As seen on TV, well-known pitchman Billy Mays, the “yell-and-sell OxiClean guy,” recently passed away. At this point, we’d already been mourning Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson, who had both passed away just two days before. Mays, like Jackson, was only fifty when he died—becoming the third celebrity to die within two days.

Many in my generation grew up loathing the Sunday morning infomercials that just stunk compared to Saturday’s glorious proliferation of cartoons. Whenever Billy Mays hogged the airwaves, we rolled our eyes (and covered our ears) at “Orange-Glo guy.” But hate him or love him, we all knew who he was. And he was always there year after year, still managing to stay in our TVs—because his infomercials worked. Mays knew about direct response marketing, and until only recently, I didn’t realize how brilliant he really was.

Billy Mays in a better light

My ad internship boss gave me the first eye-opener, mentioning in passing one day how much she loves Billy Mays.

“Really?” I’d said, floored by my bewilderment.

“Yeah! I love his show Pitchmen. Did you know these people actually study pitching as a career?” (I didn’t.)

“Being a pitchman is a difficult craft. People work hard finding out the best way to do it and crafting their style and personal brand.”

“Wow,” the brilliantly eloquent intern had replied.

How strange. The anti-entertainment guy was entertaining—and even admirable—to some people. All these years, I’d asked the TV in irritation: “does he really have to talk that way?” and it turns out that the answer is yes—a boisterously loud and Billy-Mays-style “yes!”

If you ever catch a glimpse of Mays’ show Pitchmen, you’ll find out that he actually isn’t always on loudspeaker-mode. Suddenly, you begin to see him as a businessman: impressively engrossed in his work, dedicated and decisive. And an expert at branding (yes, branding) and a pioneer in the realm of direct response marketing.

Why It All Worked

1. He developed and protected signature elements for a distinct identity. Mays never changed his look. People recognized his blue shirt, bearded smile, and double thumbs-up pose. He also had “that voice” that was always loud and at the same pitch, and it faithfully rang in every show with “Hi, Billy Mays here.”
2. He strictly focused his product profile. We all came to know Mays as the guy who always introduces us to “new household solutions that really work”—and that’s kind of a big deal; not all infomercials get to enjoy the same level of integrity. To be successful, Mays knew you couldn’t rely on chance; he had a formula to achieve his credibility. In addition to specializing in something he came to know a lot about, Mays only pitched the products that truly worked and from which the public could benefit.
3. He applied time-tested knowledge of transactional dynamics. Mays knew how to start and close the pitch in a single dialogue. He knew that thirty seconds was efficient for impulse purchases, while products of mid-range prices would best fit with a two-minute frame (the approximate duration of one commercial break). For more considered purchases, he allotted an entire half hour—plenty of deliberation time for the thoughtful consumer.

And ultimately, didn’t it all work? These fledgling products were able to enter a mature market (and countless household cabinets country-wide). Chances are, you or someone close to you has purchased one of those green-and-purple bottles of Kaboom, and it’s sitting under your very own kitchen sink right now.

You’d never compare Mays’ bearded smile to Fawcett’s pin-up poster smile, nor his shows to Jackson’s chart-topping music videos. But if Mays’ kind of kitchen-sink appeal doesn’t make an average guy like him just as much of an American icon, then I don’t know what does.