My boyfriend has had the same pair of trainers for 10 years.

They gape open at the front like foul-mouthed foot puppets, letting in water and dirt and debris and leeches and ticks and all manner of foreign material.

Not too long ago, we did a 32km day hike. No prizes for guessing what George wrapped around his feet.

It’s inspiring, really. George is proof that we don’t need a new pair of shoes every five minutes. Quality shoes can last years - decades, especially with the right care - and his thriftiness is exactly what’s needed to put the brakes on waste and stride into a sustainable future.

In saying that, I just bought a new pair of kicks*.

Gimme a break, will you? You’ll understand why I couldn’t resist in a mo.

I tripped over Radical Yes online - a ferociously flat-footed local footwear business with aesthetics, ethics and branding to make your toes all sweaty with lust.

As well as crafting beautiful shoes, they nail great copy, showcasing a brilliantly conceived brand personality that’s consistent at every touchpoint. Radical Yes succeed at sticking in the minds (and hearts) of their shoppers long after checkout - and much of that is thanks to words.

Of course, being a sucker for beautiful copy AND thoughtfully made footwear was the double-whammy, judgement-impairing punch to my anti-consumerist-tendencies that had a pair of patent leather booties (complete with shearling wool lining) sitting in my basket in two shakes of a lamb’s tail (as it was shorn for the above fashion purpose).

And because the whole experience was so excellent, I compiled a few choice lessons from the smart soles at Radical Yes that might help you in your branding and writing endeavours.

Here we go.

Pick a radically memorable name

Radical Yes. An unexpected combo of power words that feels like an affirmation, a mission. Before you even take a squiz at their product, Radical Yes invites you to be part of something offbeat and exciting, simply by having a superpunchy name. And for fashion-forward thinkers whose shoes are an extension of their personal, political and environmental beliefs, that’s like crack.

Do this: If you’re throwing around names for your business or venture, consider how words feel in the mouth, thrum in the ears, carry rhythm or power or weight… beyond their definition. If in doubt, ditch the puns and dig around for powerful, memorable words that aren’t readily associated with your industry - and of course, test them out for adverse reactions. (Sometimes there’s a ghastly euphemism or street meaning lurking within your well-intentioned moniker. This hasn’t not happened to me. Hem.)

Coin a radical mission statement

Flat Shoe Liberation. Radical Yes is on a mission to free feet from the tyranny of unnatural elevation - and it’s called Flat Shoe Liberation. In coining the phrase and scattering it around their website and socials, they rise above the one-dimensional offerings of their tinea-encrusted counterparts and stand out. These are shoes with substance. Shoes you can get emotional about. Shoes you’ll talk about at dinner parties and spruik to strangers on the street. Who’d ever wear heels again?

Do this: Give people a reason to care about (and rally behind) your product, getting clear on what you stand for and what you stand against. Distill your mission into a phrase or sentence, use liberally in copy and comms, and you’ve just hacked that sales slump.

Create a radical brand vocab

Stay radical! Like Steve Irwin, Jamie Oliver and countless iconic celebs, Radical Yes have crafted their own radical lexicon that inspires delight (and ensures you remember them). They sign off emails with Stay Radical!, pay you compliments like We think you’re radical and even address their postal orders to Radical Catie Payne… or whatever your name is plus a radical prefix. These tiny-yet-mighty touches give shoppers and window-lickers something to smile about, something to recognise, and something to make them feel all warm, fuzzy and familiar every time they interact with your brand.

Do this: Develop a brand voice. Don’t be afraid to deviate from standard industry speak. Brainstorm words and phrases that suit your brand’s personality, and weave them throughout. Importantly, find the small, short, or transactional bits of copy in your business and make ‘em work for you. Things like order confirmation pages, reminders, invoices, email signatures, the words on your packaging… prime personality real estate! Many brands/businesses/companies overlook these opportunities to inject personality and flair - but you don’t have to, you crafty millionaire.

* So, what about that asterix? It happened like this: I got the shoes, tried them on, and had a big old ponder about their place in my increasingly functional wardrobe. While they are certified fab, my feet are already well shod - and thus, I returned them. Radical remorse is real. The lessons still stand. If you want my spurned pair, grab ‘em while they’re warm.

My mate runs a crêpe stall at one of the most famous weekend markets in the world.

She’s French, and whips piping hot and tender skins off the skillet, oozing chocolate, lemon curd, ham, eggs and cheese while maintaining perfect hair.

The other day, she asked me to take over for three months while she took off around Australia.

Sure thing, I said. Looks easy enough.

Bless my ignorance.

Making crepes sent me back to kindergarten and spanked my derriere. Hard.

Who knew these simple street snacks were so tricky?

Before trying it myself, I never appreciated the skill required to ladle batter onto an edgeless surface hotter than the face of the sun, whirl that batter into a wafer-thin circle using a quaint wooden paddle (without tears, breaks or lumps, mind you) then perform pancake puppetry with a metal spatula to manoeuvre and fill the damn thing with runny condiments, and plate it up for a hungry punter - all in under 60 seconds.

My first 103 practise crepes were homages to Hannibal. After that, things started to click.

You’ll be pleased to know that by midday of my first Saturday market, I was able to smile at the customers and exchange weak banter while preparing their treats. One small girl even said “PHWOOOAR! You must’ve been doing that for years!” in response to my wrist action. Thanks, my little cabbage. I haven’t.

A few good things came of my uncomfortable ascension to crepe-making mediocrity.

One, I ate a lot of free crepes. Ditto my dog. Ditto my man.

Two, I dropped a grenade in my comfort zone, experiencing a spectrum of humbling emotions from utter incompetence to frustration, appreciation for the skills of others, to finally, pride in my own perseverance.

Lastly, I was reminded of a valuable marketing lesson.

When you’ve been running a business for a while, it’s easy to take your product or service for granted. To be blinded by your own expertise, and stop thinking what you do is extraordinary.

As a result, many businesspeople hesitate to share their process, because to them it’s second nature. Old hat. Boring.

But you must - must! - make a fuss of what you do.

With fresh eyes (and flummoxed hands), I saw the magic in my friend’s deceptively simple service - and decided to share it.

I told every customer, “Mon Dieu! This is so much harder than it looks!”, describing how the batter is prepared according to French tradition, how my friend went to elite-level crepe college to hone her craft, and all the tiny, authentic touches that make these morsels a true Parisian treat.

The crepes were received and eaten with relish.

This ‘inside info’ about your product or service is what gets people excited.

These tidbits can be used to differentiate your business - online and in person.

These facts may feel mundane to you as practitioner, but to your customers, are nothing short of miraculous.

Perhaps you go to great lengths to source top quality ingredients; maybe you studied under a master practitioner with a crazy teaching method; it could be that you spend countless hours preparing for each client, personalising their treatment or session.

Share it.

Weave that delicious detail into your social media posts, use it as blog fodder, pitch it as a story to magazines and do interviews - sharing your process not with pomposity, but with true enthusiasm.

And soon, you’ll be all le rage.

How does a worm feel when it’s dredged from its damp, dark premises and into the sun?

Quite a few unfortunate invertebrates found out yesterday as I prepared a garden bed for my Ma, digging out the last of the spinach to make way for broad beans.

While I tugged at grass tufts and excavated dandelion, worm folk were hauled up on roots and clods of earth, experiencing sunshine (for the first time?) on their tender little torsos. Must have been a shock, poor buggers.

Their discomfort wasn’t for nought, as they inspired this post.

I wondered, who’d expect a blog about earthworms? No one. Yet, here you are reading, anthropomorphising, and holding out for a copywriting insight.

And the lesson? Be unexpected.

If everyone in your industry is writing the same old posts, in the same old tone, and the same old story, wriggle in the opposite direction.

Find a new angle. Tell an original tale. Start your post with a paragraph that’s so deliciously bizarre, curious eyeballs have no choice but to keep reading.

Whether it’s worms or something weird you saw in the crisper, weave the unexpected into your content and watch engagement soar.

Take it out. It’s shameless.

This was one of my oldest clients, suggesting I remove the cheesy call-to-action at the end of a recent article. And I couldn’t have been happier to oblige, since overt selling usually makes me squirm.

Usually. But for once I’d second guessed my disdain for telling readers what to do (‘book now!’, ‘don’t delay!’, ‘appointments limited!’) and thought maybe I should get with the times and wrap up the blog post with a pitch. Something that segued from the ideas presented in the post to the hard sell.

After all, aren’t marketers told to state the obvious? Aren’t we reminded to hit consumers over the head with their own shortcomings, then present the solution? Doesn’t every piece of content have to pull its own weight and sell?

I’ve always questioned this approach.

In an age of bullshit awareness, most people know when you’re trying to manipulate them. Or trying too hard at all. If you’ve ever seen someone get wasabi in their eye, you’ll know the kind of face readers pull when the article they were just reading suddenly turns into a self-promotion show.

In truth, if someone’s reading something they like, they’ll seek out who wrote it.

If someone vibes with a post on Facebook, they’ll stalk the shit out of that business.

If you’re an expert showing your expertise, in one way or another, enchanted readers/listeners/viewers will hunt you down. And they will book.

I momentarily misstepped in my ‘defy idiotic marketing’ march, but have my client - a practitioner of great integrity - to thank for nudging me back into line.

You’re welcome to join the parade.