- Tension: Marketers quietly wrestle with balancing data precision and human empathy in legacy channels like catalog marketing.
- Noise: Oversimplified takes treat data acquisition as a numbers game, ignoring the evolving complexity of consumer identity and behavior.
- Direct Message: In an era of sophisticated targeting, real advantage comes from honoring the human context behind every data point—not just optimizing the file.
To learn more about our editorial approach, explore The Direct Message methodology.
This article was originally published in early 2001 and was last updated on June 12, 2025.
The quiet tension inside data-driven marketing
It’s easy to assume that catalog marketing is a relic—an analog holdover in a digital-first world. But if you’ve worked with audience data long enough, you know that lists like the One Hanes Place and Just My Size files still represent something quietly powerful: not just reach, but relevance. These aren’t anonymous impressions or cold leads. They’re verified buyers, with real purchase histories and rich segmentation options.
When the Millard Group recently took over as list manager for these catalog files, it signaled more than a tactical acquisition. It reminded us that even as marketing trends swing toward AI and real-time intent data, the deeper challenge remains the same: connecting with people in meaningful, measurable ways.
Yet beneath this moment is a hidden struggle—one I’ve seen repeatedly in my years working with data-centric marketing teams, especially in the tech space. The more precision we gain in targeting, the more we risk losing sight of the human reality behind each record. We optimize for segments and cohorts, but often forget the individual decisions and emotions those categories represent.
The acquisition of these catalog files is a chance to look closer—not just at what data can do, but what it can’t do on its own.
Why more data doesn’t always mean better understanding
Historically, list management was about volume, recency, and demographic match. The language hasn’t changed much. Selections like “age of children,” “size,” and “income” remain common filters. And sure, when Millard offers a master file merging One Hanes Place and Just My Size—representing over 2 million buyers—it seems like a targeting jackpot.
But here’s where the narrative often oversimplifies. We treat these lists like precision machines, assuming they’ll yield efficient results just because they’re sliced thinly and updated regularly.
In reality, human behavior resists neat segmentation.
Take Just My Size. On paper, it serves a distinct demographic: women aged 30–55 with an average annual income of $45,000. But within that label lives a mosaic of lived experiences—body image journeys, comfort preferences, loyalty behaviors, and cultural expectations. None of that shows up in a CSV file.
What I’ve found analyzing consumer behavior data—particularly across retail and ecommerce—is that response rates don’t simply hinge on product fit or pricing. They’re shaped by timing, tone, cultural resonance, and emotional alignment. In other words, it’s not just who you’re targeting, but how you speak to them—and why they’d care.
The Millard Group’s experience in the catalog space offers an edge not just because of their market coverage, but because they understand this nuance. Still, the broader industry conversation tends to flatten these files into a math problem: plug in the right list, optimize the creative, maximize conversion.
That’s not a strategy. That’s a script.
What actually moves people to respond
Data can tell you where someone lives and what they bought—but only strategy rooted in empathy and psychology reveals why they’ll buy again.
Lessons from catalog history—and what they still teach us
To understand what makes list marketing work in 2025, we have to look back.
Catalogs in the 1980s and ’90s weren’t just mailers—they were immersive brand experiences. Think of Lands’ End, J.Crew, or L.L. Bean. These brands didn’t just sell clothing—they sold a lifestyle. The photography, copy, even paper quality created emotional context. The lists weren’t just databases—they were loyalty engines.
What’s changed since then isn’t just format—it’s velocity. Now, we move at the speed of pixels. And yet, the enduring success of catalog files like One Hanes Place proves something important: physical lists still work when treated as part of a thoughtful, omni-channel ecosystem.
That’s where Millard’s acquisition becomes more than transactional. Their role now isn’t simply to manage a file—it’s to unlock its resonance. That means:
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Reframing buyer personas through behavioral psychology
The same woman who buys casualwear from a catalog might shop sustainably online or follow size-inclusive influencers on social. Her identity spans more than one data profile—and tapping into that means adapting tone, not just segmenting tightly. -
Reconnecting segmentation to strategy
Selections like “dollar amount” or “recency” are useful—but they’re blunt tools without layered messaging strategies. During my time in growth strategy roles, the best-performing campaigns combined old-school list segmentation with behavioral cues: life events, context, and content response. -
Reactivating legacy channels with new creative muscles
Just because a file is 1.8 million strong doesn’t mean you hit send and wait. Today’s high-performing campaigns often layer direct mail with digital follow-ups, personalized landing pages, or timed mobile nudges. The catalog might start the journey, but it rarely ends there.
Creating value beyond the file
Marketers who win in this next phase won’t be the ones with the biggest lists. They’ll be the ones who turn those lists into living ecosystems of insight, engagement, and trust.
That takes more than data. It takes perspective.
Ask not just “How do I target this list?” but:
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What’s the emotional context of this customer’s world right now?
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How does our messaging reduce friction or add clarity?
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Where are we showing up—and are we aligned across those touchpoints?
The hidden struggle with lists isn’t about acquisition. It’s about activation.
And the quiet power of legacy files like One Hanes Place and Just My Size? They remind us that relevance has never been a trend—it’s a discipline. One rooted in context, care, and a bit of strategic patience.
That’s not old-fashioned. That’s enduring.
