Dreams for Sale

While Grace Kelly fretted over the shortage of space for guests at her April wedding in Monaco, London's brash Daily Express (circ. 4,075,889) issued an invitation--"for you and a friend"--on its front page. The bait in this Fleet Street circulation-building gimmick was more than just two seats in the cathedral (capacity: 400); it was also transportation to Monaco, "in your own private yacht chartered for a week," plus all expenses and -L-1,000 ($2,800) for pocket money. To qualify, readers had to pay a contest entry fee of two pence and list pictures of twelve wedding dresses (run by the Express) in order of their "appeal." Last week a deluge of reader response forced the Express to postpone picking its winner until it could sort out some 150,000 entries.

The Express had yet to figure out a way to get the lucky winner into the wedding ceremony. But it could take credit for being gaudily abreast of the news in the contest craze that is sweeping British papers.

A Bag of Gold. It was Lord Northcliffe, grandfather of Britain's popular press, who first showed how the giveaway could be used to build a newspaper empire. The first (1889) Northcliffe prize was the handsome pre-inflation stipend of -L-1 a week for life. In those primitive days the lure was sometimes as simple as gold itself: a bag of sovereigns buried in a cache to which published clues pointed the way. Through the years the prizes grew more sophisticated and attuned to the public whim. With insurance in vogue, the papers gave away policies of all kinds. When self-improvement became a rage, they offered sets of classics in fancy bindings. During the Depression the prizes took more practical shape: shoes, overcoats and pants.

The current accent in Britain is on making dreams come true. Against the Express' bubbly vision of yachts and high society, the rival News Chronicle (circ. 1,272,800) offered a dream of independence: -L-3,500 ($9,800) "to help you be your own boss." The Daily Mail (circ. 2,073,766), disdaining the usual contest bait of ordinary family cars, offered "The Car Everyone Dreams About," a $13,800 Bentley (plus -L-1,000 to live it up). The Daily Sketch (circ. 1,047,090) announced: "You can own the Derby winner! . . . The Daily Sketch has paid more than -L-5,500 [$15,400] for a horse which is entered . . . If it wins the Derby, the reader who owns it will also win nearly -L-17,000 [$47,600] in prize money."

Nuisance. Like the job of selecting wedding gowns from the Express' dozen, most British contests are so simple that picking winners is almost an arbitrary matter for judges. Unlike U.S. papers, the British usually charge a small fee (two to six pence) for each entry. On some popular contests this enables the papers to break even--and sometimes even to show a slight profit.

But though the contests seem to keep readers happy, the papers themselves are unwilling captives of the craze. "We're not in the lottery business," complained one circulation manager. "Contests are a nuisance, and if our competitors would stop them, so would we." Said a promotion manager: "I doubt if we've ever gained any permanent circulation because of a contest. But as long as other papers run them we have to go them one better to hold on to the circulation we have."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.