Cut and Paste
WHEN MY SISTER and I were little, our mother used to save all the holiday catalogs she received. On Christmas, she would take them out and give them to us with glue, paper and scissors so we could cut and paste our own catalogs together.
What brings that nauseating bit of nostalgia to mind are the three catalogs on my desk, each one new. Cut and paste the best elements of each catalog together and you’d have one knockout of a piece.
Let’s start with Macy’s by Mail, Federated Department Stores’ new catalog meant, in part, to extend and exploit the Macy’s brand. Aimed at what used to be called the middle class with well-priced moderate and better clothing, furnishings and accessories, the catalog offers a 50-50 mix of house brands (Charter Club and The Cellar) and status labels (Klein and Lauren, among others).
Federated has lots of money to spend and it’s spent a lot on this launch. However, the catalog is by the numbers. Here’s a silhouette shot, there’s a product shot. Backgrounds, when they occur, are usually generic outdoors scenes: a rock, a tree, a green field. The models are generic pretty people.
Copy is brief, more a description of the product than an attempt to create romance and actually sell the item. There are also two breaks, one an article on wool and the other a piece on Tommy Hilfiger. Here copy is irritating when it’s not pablum. Hilfiger is asked why he chose Macy’s by Mail as one channel to roll out a bed and bath line. Hilfiger burbles: “We have enjoyed our relationship with Macy’s over the years, and have come to think of them as a partner in building the Tommy Hilfiger brand.”
It’s all very competent, but there’s no excitement. My first reaction to the catalog was that I had seen it before. Not good for any catalog, but worse for a launch.
MGM Star could be described as imagining what Neiman Marcus would do if it were in charge of, say, The Disney Catalog or Warner Bros. Studio Store. Not quite going after the upscale end of the Disney/Warner market, MGM partnered with Neiman Marcus to produce MGM Star.
Actually, it’s not bad. There’s a lot of clothing that’s supposed to echo the glamour of Hollywood, which it does in a kind of South Beach/Las Vegas-by-way-of Texas fashion. Some accessories echo the movie business-CD cases designed like film cans-while others are old posters or video reissues.
Being Neiman Marcus, of course, there has to be a high-priced gimmick gift. MGM is auctioning off a walk-on in a remake of the ’60s film, “The Thomas Crown Affair.” Bids start at $10,000, but there is no guarantee the scene won’t wind up on the editing room floor.
Since the difference between $10,000 and the final sale price goes to charity (the Entertainment Industry Foundation, to find a cure for ovarian cancer), the eventual buyer is spending five figures to be in a movie. It sounds like a lawsuit in the making if he or she doesn’t get screen time, if not a close-up, no matter what the fine print says. (A spokesperson for the catalog says that it’s not about screen time, but about giving to charity and the experience of getting star treatment on a film set. Right.)
That aside, MGM Star is a well-designed catalog, but with that connection, we expect more merchandise relating to all the wonderful movies MGM has made over the years and less general memorabilia “reflecting the glamour of Hollywood.” I can buy Jonathan Adler ceramics anywhere; this should be where I get an MGM-logo bomber jacket or delightfully garish double-old-fashioned glasses with the MGM lion’s head in aluminum.
Ultimately, the catalog is a branding opportunity for MGM lost.
In contrast, Banana Republic is not an operation to let a branding opportunity pass it by. Sarah Gallagher, senior vice president, catalog, says the book is supposed to reflect the store’s character.
Banana Republic faces a unique challenge: The specter of its old catalog, legendary in DM circles for its evocative copy.
But that was then, for Gallagher points out the new catalog reflects what Banana Republic is now. (She adds, however, that the photojournalist’s vest and Kenya convertible pant that are the first products offered in the book are a nod to Banana Republic’s past.)
Some 1 million catalogs were mailed in September, mostly to an in-house list of customers who left their names and addresses. Gallagher describes the target customer as 24 to 49. (A better sense of the target can be inferred from such media buys as GQ and Conde Nast Traveler in print and “Ally McBeal” and VH1 on TV to promote the book.
This is probably the best-looking catalog of the lot. The color scheme is neutral: stone, taupe, beige, camel, mushroom. Banana Republic never met a tan it didn’t like. The photography emphasizes the texture of the materials from cotton to suede. Shots are low density, styled to have only a few items, and mostly just one item. The offerings are shown on a wider variety of models than usually depicted in catalogs. While definitely models, the faces have more character. Various ethnic types are well represented.
As in the stores, men’s and women’s items are clearly separated. Whether they’ll be split into separate books-more accurately reflecting Banana Republic’s “gender specific” stores-depends on customer response.
A small home section closes the book. Gallagher explains that this section will be expanded in future editions since the catalog is meant to reach customers who can’t get to the 10 Banana Republic stores of the 260 that carry home products.
This could be the coffee table catalog of the year, even if it’s unlikely to be thought of in the same way as the old Banana Republic catalog. It gives customers another way to shop Banana Republic, and since the book makes the offerings look better than they are, it should capture new audiences for the chain. I only wish Banana Republic had something I would actually like to buy.
