Have you ever been standing at a bus stop or walking down the street and seen the sad sight of promotional umbrellas sticking out of a bin? At Brollies and Parasols, we are on a mission to stop this happening. Too many times we get calls from companies saying that “We ordered printed umbrellas last year and they fell to bits in the slightest breeze!”.
Here at Brollies & Parasols our promotional umbrellas ranges have been specially picked to ensure quality and durability. If your brand is on a product you want that product to reflect you and your company’s ethos. Our promotional umbrellas have high technology led materials and our Uber Brolly range come with performance guarantees to ensure that your printed umbrellas have the strength to last – and not end up in a bin.
It’s not only Promotional umbrellas
Below is an article from the Daily Mail by Gyles Brandreth, which highlights our point exactly.
Forget the nursery rhyme. It’s raining, it’s pouring, but this old man isn’t snoring. He’s wide-awake and hopping mad. And he’s soaking wet, too. I don’t think I’ve been wetter or angrier. Ever.
It’s partly my own fault, of course. I listen to the weather forecast, but I never seem to take it in. And when I do, I don’t believe what they tell me anyway.
The point is: I left home without an umbrella. And, an hour later, as the dark clouds above London opened, I was walking down Oxford Street, hatless, coatless, and got caught in the rain.
Being in Europe’s busiest shopping street, I nipped in to the first department store I came to and bought myself a brolly. It was pocket-sized, collapsible, bright red. It looked rather jolly. Appearances can be deceptive. It was attractively priced, too, at just £10. But at one-tenth the price it would not have been worth it. This umbrella was not fit for purpose.
Outside the rain was coming down steadily as, manfully, I attempted to open my new umbrella. It seemed reluctant to cooperate.
As I extended its spindly aluminium handle, first it pinched my fingers, and then it jammed. Infuriated, I forced it. And that’s when two of the spokes snapped.
Eventually I managed to get the little Red Menace unfurled and opened. I stood beneath it. It covered my head and part of my shoulders — just. Of course, where the spokes had broken, the flimsy plastic canopy drooped a bit so that a steady stream of rainwater drip-drip-dripped straight down my neck.
Damp, distressed, with blood blisters on three fingers, I clutched my new brolly and turned the corner to Regent Street.
That’s when a gust of wind, in one fell swoop, blew my umbrella inside out. With the rain pouring and the wind whistling, and shoppers and tourists crowding past, I attempted to push and pull the wretched thing back into shape.
Mr Bean struggling to erect a deckchair in a sandstorm — or a Conservative MP adjusting his Paisley pyjamas — could not have made a more laughable or pathetic sight.
Stop and Think Promotional umbrellas are for Life
Less than ten minutes after buying it, I dumped my brand-new umbrella in a bin and took refuge in the Underground.
Unfortunately, while I had ditched my wet brolly, my fellow Tube travellers had not abandoned theirs. In inclement weather, the London Underground is Umbrella Hell.
Life on public transport can be challenging at the best of times. A lot of people now seem to be built more like Gerard Depardieu than George Clooney, and on their broad shoulders appear to be carrying all their worldly goods in unwieldy back-packs designed to inflict maximum damage at every turn.