Now Buy the Vest
IN AN EPISODE in the second volume of “Maus,” the withering account of his family’s Holocaust experience, Art Spiegelman is approached by a man who tells him, “Artie, baby. Check out this licensing deal. You get 50% of the profits. We’ll make a million. Your dad would be proud!”
And what is this great idea? He rolls out an ad: Maus
You’ve Read the Book Now Buy the Vest
That scene, though a minor part of Spiegelman’s masterpiece, says a lot about commerce in the United States. Even a work on the Holocaust can be turned into a brand.
And that shouldn’t surprise anyone with an interest in the tawdry. For brand is now the biggest buzzword in marketing (even bigger than CRM or data mining). All you have to do isforget about perfecting the product or service that put you on the map, and instead look for ways to extend it (no matter how far-fetched). Examples:
* Unsatisfied with the millions they’ve already accumulated, clothing designers and former movie stars put their names on bad cosmetics. And women buy them.
* TV networks leverage their lackluster programming to sell even worse merchandise.
* Movie audiences are assaulted with brand messages on the screen. (The nadir was the Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan turkey, “You’ve Got Mail,” in which it seemed that every object the stars picked up had a logo on it.)
Given the sameness that now exists in all parts of the United States, it’s amazing that consumers fall for it. Every town with more than 200,000 residents now has a river walk, seaport or historic railroad terminal. And every one of these ill-conceived bazaars has the same branded stores-The Gap, Banana Republic, Eddie Bauer, Williams-Sonoma, etc.
But these same establishments can also be found downtown, so that cities once known for their special flavor-i.e., New York, Chicago and New Orleans-have been turned into glorified strip malls. Why bother even leaving home?
The movie theme stores are the worst. Though I can’t specify what it is, there probably is some logic to buying a Winnie the Pooh coffee mug as a memento of your trip to Disney World. But why pick one up in New York, where there are far more relevant products available, like replicas of the Empire State Building with slots for coins?
And don’t think this is limited to what used to be called lowbrow culture. Drop into the Museum of Modern Art store, the home of the $60 designer stapler, and you will find the same branding mechanisms at work.
Sixty years ago, hawkers in Flemington, NJ sold replicas of the ladder allegedly used by Bruno Richard Hauptman to kidnap the Lindbergh baby. But they disappeared as soon as the case was over.
They didn’t understand the value of brand.
