Hedda Schupak

Is This Breaking a Brand Promise?
June 25, 2008

At the JCK Show in Las Vegas, I had two opportunities to think about the concept of a “brand promise.” One was during the conference program, where speaker Nan Piper Kochanski discussed the importance of having—and never breaking—a brand promise. The other was in a shoe store in the Grand Canal Shoppes, where I felt a brand promise was broken.

One example Nan discussed about a brand promise was that of the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Hong Kong. She overheard a young woman complaining about the hotel and how she’d never stay there again. Since Nan’s daughter and future son-in-law are both managers at the hotel, she couldn’t resist asking why the woman disliked it so much.

It turned out there was nothing wrong with the hotel, but there was a disconnect between the hotel’s brand promise and the young guest’s expectations. The woman was looking for a “hot spot” for meeting people, while the Mandarin prides itself on delivering a luxurious retreat for well-heeled, overworked guests seeking privacy and a place to unwind—i.e. a place to go when you don’t want to meet people.

The Mandarin did not break its brand promise. The guest—or her travel agent—simply didn’t understand the brand promise, or didn’t think it through before booking her room.

The other tale involves a pair of horribly swollen feet (mine) and a brand of shoe (Rockport) whose entire reputation is built on comfort. Anyone who knows me well has probably just choked on their morning coffee, because “Rockport” and “Hedda” are two names not usually uttered in the same breath.

But if I’m in enough pain to go to a shoe store where the brand promise is comfort, I expect the salespeople to know something about feet. Admittedly, the Rockport brand is much more fashionable than it used to be, but let’s face it—we’re still not talking about Manolo Blahnik here!

But suffering for the sake of style has its limits, and after five days in Vegas, I’d reached them. I peruse Rockport’s display and select a few pairs of adjustable sandals that I hope will fit onto my feet, which by now are several times their normal size. Saleswoman comes over; I show her my feet and also point out that my ankles have disappeared as well. She’s a friendly woman who knows well what the store has in its inventory—but knows not at all what of its inventory is going to help my poor pathetic pups.

For me, the Rockport brand promise was broken. I really, honestly thought that a store like Rockport—whose entire raison d’etre is comfort—would train its salespeople to know something about feet. I don’t expect them to go to podiatry school, but I do expect some knowledge about common foot problems (like, say, the kind you get from walking a tradeshow…) and which shoe would work for which problem.

I also expected the store to have a ready and extensive supply of insoles, ball-of-foot cushions, anti-slip pads, gel pads, and all the other accoutrements that help customize and add comfort to a shoe. I didn’t expect to be told that the nearest supply of foot pads was at Walgreens next to the Wynn (to which I was supposed to hike on aforementioned feet?).

I don’t fault the saleswoman. She was attentive, focused, she knew as much as she’d been trained to know, and she genuinely was trying to be helpful—but it was clear she hadn’t been given the tools to do so. I did ultimately find a pair of sandals that I could work onto my feet—and, as a veteran tradeshow warrior, I know to bring my own stash of foot pads.

If your brand promise is service, are you giving your team the tools they need to provide the kind of service the customer expects from your brand promise? Have you surveyed your customers to ensure that your idea of service and theirs are in sync with each other?

Posted by Hedda Schupak on June 25, 2008 | Comments (0)