🚨Fake Holiday Alert: The Next Million Dollar Idea

Hey friend,

I've uncovered a wild conspiracy where corporations and the CIA manufacture fake holidays to raid our wallets—but today I'll show you how to hijack their playbook and profit instead.

Hey – real quick: I'm doing something dumb. I've unlocked FREE behind-the-scenes access to my newsletter vault. No catch, just our business blueprint, tips and tricks and info too good to be kept gated (at least for now!) (Click for backstage access).

The Story

When I first got a push notification wishing me ‘’Happy National Pecan Pie Day’’ from DoorDash I was like whatever…but then I started getting alerts for National Hydration Day (sponsored by Evian), National Dog Photography Day (Petco), and National CBD Day (a dispensary in Florida🤷‍♂️). 

So I went down an email rabbit hole and counted 17 holidays, all invented in the last decade and designed to make me spend money.

This is the GREAT HOLIDAY HEIST - a silent takeover of our calendars by brands, lobbyists, and algorithms. 

Did you know that National Talk Like a Pirate Day has bigger brand partnerships than International Women’s Day? 

No joke - Krispy Kreme gives away free donuts to anyone who says ‘’ahoy’’ on September 19th while Long John Silver’s hands out tens of thousands worth of free fish to people in pirate costumes. 

Or take Singles' Day in China – November 11th (11/11, all ones, get it?). Started in 1993 by college students as an anti-Valentine's celebration, Alibaba hijacked it in 2009 and transformed it into the world's largest shopping day. Last year, it made $84 billion - that’s like Hungary’s entire economy, vaporized in a day.

Last one for my conspiracy friends - before the 1950s, Halloween was more like The Purge, way less “candy corn” and more “burning couches in the town square.”

Teens rioted annually until – legend has it – the CIA and Big Candy rebranded chaos as “trick-or-treating.” A $10B sugar bailout disguised as tradition.

The pattern is clear: retailers use "occasion-based marketing" to fill sales dead zones. Find a slow period, invent a celebration that creates urgency, then convince people it's tradition.

But why let corporations monopolize this goldmine? Let's flip the script.

How To Profit

• The Micro-Holiday Blueprint

Instead of competing in overcrowded major holidays, create a micro-holiday for a niche you understand deeply.

The formula is simple:

Identify a passionate community with disposable income (pet owners, craft beer enthusiasts, home bakers).

Find their calendar dead zone (when enthusiasm naturally dips)

Create a celebration with a compelling origin story (bonus points if true).

Example: "National Sourdough Day" for home bakers. Schedule it for late February when baking enthusiasm wanes post-holidays. Create starter kits, special bannetons, and "heirloom" recipe collections.

The key to monetization is creating an ecosystem, not just a date. 

Pro tip: There’s a website called the National Day Calendar that’s basically a holiday factory. For $4,000, they’ll “certify” your made-up day and blast it to their 500,000 newsletter subscribers. 

Want “National Pet Rock Appreciation Day”? Done. “International Left-Handed Coffee Drinking Day”? Approved.

Today, the barrier to entry isn't creativity – it's just being first.

• Holiday Importation Service

Every culture has amazing celebrations unknown to others. Your opportunity? Become a cultural arbitrageur.

Research holidays from other countries with:

• Visual appeal (Instagram-worthy)

• Accessible concepts (easy to explain)

• Product potential (requires specific items)

Then "import" them through a subscription box or e-commerce store offering everything needed to celebrate.

For instance, Sweden's Midsommar (June Flower Festival) or Thailand's Yi Peng (Lantern Festival) have massive untapped potential in Western markets.

Partner with cultural experts to create authentic celebration kits and digital guides explaining traditions. Build a community around these shared experiences while positioning yourself as the essential provider of everything needed to celebrate properly.

The beauty is that you're not creating demand – rather, channelling existing holiday enthusiasm toward new celebrations that require specific products only you provide.

• The Calendar Conspiracy

Your business should be handing out free calendars. I don’t mean the generic kind with kittens in sweaters, but your calendar, a Trojan horse packed with dates that turn casual buyers into cult followers.

Mark every product launch anniversary, service upgrade, and community event like it’s a federal holiday. December 12th isn’t just “12/12” – it’s “National [Your Brand] Thermal Mug Day” (complete with Buy One, Get One deals). 

Slip actual invites into the calendar. Hide a golden ticket for a secret “Midnight Launch Party” in October. Bury a coupon for November’s “Vault Sale” (items you discontinued three years ago, now “back by demand”).

Some simple reasons why this idea works:

Calendars are the last analog addiction in a digital world – 72% of millennials still hang them.

You control the rhythm of customer engagement (no begging for attention on Amazon Prime Day).

Turns loyalty into a game (“Oooh, July 19th is ‘Free Upgrades for Early Adopters Day’…”)

The Ace Segment

A century before Goop’s $66 ‘’vaginal wellness’’ candles and “self-care” became a $450-billion industry, our man Ace Victoria sold rich men permission to do nothing.

In 1897, his Wall Street friends were dropping dead at their desks from “neurasthenia” (a fancy term for burnout). So Ace came up with Contemplation Day – inspired by sabbath traditions he observed among Hasidic diamond merchants who set aside time for reflection despite their demanding trade.

He adapted this practice for Wall Street, complete with specially designed leather journals for structured reflection.

He sold only 30 journals annually at $500 each (today’s price), exclusively through a backroom dealer at the Yale Club. And then hired actors to gossip about Vanderbilt’s “secret contemplation sessions,” igniting FOMO among rivals.

By 1901, Ace had a waiting list of 300 bankers – not because they wanted to reflect, but because the journal’s owl-shaped lapel pin became a status symbol. Wearing it whispered, “I’m wealthy enough to afford stillness.”

As Ace scrawled in his ledger:

“I didn't invent the medicine, I merely created packaging that ensures the patient actually takes it”

Until next time,

Alex

Founder //LZY MNY CLB