I confess, I love Brand. I really do.
Blasphemy, you say, coming from a Direct Marketer? Not at all! Let me tell you why.
First I should clarify: When I say “I love Brand” I don’t have a collection of shot glasses I won on eBay with my favorite teams’ logos on them; I don’t secretly flip through InStyle to see what J-Lo or Justin or Gwen is wearing today; if I had cattle I would not mark them with red-hot wrought-iron pokers; and I do not have a secret crush on British comedian/actor Russell (though I do like him a lot).
I love the hallowed Brand that marketers refer to in hushed tones while they “leverage” it for all it’s worth (yes, in Brandspeak, leverage is a verb); the intangible asset that must be tangible-ized, quantified and infused with “equity” as if it’s flavored club soda; the same one whose sacrosanct guidelines are enforced, rightly or wrongly, by legions of iron fisted experts. I should know—I was one of them. In truth, Brand is the unique essence of being in business; Brand is the link of loyalty from product to consumer. Brand is the marketing discipline’s Holy Grail.
Sweet Lady Brand, she fed me for twenty years, and now it’s time for me to give her some props.
Ask a roomful of marketers to define Brand and you’ll get a roomful of answers, complete with 3-D perceptual maps, Venn diagrams and sometimes barely intelligible gobbledygook. But one thing we can agree on is that if you’re trying to sell something, awareness—which is rightfully and inextricably linked to brand—is a great thing to have. Why? Because awareness leads to consideration, and consideration leads to trial. So what’s so great about that? Everything. Especially to a Direct Marketer like me.
You don’t have to buy a particular brand to appreciate it. I don’t shop at Tiffany very often, but I love their little blue box and the romantic, emotional power it wields the instant I think about it. I no longer wear a suit and tie to work every day but I’ll always associate Brooks Brothers with my father and grandfather, and sometimes I’ll pop into a store just to feel a little wistful, whether I need a new club tie or not. And ironically, although I have a tough time discerning between the Fairmont and the Four Seasons (especially if I’m somewhere warm and sunny with a fruity drink in my hand), I know that for comfort and quality I can always turn to either one.
The key point here is that whenever I receive communication from Tiffany or Brooks Brothers, the Fairmont or the Four Seasons, Apple or Nike, or any other brand that I like, the chances of my paying attention to it increase by multiples. I’m more likely to look at what’s new, see what they’re offering online, and even pop into one of their stores just to immerse myself in the stuff of their Brand experience. In other words, since I already know who they are, my proverbial door to buying something has already swung wide open.
Brand has done its work by paving an express lane through the tangle of synapses in my brain that usually put a choke-hold on my decision-making. Hence, their communication, no matter the medium, doesn’t always wind up in my trashcan. I’ll actually stop for a second, pause the DVR, and think about what they have to offer me this time—a victory for any marketer.
Whether they’re mainstream favorites of mine like Chipotle or Patagonia, or more obscure ones like Colnago or Panerai, Brand hustles me along, a good two thirds of the way to my decision, and onward toward my trial. (I mean, thank goodness I like diet Coke and Gatorade. Otherwise, how could I possibly decide what to drink when I’m standing in front of the cooler at the 7-11? There’s stuff in there that I don’t know whether to drink or use to take the bug splatter off my windshield. Why on earth would I buy it if I don’t even know what the hell it’s for?)
But back to my point. Awareness-to-Consideration-to-Trial is no great mystery—you know about something, you think about it, you try it. But it’s only part of the equation. Brand can set you up, but it’s my job to bring you home. And if I set the whole thing up correctly in the first place, I can capture what you did—your behavior—I can measure it, tweak one thing or another, and try it again. And at the end I have something I can sink my teeth into called predictive results. Arm me with that data and I can toodle off to build a new pro forma, call someone important and have a conversation about strategy and quantifiable, measureable performance.
As a Direct Marketer, that’s my holy grail, and the fine folks in Brand just led me right to it.
If you’re anywhere near the discipline of Direct Marketing, and you don’t appreciate what Brand does for you, you’re missing a good two-thirds of the big picture. Call me lazy, but I’d hate to spend my days trying to sell something about which there is no awareness. Some marketers quite literally live for that challenge, but I sure don’t. Fighting the awareness battle in this day and age, unless you have gazillions to spend (and/or really want to project your logo on the surface of the moon), is a rocky and treacherous climb, straight uphill. And I don’t have enough Starbucks in me, or the right pair of Nikes on me, to even attempt it.
My true confession is that I am grateful. I love Brand because it does a good chunk of my work for me.
Which, of course, gives me more time to bid on that Toledo Mud Hens shot glass.