Monday, January 31, 2011

Facetime


Disclaimer: This is strictly commentary. Not an instruction manual - I hope you're smart enough to know you shouldn't take instruction from me.

Sorry. If you expected this to be a post about the iPhone App, I'm sorry. Truly. Sorry.

I'm just kidding, I don't care.

This post is about branding. Sort of. This post is about faces. Sort of.

There's an interesting case study published by a psychologist named John C. Marshall. It's called "The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat." The case study (which starts on pg.7 of the link if you actually want to read) examines Dr.P's affliction. He's a professor of music who can't recognize nearly anything unless influenced by the context of music, most likely due to brain trauma. In one instance he describes a glove as a container with five compartments.

But it wasn't the uniquity of this case that interested me so much. It was the realization that it brought me to: we often neglect the ease with which we recognize objects. Faces in particular.

When I see my girlfriend, my mind doesn't dig into a filing cabinet and pull out a picture of her face: it retrieves a unique combination of measurements that correlate to relay a message. "That's my girlfriend." That, in turn sets off a totally different combination of reactions. Reactions that...nevermind.

The reason I use that example is because our mind does the same thing when we recognize a brand. That recognition also ignites a series of reactions. We call those
"brand associations" in
"the industry" that I'm
"not a part of."

I'm going to use McDonald's, Nike, Starbucks and Gatorade as four examples. Interestingly enough, the aforementioned all produce a consumer good. I'm having trouble coming up with a service provider that proves to be as synonymous with its logo as those four.

Chances are, an image of the golden arches or the swoosh will recall certain emotions and/or experiences that we associate with the brands. All of which are unique to every individual. (Negative or positive, each of the four brands mentioned has market saturation in their respected product categories so they're doing something right).

McDonald's and Nike dropped their brand names from their logo awhile back so that they just include a symbol. Gatorade, and more recently, Starbucks followed suit. That seems to be the trend. A trend that is by no means an easy feat to attain, but pretty much says "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Once I recognize my girlfriend, a myriad of emotional messages begin hopping across synapses. This too, is true for brands.

Just did it.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

To Whom It May Concern


I haven't blogged in awhile, so I thought I would refresh "Hairy Pottery" with something a bit universal.

There are a few common misconceptions that I disagree with:
1. Good coaching is hereditary (see Pat Knight)
2. Black makes you look thin
3. AppleBee's serves food.

Let me start off by saying I would never knock something without trying it first. I'm optimistic. And I would never go to AppleBee's under my own gumption. I'm pessimistic.

I turned 23 recently. I spent that birthday in Salem, IL. A google image search for the town will result in a picture for a sewage treatment facility and a picture of a pregnant woman. I don't know what that means.

Anyways, I spent my most recent birthday there, which is becoming a trend I hope ceases to exist. For my birthday dinner, my family (not me) decided to go to AppleBee's. I had preconcieved notions before I stepped in, but did my best to restrain them.

I order something. I don't remember what it was, and it doesn't matter because it's all probably microwaved, mechanically-separated meat (google it). What I do remember doing, was not ordering anything with diuretics, which our waitress managed to ignore.

The climax.

My uncle told our waitress it was my birthday.

I don't know where franchised restaurants get off thinking it's pleasant to have all the waitresses on staff come and sing you happy birthday. I would have laughed and smiled; had they laughed and smiled, but the scene was too morbose. The waitresses sang a rendition of "happy birthday" that Rihanna could've written (that's a joke cause Rihanna doesn't write her own music...sorry, kids), and stared at me. Just. Stared.

But hey, I got free ice cream and food poisoning out the gig, so I can't complain.