
Written on February 14th, 2011 | Short URL: http://abcjr.me/4b

Red Octogon: Optional. Red Heart: Not Optional
It’s Valentine’s Day, a special occasion deemed both by my father and a local arts and entertainment weekly to be a “made-up holiday” (that nearly any holiday can be accused of being “made up” is another argument entirely). Regardless of how fictional the premise (the Catholic Church nixed Saint Valentine from it’s calendar of celebration in 1969 since there is no historical connection to any of the saints named Valentine), King Henry VIII declared the day a holiday in 1537 (yes, THAT King Henry VIII).
Valentine’s Day is a big deal: 190 million cards (1,330 different designs by Hallmark alone!) and 36 million heart-shaped boxes of chocolate will be exchanged. Not surprisingly, the data skews female — most cards will be given to teachers (a majority of whom are female, especially in the lower grades, where a majority of the exchanging takes place), mothers and female significant others.
Interestingly, the commercialism of Valentine’s Day is at the foundation of its modern celebration. By the mid 19th century, printed valentines, with lace and bows, were widely available for purchase and mailing. Usually, it was the man who bought valentines for a woman who had caught his eye. In other words — very similar to what happens in 2011.
One of the more recent conversations about marketing and consumer insight centers around the idea that the purchaser is not the end user. In nearly anything written on the subject, the story is told of women who know the needs of another person (child, spouse, friend, etc.) and purchase a product for that person to use. On Valentine’s Day, not only are men the ones leading the purchasing, but men are also uncomfortable with that role (not a shock since a majority of women would break up with her boyfriend if he did nothing to acknowledge the day). Men on average will spend $130 on chocolate, flowers, jewelry and dates, which is roughly double what women expect to spend. That’s a lot of money up for grabs, and since Valentine’s Day is a test of the relationship, it’s a highly-profitable opportunity to help a guy avoid a social faux pas.
I challenge marketers to come up with a better way to help men through this minefield. Men are dying for some assistance — finding the right card, the right box of chocolate, the right restaurant — and there is precious little out there by way of help. Sure, you can order flowers online or swing by Kay’s Jewelers (Every Kiss Begins With Kay!), but their self-interest is untrustworthy. All men want is to not screw up … why isn’t there anyone to help?
This might be worth exploring further. Until then, I must run — like millions of other men around the world, I need to pick my girlfriend up for a nice dinner. Even marketers can be sold.
Written on February 7th, 2011 | Short URL: http://abcjr.me/49

My future Prince and Princess of Potential Profit?
Sometimes, in those random and unintentional moments of daydream, I think about what it will be like to have my first child (no, Mum, this is not my way of telling you that I’m soon to be a father). I think about the excitement, fear, concern, support, love, tension, frustration and holy-crap-I’m-now-legally-responsible-for-the-survival-of-another-human-being that my friends and family members have told me about when recounting their own experiences. It’s usually a positive momentary thought until I’m distracted by more important things, like remembering the time of the next Penguins game.
My daydream took a tumble today after reading an article in the New York Times titled Disney Looking Into Cradle for Customers. It explains that Disney is pushing its newest product priority, Disney Baby, in 580 maternity hospitals in the United States. According to the article, “A representative visits a new mother and offers a free Disney Cuddly Bodysuit, a variation of the classic Onesie.” The catch? The representative asks for the mother’s email address so that DisneyBaby.com can send her targeted marketing messages. The purpose of this campaign, as outlined in the article, is to build brand awareness and loyalty, and to get the mother (what, no daydreaming fathers in the mix?) to think about her first Disney park experience with her children at the earliest point possible. You ask yourself, “How do they get access to the mothers?” A consulting firm paid by Disney pays the hospitals for access.
Let me be clear: I think that it is the height of callousness that a sales representative from a corporation, no matter how family-friendly, attempts to collect marketing information from a woman who has just given birth. As someone who has recently experienced a moment of emotional vulnerability that could have been exploited for financial gain (my father passed away a month ago and I had to work closely with the funeral home to make arrangements), I realized just how refreshing it is to not have someone else’s profit motive take priority over my own emotional state. Does Disney really believe that a full-court press by a bilingual salesperson in a maternity ward is the best way to get a new mother to emotionally connect to their brand?
I fundamentally believe in the positive power of marketing. At its best, marketers find people who can use a product or service that will make that customer’s life easier/better/more fun and give that person a compelling reason to buy. However, I also believe that customers should be treated with dignity and respect. I believe Disney is failing that test.
Along the marketing-to-women conversation, I can’t help but notice that the quotes from company representatives were made by two men. I’d love to know — were women consulted on this strategy? Yes, an OB-GYN and a mother were quoted in the article in support of Disney’s strategy, but would most women follow? Do women feel comfortable being exploited like this, not only by a company but also the hospital in which they’re giving birth?
Note: My name is terribly difficult and, beyond the novelty of having ABC as initials, there is no reason for me to pass this name on to a future generation. For $2,500, I’ll gladly sell first naming rights to my child and $1,000 for middle naming rights. I can’t wait to daydream about the future Mickey McDonalds Ciuksza being born.
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