thestudiosource.com » Creative branding

How to turn a free meal into an extraordinary brand

Stacey Cornelius — Tue, 04 May 2010 11:55:19 +0000

Let’s go to dinner. My treat. You’ll love the restaurant and get something unexpected to take home with you.

Our maître ‘d is gracious and welcoming. We immediately feel like honoured guests as he seats us at a softly lit table with a pristine white tablecloth and sparkling silverware.

The room is filled with quiet conversation and easy laughter that weaves its way through the mellow sound of the gleaming baby grand piano in the corner. We settle in and ready ourselves for what’s to come.

The chef has prepared our menu.

Salad
The meal begins with pear and walnut salad, chilled to perfection. Artisan-made dishes complement the salad perfectly, and the server delivers it with such subtlety it seems as if the food has materialized out of thin air. We’re hungry, but eat slowly, savouring each bite and soaking in the delicious atmosphere of the place.

There’s just enough of a pause between courses.

Soup
Next is roasted red pepper soup garnished with fresh oregano and parsley. The aroma and texture are heavenly. The soup is accompanied by a small platter with fresh rosemary bread, roasted garlic, and olive oil lightly flavoured with basil pesto for dipping. We’re each presented with side plates and small, beautifully crafted knives to spread the garlic.

Once we’ve caused the soup and contents of platter to disappear, we wait for the next course, contemplating our Sauvignon Blanc as it catches the light through hand blown glasses. The server hasn’t changed the wine, so we anticipate something fresh and flavourful.

We are not disappointed.

Main course
Our now-beloved server delivers unto us lemon risotto with fiddleheads and asparagus, and grilled halibut garnished with lemon and a spring of rosemary. The vegetables taste fresh-picked, and the fish likely came from the wharf just a few hours ago. We’re rendered nearly speechless, except to ruminate on the nature of Nirvana and how sad it is the food probably isn’t as good as it is here.

We take a break before moving on to dessert, enjoying each other’s company and the sense of ease the proprietors have created for their guests. There’s original art on the walls, the lighting is modern but subtle, the chairs are comfortable, and the round table is the perfect size for intimate conversation as well as leisurely dining.

And dessert
We decline ice wine in favour of black tea. Almond cake, topped with delicate slivers of dark chocolate, arrives soon after. We stretch out the final course as long as we can, delaying the inevitable end of our evening.

* * *

Still with me? Give your head a shake—we’re about to make a small change to our feast.

Let’s serve our magnificent meal in a cafeteria.

Change the context, change the story
We’re greeted by the harsh blue zombie-like tinge and incessant hum of fluorescent tube lighting. That sound is mercifully dampened by the dull roar of the ventilation system. The walls are concrete, painted some headache-inducing combination of beige and faded red. There’s canned music piped in from the ceiling—tinny instrumental covers of hits from the 1980′s and ’90′s.

We pick up our food from a serving line. No courses—get it all at once or get lost. The dishes, cutlery and soup bowls are plastic, and the wine comes in a styrofoam cup.

The ambience doesn’t exactly jive with the food, does it.

Let’s try another variation: a Country & Western bar, complete with live band.

It’s the same meal. Does it still feel like lovingly prepared gourmet fare? You might decide it’s exactly the same and try to argue the setting doesn’t matter. But how does it feel? And what kind of price tag would you assign to each experience?

Granted, the above shift is a pretty extreme, but you get the point. And it leads to an important question: what “story” do you tell when you show your work to the world?

Context tells your story
Putting your work in the right context has a powerful impact on the way your audience perceives it. Your story is crafted from more than just what you create. It’s how you introduce yourself and your work to your customers—your words, the design of your website, pricing, the venues you choose, even your business card.

No detail is a throwaway.

Your customer may only be able to afford a salad, or she may only want dessert, but if you do it right, she’ll remember you and the care you took to create an experience that made her feel like an important guest rather than just another sale. She may come back wanting another salad—or she might decide she wants a four-course dinner.

Create an unforgettable experience
It’s not about how much money you spend—although at some point most of us have to invest real money in our businesses—it’s about the thought you put into every aspect of your brand and your marketing message. It’s about the story you tell.

Telling a good story isn’t about picking a theme and jamming it down the throats of your audience. There’s a big difference between funky and tacky, or between elegant and done to death. A good story creates context. Context creates atmosphere. Atmosphere seeps into the consciousness of your audience. Just like the ambience in an elegant restaurant, the context you create stays with your customers. They associate that feeling with you.

You don’t have to turn yourself inside out or agonize over every tiny detail. Just ask yourself: does this complement my work and reputation or detract from it?

Your brand is every experience your customer has with you and your business. When you align your marketing message with the quality and spirit of your work, you create an extraordinary brand.

Your turn
What do you think—do you believe context matters? Is the idea of a brand something you care about? Does presentation influence your buying decisions? Is the best way to learn about branding and marketing through your stomach?

How intention makes a brand – a quick case study

Stacey Cornelius — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 12:50:40 +0000

I’m acquainted with a professional artisan who does no advertising. She doesn’t have a blog, a Facebook fan page, Etsy shop or Twitter account. She has studio staff and has grown a successful small business.

Want to know her secret?

She does everything deliberately.

The proof is right in front of you
Encounter her at a show and it’s obvious—her work is beautifully designed and expertly executed. Her booth is elegant, well-lit, and professional. There are no stools or chairs in the booth—no one lounges around eating a sandwich or reading a newspaper. Price tags are visible, but unobtrusive. Her carefully-chosen packaging works perfectly with her business cards, her display, and her product.

There’s no hard sell. As a customer, you’re greeted with a relaxed smile. If you need a special order, there’s no hemming or hawing—you’re told how long the order will take, and it will be delivered on time.

You get executive class treatment.

No one has to tell you it’s executive class. The proof is right in front of you. In fact, if that message was presented to you literally, it would take away from your experience.

Your reputation is your brand
This artisan makes beautiful, high-quality work and provides excellent customer service. The feeling you get when you walk into her booth, the visual appeal of her work, the feel of it in your hands, the way she interacts with you—all these elements have helped her establish an excellent reputation.

The total experience she gives her customers establishes that reputation—in other words, it builds her brand.

I’ve had the opportunity to talk with her about how she started out. She approached her business with unflinching intention. She got good training. She knew what she wanted to do, and was sure enough of what she was creating, both in her art and her professional practice, to confidently ignore some pointed advice from a mentor. She learned how to present her work in its best light and how to keep her customers happy.

She goes to the right venues. She knows not every show is a good show. She takes the time to find out which shows are good for her, and which ones to avoid.

She treats her customers the way she expects to be treated, and her standards are high.

Yes, you can
You may have noticed I haven’t identified the artisan by name or medium. There are two reasons for this: first, she’s a private person and I don’t have her permission to say who she is, so I’m not telling. Second, and more important, identifying her medium opens the door for yes-buts. Yes, but everybody likes… yes, but the price is…

Nope.

I know people doing different kinds of work who are equally successful. Medium is not relevant to this discussion.

Set your intention
The biggest takeaway I can give you is this: there is absolutely no sense of hesitation. Everything is done with purpose. Everything. Design, execution, display, packaging, public interaction, even communication with staff. The intention behind every business decision does not waver, and it’s obvious.

You can achieve the same results in a way that aligns with your own work. If you’re eco-conscious and have no budget, you can make packaging out of newspapers and twine. You don’t apologetically or hastily crunch it around your work—you fold it beautifully to create packaging that will delight your customer.

You decide you want something special, and you figure out how to do it. You give that to your audience. You figure out a way you can afford to do it in terms of both materials and time (and you price everything properly). You don’t fret and say, “I can’t possibly…” and list a dozen reasons why you will fail—you say, “I’m going to learn how to make this work.”

You set your intention, you maintain your purpose, you follow through. People notice. You build your brand.

Over to you: does this case study change the way you think about a brand? Where do you look for examples of creatives who really set the bar?

The ins and outs of your first impression (part 2 – look outward)

Stacey Cornelius — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 12:55:30 +0000

So you’ve had a little time to banish objections and self-made intimidation. This next part is simple—come up with one thing to improve your first impression. One. Here are a few ideas to get you going:

Firm up your handshake

Take a look at your business card (do you have a business card?). Does it feel like you? Is it still fresh, or does it feel stale, or maybe even generic? Are you proud to put it in someone’s hand? Does it fit in with everything else you use to promote your work?

Spruce up your retail or trade show booth (or your studio, storefront or home office). Update the colour of the backdrop, clean up your signage, or think about some new display props. If you’re showing your work on pegboard, this is the year to get rid of it. Pegboard is for hanging tools.

If you don’t have one already, or if your existing one needs a facelift, get a logo. You can use it for your website, your social media presence, your business card, and your packaging. That’s a huge bang for your buck. So get a good one.

Establish your online brand

Ditch the free blog and get your own domain. Putting down virtual stakes gives the impression of solidity. There are plenty of low-cost hosting plans out there, and many allow you to easily import an existing blog.

Maybe it’s time you got a website. Not everybody needs one (yes, I know, it’s heresy to utter those words online. I’m done following the herd). If you have a successful bricks-and-mortar business, you might not need a website. The Yellow Pages Online might do the trick. Do some research and make a smart decision. If you have enough clients through word of mouth, you might use social media instead. If you’re an artist, a blog might be the perfect one-stop-shopping solution—with your own domain name. Ahem.

A well-designed website makes a powerful first impression. Particularly if you’re telling people how creative you are.

Decide what kind of social networking works best for you—Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Myspace, all of the above, one of them, or none. Planting your flag in more than one place gives more people a chance to find you.

Before you say, “None,” I double-dog dare you to have a look at Twitter. There is a staggering amount of information being shared, and plenty of it for creatives, even the fine art crowd. The Museum of Modern Art is on Twitter. You don’t need an account to take a look.

Ditch the clutter

If you have a social media account you haven’t done anything with, use it or lose it—by choice. Don’t hang onto an inactive account “just in case.” That’s fear. Getting rid of things you don’t use helps clear your head.

If your last blog post was in October… you know what to do. Stale blogs aren’t the mark of a pro. Stale blogs are flaky.

If your customers visit your studio, tidy it up. Total cost: zero dollars.

There. A short list of possibilities. Find one thing. Then do it.

What’s on your list that you can do right now? What’s on your list that you think can’t be done? How can I help you kick over your roadblocks? Leave a comment below, or send an email from the Contact page.

A branding case study and a virtual field trip, part 2

Stacey Cornelius — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:09:56 +0000

Last time I sent you on a virtual field trip to analyze a brand. I promised to give you the in-person low-down, so here it is.

Cora’s is a most-of-the-day breakfast restaurant. The logo is a hand-drawn smiling sun. If you go to Cora’s during peak dining time, there are lineups. If you go a half hour before closing on Sunday, it’s still busy. If you go half an hour before closing during the week, there are lots of empty tables, but the covered dish of complimentary fudge near the cash register looks like a pack of grizzly bears went through it.

Cora’s has simple decor. There are a couple of rows of booths and a few rows of plain wooden tables. The kitchen runs most of the length of the space, which is longer than it is wide. The place is spotless. The tables are bussed quickly and efficiently. The walls are decorated with groovy hand-drawn pictures of some of the menu items, which mirrors the style of the menu. The service is fast, the coffee is hot, and the food is pretty darn good.

I can’t say the food is extraordinary, because I’ve been spoiled by farmers’ market gourmet sausages (meat and spices with no filler) and made-from-scratch Hollandaise sauce. That kind of food comes with a longer wait time and higher price, and Cora’s doesn’t pretend to be a gourmet restaurant. I get the sausages and Hollandaise I expect from a place that charges about $10 to $15 per entree.

One of the things I like best is the food that lands in front of me bears a striking resemblance to the picture on the menu. There’s no bait and switch, what you get is what you expect. In other words, Cora’s keeps her promise.

These two photos, by the way, are used with the gracious permission of Sharon Yeo. Sharon has a great blog called Only Here for the Food. She wrote about her own experience at Cora’s a few weeks ago. I found her blog as I was looking at restaurant reviews while preparing this post. There are more pictures there, including a couple of the restaurant interior. If you like food in general, I highly recommend you take a look at Sharon’s blog. Her photographs alone are worth the visit.

So let’s talk about the brand exercise. Wait—let me back up one step. When I say, “brand,” do you immediately think of something slick and corporate, like Apple Computer or Volkswagen? If that word is a stumbling block, you can replace it with “style” or “business identity” if that helps you think of the exercise in terms of small businesses or solo endeavours. Marketing uber-meister Seth Godin defines a brand as “[Prediction of what to expect] times [emotional power of that expectation].” That definition can be applied to businesses of all shapes and sizes.

Prediction and expectation produced a couple of interesting comments on part one of our virtual field trip. Cora’s website doesn’t quite measure up to the in-person experience. The right elements are there, but the site could use a little polish (this isn’t wildly surprising—there are a whole lot of businesses that stumble when it comes to their websites). The drawings turned a couple of people off, but when you’re in the restaurant itself, they make sense. The atmosphere is something of a cross between an old-fashioned diner and, well, your Aunt Cora’s kitchen. The style of the menu is homemade. The style of the food is homemade—it’s comfort food. Unlike the other breakfast places I’ve visited, Cora’s serves up fresh fruit with most of the dishes. It’s presented well, and you have a sense that the kitchen staff care about it. Those hand-drawn pictures remind you there’s a real person behind the business who loves what she does.

Was it fair to ask you to analyze the brand based solely on the website? Given the criteria-the total experience a customer has with a business, product or service—you might say no. But if you haven’t been to Cora’s in person, your total experience is the website.

Which is exactly what happens to your audience when they visit you online.

Wherever we go, we take our expectations, preconceptions, and personal preferences along for the ride. If you’re of the opinion that branding is for big business and better left for corporate types, this exercise might cause you to reconsider. It’s well worth spending some time thinking about how you introduce yourself to your prospective customers and how you set and meet their expectations.

If you feel overwhelmed by the idea of developing your own brand (or style, or business identity), consider Cora’s. It isn’t the best restaurant on the planet. It’s not trying to be. The goal is to be the best breakfast place in its niche—geographically as well as price-wise. Cora’s serves up great food in a cheerful atmosphere at a reasonable price. She sets herself apart with her personal style and interesting menu items (it’s worth noting the French Canadian cultural influence in the food and graphic design). The brand isn’t slick and corporate. She simply shows you what she does and how she does it, and keeps her promise.

So was that an eye-opener? Has your opinion of Cora’s changed? Did you come up with questions about branding? Are you looking at your own brand with a more objective mindset? What’s your favourite breakfast eatery?

A branding case study and a virtual field trip, part 1

Stacey Cornelius — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 12:55:57 +0000

Last time I talked about how easy it is to break your brand (and how some people can take it personally). I’ve since reattached my head (more or less), and thought it might be fun to have a look at a brand for a bricks-and-mortar business. Since we’re scattered all over creation, we can’t climb on a tour bus, so we’ll go on a virtual field trip instead.

We’re going to Cora’s to study how the restaurant is branded. For our purposes, we’ll think about a brand as the total experience a customer has with a business, product or service. Some of you may have been to Cora’s, but most of you will likely have to rely on what you find online. This will be a very valuable exercise for your own business.

To start, visit Cora’s home page. Without overanalyzing, what’s your first impression? Jot it down, or just think about it.

Next, find out about Cora’s Delightful Tale. See if the history of the business and the way it’s presented fits with your first impression. Have a look at the story of some of the menu items.

Once you’ve gotten a general sense of the business, play around on the site. Think about how easy it is to navigate, and take note if you have any trouble finding your way around. Really think about your gut reactions or emotional responses. Does it make you want to eat there? If you’ve been there before, does the website fit with your experience of the place?

Based on what you learn on the site, try to imagine what it would be like to visit. Write a short description of the restaurant. Pretend you’re submitting it to a restaurant or tourism guide, or for a good writing challenge, see how concise you can be in 140 characters.

I’ve eaten at Cora’s (I think the staff are starting to recognize me and the spousal equivalent), so next time I’ll tell you what I’ve experienced and we can compare notes.

What do you think about case studies? Good? Bad? Ugly? Too much like work? A good way to learn without a textbook?

Sith Lords and a cautionary tale about branding

Stacey Cornelius — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 12:55:56 +0000

I am in the midst of the two busiest weeks of my year. My neck is turning to stone, I have knots in my shoulders big enough to name, and my brain is mush.

Why all this hilarity? Sometimes procrastination is my drug of choice. Don’t look at me like that—how often do you follow your own advice?

So what do I do when my head is attached by duct tape and a prayer? Turn my imagination loose and give myself a good break.

Sometimes my imagination strays into outer space.

I was one of the lucky kids who got to sit in a theatre and watch while a tiny rebel spaceship streaked across a black sky, followed by a massive, lumbering cruiser. It descended from the top of the screen, and as we watched open-mouthed, some unconscious rule of proportion told me to expect to see the end of the ship.

Apparently it’s a universal rule of proportion. Just as I was gaping in disbelief, there were voices expressing shock as that beast of a ship just kept coming. It was incredible. I was in geeky movie Nirvana.

Within the first few minutes of Star Wars, we knew who we were cheering for, and exactly what the rebels were up against. The rest of the movie didn’t let us down.

Fast forward to 2005. We’re at the pivotal moment in Revenge of the Sith. We’re about to see what finally drives Anakin Skywalker over the edge to the Dark Side. There’s an awful lightsaber fight with Obi-Wan. Anakin is horribly maimed. I remember thinking how upsetting that scene might be for the kids in the crowd. Then it happened. Mangled and enraged, Anakin meets Obi-Wan’s eyes and finally breaks.

“I HATE YOU!”

There were a number of thoughts in my mind at that moment, but the one I remember most clearly was this: “Anakin, go to your room.”

The kid’s supposed to be the chosen one. He’s supposed to be lured away from his beautiful and very pregnant wife, his friends and mentors, drawn into a pit of unspeakable evil, and the best the writers can come up with is the three words that characterize every generic temper tantrum since the dawn of civilization?

Since we’re playing well, here’s my point: this is what happens when you break your brand. Your audience doesn’t believe you. Sometimes they feel let down. And sometimes they get mad.

Star Wars is an epic tale. Sure, the special effects of the original three movies look pretty hokey now, and some of the dialogue was, well…

But the story is classic, the mythical hero’s journey. And Darth Vader was a villain who left an impression, particularly if you met him when you were a kid. In fact, the American Film Institute ranks him as one of their top villains.

You don’t mess with that brand. It’s like monkeying around with the formula for Coca-Cola.

Truth be told, I hated all three of the second batch of Star Wars films. I didn’t connect with Anakin in any of his incarnations. I wanted to desperately hope that he wouldn’t be lured to the Dark Side by Montgomery Bur- er, Chancellor Palpatine, because that would have been one hell of a story. But to hope the end of a story you already know will be different, you have to connect with the characters. My favourite actor in Revenge of the Sith was Yoda. A computer generated Muppet. So I sat through Revenge of the Sith with fading hope that the final moments would redeem the travesty that came before it.

What did I get? A petulant post-adolescent tantrum at the edge of a lava lake.

Sith Lords do not have hissy fits. Not even Sith Lords who aren’t quite Sith Lords yet. Heroes who fall have to be convincing heroes first. Heroes don’t sleepwalk their way to the Dark Side. We already knew Darth Vader and what he represented. We needed to believe how he got there.

When your audience believes in your brand, you have to be consistent. Your brand will evolve with your business, but take a side trip to jump around in the dandelions and your fans might get a bit testy.

Don’t even ask me about Jar-Jar Binks.

Opinions? Did you love the original three? Love the three that came after? Ignore the whole lot?

Seven ways to shape your brand

Stacey Cornelius — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 19:01:20 +0000

The word “brand” often has corporate connotations. A symbol of an apple with a bite out of it, golden arches, the swoosh—but branding isn’t just for monster corporations, and it’s not just about a logo or trademark.

Your brand is a collection of customer experiences. Everything from the business card you put into someone’s hand to the header on your website makes an impression. Here are seven ways to make your professional identity memorable.

Be consistent with your typeface. Don’t use one font for your blog title and another on your business card. When you’re consistent, you reinforce your message.
Use decorative fonts with caution. If you’re a do-it-yourselfer, it’s tempting to use the decorative fonts that come with your operating system. Except lots of other people are tempted to do that, too. Google “free fonts” to see what’s available. Sometimes it’s better to use a simple serif (formal, classic) or sans serif (clean, modern) font than go overboard with whistles and bells.
Don’t skimp on your business cards. If you do business exclusively online, this won’t apply to you, but if you have the opportunity to meet people in the real world, a great business card makes an impact. Consider the colour and texture of the stock you choose. A glossy card feels different than classic linen card stock.
Pick a colour, any colour. A graphic designer once told me, “If it doesn’t work in black and white, it doesn’t work.” So don’t feel like you have to go all out decorating the joint; one accent colour with a white background and black text might just do the trick.
Tweak your voicemail. If your voicemail sounds like the automated message for your local transit system, pretend you’re talking to someone when you record it. Or get someone to stand in front of you so you really can talk to someone (if you do that route, set aside some time, because you’ll probably get the giggles on your first few run-throughs). If you sound like you’re talking to your bratty little brother, you might want to adjust that, too. Unless the bratty little brother tone is part of your brand.
Use an email signature. Have your website listed, maybe Twitter or Facebook (don’t overdo it) and a studio phone number. Lots of self-employed people don’t have an email signature. If you’re not sure how to set it up, check the Help menu in your email software.
Hire a pro. Good graphic designers get paid good money for a reason, but there are ways to keep costs down. See who has a style that works nicely with yours, and talk to that designer about what you’re looking for. You might be able to barter for some or all of the work. If your budget is near zero, use the above six tips. If you have a little cash to spend, consider a logo design or blog header.Your designer can give you a version you can use on your blog or website, and another formatted for printing on business cards, signage, and swag (I want to make Studio Source lunch boxes). A well-designed logo goes a long way to establishing your brand. It gives you a solid foundation that you can build on.

Anything to add to the list?