of the room.
Napolean's wife Josephine wore
violet-scented perfume, and when
she died, Napolean picked violets
and placed them in a locket he wore
around his neck, so that every time
he smelled them he could remember
Helen Keller. An incredible woman.
But she could neither see nor hear.
What did that leave her with?
Smell. That's how she processed her
world. In fact, she wrote an entire
chapter of a book about it.
"A whiff of the universe makes us
dream of worlds we have never seen,
recalls in a flash entire epochs of
our dearest experience," she wrote.
Don removes three candles and a lighter from his pocket and places them on the table.
Joan, will you light these for me
Your mom's homemade apple pie. A
walk in the woods. Running in
between laundry hanging outside.
These are moments you capture
without needing cameras. You trap
them in wax instead.
Glade candles are just like
photographs...imprints of feelings.
But unlike photographs, which can
be underexposed, or too bright, not
quite right--your candles offer
your customers the same experience,
but with a soft glow and comforting
And sometimes photos are just too
much. Too vivid. Too harsh.
And that's why customers need your
Customers need your product not
just to freshen their homes, but to
soften the edges of their memories.
Glade. Soften the edges.
The room falls silent. The candles continue to glow. Roger and Joan look at one another. Mr. Harum stares pensively into the flames.