#30 Just for you

Once was a time, our consumer culture zigzagged from mass market to single serving. The pendulum swung from all-in-one to just for one. You used to be able to say it was Starbucks versus McDonalds. But the newer and wilier commercial coyotes now manage to combine the appeal of hand-tailored with the economy of scale of one-size-fits-all. Today’s Starbucks is a case in point. When you go there, you still feel like you have a choice. Whether you want your latte skinny, soy, or loaded with cream, vanilla and fat is up to you. And if you get it relatively quickly all the better. But if you have to wait in a ten-deep line, well, it’s the experience you’re paying for after all, and you can never see too many French presses, fancy candies and fabulously expensive and decadent pastries, can you? Forget for a moment that if you spent even half that time waiting in line at McDonalds you’d be sending a vicious all-cap email to the Mc-management. And you get a whole meal deal there. Sure, it takes a little longer to “have it your way” but you still don’t while away half the morning staring at the biscotti.
But still. There’s almost a Starbucks on every corner now. And for every Starbucks there’s three semi-local coffee bars. Hell, McDonalds is serving Seattle’s Best coffee these days. So it’s hard to maintain the notion that quality coffee is a “personal” experience. At what point does plentiful personal reach the critical mass of mass market?
And therein lies the genius and success of Starbucks’ founder Howard Schultz. Maintain the personal while operating on the masses. Kiss them first. Look ‘em in the eye and ask about their family while your hand snakes around and picks their pockets. Make them feel like they are the only person in the whole wide world and you’d be honored to take them to cleaners and steal their shirts.
George Zimmer is another icon of the mass personalization movement. His Men’s Warehouse systematized the suit sales process. Knowing that his advertising is good enough to bring in a potential client for one suit sale, he trains his staff to concentrate on selling up. They are rewarded extra for the second suit or sportcoat sale. And the other sales people are instructed to add shirts and ties and socks and skivvies to the ever-growing pile. The client thinks he is being super-served: They like me, they really like me. And it’s true. In a world of minimum wage Old Navy drones secretly sending text messages to their fleece-garbed buddies, any service seems personal.
So as I showered yesterday and looked at the tube of conditioner my wife had brought home I couldn’t help but smile. The label said “John Frieda Conditioner (but any designer-sounding name would have worked as well) Special formula for platinum to champagne blonds.” I’m guessing it’s the same pot of chemicals for every hair color but hey, what would I know? I just thought it was interesting that they didn’t say from “straw” to “corn husk” blonde. Special is nice but that platinum champagne thing is klassy with a capital K.
America, ya gotta love it.