Timex and conscientious capitalism

I was recently part of a new biz presentation at Timex, which in itself may not be remarkable, but it took place as I’ve been wrestling with this question: Is it possible for the profit imperative at work in our society to coexist with a sense of corporate ethics and a code of conduct that embraces values beyond the dollar?

[Milton Friedman has been dead since 2006, so I assume it’s cool to ask these questions now.]

Back to Timex. The corporate HQ is in scenic Middlebury, CT. The building is like a spaceship – circular and glassed in all around, so daylight is used to defray electricity usage and power productivity. Rainwater drains downward on a series of steps, creating a cool visual effect.

The parking lot is nearly a quarter-mile from the building, because Timex wants people to walk and be active.

There’s fitness equipment and locker rooms at the ground level, so people can work out, shower, change, and so forth, with ease.

In the cafeteria, Timex has expressed its orientation toward health financially. Sure, you can get food loaded with sugar, but it costs more than options that are healthy.

The past idea of “corporate citizenship” answered only part of this question – the part that had to do with external appearances and community participation in the form of environmental practices, supporting Little League teams, etc. Timex has made their HQ facilities –their internal presence - an expression of what they stand for.

You don’t have to like it. And if you don’t, you don’t have to work for Timex. But the whole time I was there, it felt like there was a conscientiousness to the place; a collective sense of belonging to something. This seems like an approach to prosperity that clients should look into.

Bye bye, platinum.

When I opened my mail yesterday, I discovered that Chase Platinum will now go under the name Slate. A Chase rep assured me that the name is the only difference. But doesn't a name say so much? Seems to me that I've been downgraded from a precious metal to a paving stone. Goodbye, sparkly silver card. Hello, boring blue.

Way to make your customers feel special, Chase.

The Bose Lesson

Back in 2001 when I was taking a Continuing Ed ad class at The School of Visual Arts, my instructor handed out copies of a then-current Bose ad and gave us our assignment: “Make this a good ad.” (Apparently a coworker of mine got the same assignment at Adhouse 2 years ago.)

There were many things wrong with the ad. Here was this well-known, upscale electronics product being described with a tome of copy, including 3 testimonials from news columnists. The fonts and design looked like it came from the early 90’s – maybe even late 80’s. The photography was mediocre at best. And the headline pretty much sucked.

8 years later I discovered what looked like almost the exact same ad in a luxury travel magazine. This time, they were selling their Noise Cancelling Headphones, but everything else was the same. Testimonials. 90’s design. And over 500 words of copy ragged around the primary photo – the headphones themselves. Which filled me with the urge to (drum roll, please) flip the page.

Now to be fair, a quick Google search produces some very nice Bose image ads. But if you’re going to spend the money to have brand awareness ads that feel like they belong in this decade, your direct response ads should follow suit.

A Bose exec might make the following arguments as to why they should keep their DR ads as is:

1. The research shows our audience is looking for more information.


2. Testimonials work. I learned that in Business School.


3. We’ve had such a great success rate with these ads.

To which I would answer:

1. A wall of copy is intimidating to anyone who is quickly flipping through a magazine. The information in your ad could easily be pared down to a paragraph or two without sacrificing any important points.


2. Yes, testimonials work. When you need them. Bose is a well-established brand. Testimonials – especially those from columnists – are absolutely unnecessary.
3. If you don’t take risks and try something different, how will you ever know how much you can improve upon even your highest success rates?

A direct response ad doesn’t have to be boring or poorly designed. It can be fresh and original and relevant. A luxury brand should always be sold as such, no matter what vehicle carries it.

The sticky, sticky fingers of the rich.

Sure, we’ve all taken our share of those little soaps, lotions, and bottles of shampoo they keep stocked at all hotels. But at luxury hotels the stakes are a little bit higher, unless they want to start nailing down things like silver tea strainers, Christian Fischbacher satin sheets, and iPod docks. Because according to a recent Travel & Leisure article, these are the exact things the wealthy have been swiping from hotels for years.

So what’s a hotel to do? Well, they can either charge you (these days, they usually have your credit card number on file from check-in) or they can just let it lie. And a lot of hoteliers actually encourage the latter. At least when it comes to branded items.

The idea is that a branded item – be it umbrella, beach hat, slippers or shampoo – will remind the thief of their positive experience at the hotel and they’ll book another stay there in the future.

More than that, it can be an interesting conversation piece when said thief invites guests to their home – another way to generate future stays.

When my husband and I house-sat for my sister-in-law back in 2002, she had stocked the guest room with soap, shampoo and lotion from the Hotel del Coronado in Coronado, CA. I loved the scent of their signature body lotion so much that I started ordering it online and have done so ever since. Even though I haven’t stayed there as a guest, I’ve forked over close to $900 (the equivalent of a 3-night stay) to the hotel shop. All from a small, branded bottle of lotion that I found in a guest room.

Of course, guests steal a lot more than just branded items – like a $300,000 Andy Warhol piece that was on exhibit at the W Hotel Hong Kong and an entire marble fireplace from the Four Seasons Beverly Wilshire.

It seems kleptomania doesn’t discriminate based on net worth or good breeding. It’s up to hotel owners to figure out exactly how to use that to their advantage.

Waaaa waaaa – the plight of the wealthy.

For its May 11th cover story, Forbes introduced “The Survivor’s Guide for the Affluent.”

Feeding into the affluent crowd’s fear of Obama and strapped-for-cash state leaders taking away all of their money and public calls for ultra-rich heads on platters, the article is chock full of advice for protecting assets, sidestepping taxes (within legal means, of course), and how to hold onto your toys.

A few key recommendations Forbes has for the rich:

• Establish trusts for your kids or invest in charitable remainder trusts.
• Spend the majority of your days (literally; it has to be at least 183) at your house in Florida, Alaska, Washington, South Dakota, Nevada, Wyoming or Texas – where there is no state income tax.
• Make purchases anonymously online (everyone’s been doing that since September anyway).
• Buy a small plane or boat (i.e. less than 100 feet) now, while the price is right.

But here’s the thing. While the wealthy may be experiencing significant losses and will likely pay more taxes in the coming months and years, the price of nearly everything – homes, yachts, fashion, travel – is down too. And, incidentally, every other wealthy person has experienced a nearly 30% loss.

So, relatively speaking, is it really necessary to feed into their fears? While financial advisors may find it lucrative to do so, I’m not so sure marketers will.

The best advice for marketing to the affluent, even if they are starting to freak out, is to keep your head above water. As I’ve said in past blogs, even if you do cut your prices, don’t go past the point of no return. Tell your customers about sales or discounts in a tasteful way. Don’t bombard them with promo emails. Respect their wishes to shop discreetly. And above all, don’t betray your brand.

The affluent are going to survive the recession, and smart brands will too.

DON'T YOU LOVE IT WHEN I SCREAM AT YOU?!!

No? Didn’t think so.

Well guess what? Consumers – least of all affluent consumers – aren’t too keen on being screamed at either.

Which is why the brands that target them should never use exclamation points. Ever. Even if your brand is selling something really exciting – like a new car or a vacation.

It’s not like your audience is winning a Brand New Car(!) on The Price is Right. They are purchasing it from you. So you’re going to have to work harder, by being calm and conversational.

It doesn’t matter that you’re freaking out about the economy and want to scream your message from the rooftops. Just because you show customers you want them more than ever, doesn’t mean they’re going to want you more than ever.

And if you’ve been talking to them the right way all these years, this is not the time to change the tone of the conversation by raising your voice.

Here are a few other punctuation rules you can follow when talking to affluent audiences:

1. Embrace the semi-colon. The affluent, for the most part, are educated people. They understand how to use and read the colon, the semi-colon, and the m dash. Go ahead and use them.
2. Don’t quote me. Quotation marks belong in one place – around a quotation. They are not used for emphasis or for words that have multiple meanings like “green.” People will know what you mean based on the context of the sentence.
3. Ellipses are lame. The direct mail piece with a cover line that ends in an ellipsis, then continues with one on the inside, sucks. Simple as that.

These rules apply for advertising, PR, Web, wherever you decide to spread your message. So be strong, keep your punctuation standards high, and enforce them throughout the ranks of your company whenever you have the chance.

Before long, everyone who works with you will get the point.

Why we love – and love to hate – the rich.

Hating the rich is a pretty popular pastime right now. With the economy in the toilet, and calls for the heads of anyone making a hefty bonus, some bank execs are likening the country’s current mood to that of the villagers in Frankenstein or Madame DeFarge in A Tale of Two Cities.

But while the masses may be running to grab their pitchforks and knitting needles, they apparently have time to stop and watch the wealthy and their silly antics on Bravo. A Variety article, which I take issue with simply because of a disturbing grammatical gaffe in the subhead, discusses the network’s recent uptick in viewers of shows like “Real Housewives of Orange County,” “Top Chef,” and “Millionaire Matchmaker.”

Of course, most of the fascination has to do with the earlier mentioned silly antics on these shows. In reality, they aren’t representative of the typically discreet millionaires and billionaires that try to keep their identities, behaviors and love lives relatively private.

And yet, the nagging question still remains.

Even if the antics are so interesting, why is our culture obsessed with rich people? Why do we love the rich?

Two reasons – we envy them. And we need them (registration required to read this article).

If the average American didn’t want to be rich, today’s mortgage and credit crises would have never arisen in the first place. Sure, there were predatory brokers, lenders and underwriters – but you have to really, really want an $800,000 house to “overlook” the fact that you can’t make the monthly payments on it. Envy, a sin that quickly leads to its ever-more-popular cousin, Greed, is the culprit.

And while many would like to reach for their pitchforks whenever the words “Wall Street” fall upon their ears, what some of us are slowly realizing is that the wealthy are the ones whose taxable incomes fund our kids’ public education, our parents’ senior benefits and our states’ ability to keep our communities safe.

So whether you love the rich, despise them, or a little bit of both, there is one thing that is certain: our culture can’t survive without them.