Many years ago, a friend told me his sister needed a house-sitter. She and her partner turned out to be teachers of the Alexander Technique. This is a kind of bodywork that was created by a performer whose difficulty in breathing properly onstage ultimately led him to re-think how he used his body. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_technique
One of the core principles in Alexander work is learning to use the appropriate effort to accomplish a task--no more, no less. "Gladys," my friend's sister, pointed out that if you look at commercials on television the people are "brushing the teeth right out of their mouths." They are using much more effort than necessary.
Ring any bells?
Many of us over-invest in our clients, customers, employees.
Now, please don't misunderstand. I'm not advocating becoming passive or lazy, saying, "I've been working too hard. I think I'll just take the next week off." Or, "Who cares about you?"
No. I'm simply suggesting that when we over-invest we are less productive than when we invest appropriately. When we invest in an appropriate way, we maximize our ability to help the greatest number of people. Each relationship benefits as we do our part, but only our part.
I speak from experience. Years ago I was discussing a project with a client. He said, "You care about this more than I do."
He was right. And I was wrong.
When we over-invest we achieve poorer results in the relationship. And we rob ourselves of the energy we need for other projects, not to mention our life outside of work.
So why do we do it? That's a question for another time. For now, let's concentrate our efforts on breaking the pattern.
1. Take a moment to write the names of a few people you work with. If you're in your own business, choose a couple of customers or clients, a couple of employees, a couple of vendors, and a couple of subcontractors. If you're in-house, choose your employer and a couple of co-workers. If you report to a supervisor and/or have people who report to you, add their names. And if an agency sent you to the job, add your contact at the agency.
2. On a new sheet of paper, make five columns. Label the first column, "Name." Above the second column, write, "More Invested." Above the third column, write, "Less Invested." And above the fourth, write, "Equal Investment."
3. The first column obviously gets the names from your list. Give each name its own line. In the second column, write your name or the other person's name, depending on the level of investment you perceive. Do the same thing in the third and fourth column.
Et voila! You already know where you've been making more of an effort (where you're not being met halfway), where you've been making less of an effort (where you're not meeting the other person halfway), and where your business relationships are in balance. (And yes, you can also use this to take stock of personal relationships.)
4. Add as many key players as you can think of, and follow Steps One through Three to delineate the level of investment in each case.
And now what? What about Column Number Five?
Stay tuned.
©2011, 2012 Laynie Tzena.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Nice Doing Business With You
I was in a bookstore one day and opened a book on writing for Hollywood. It contained many suggestions, one most useful of all.
“Make it easy for people to do business with you.”
So simple, so easy to forget, and so vital for anyone, anywhere, who wants someone to hire you, recommend you--basically, if you want people to want to talk to you, make it easy for them to do business with you.
Sure, but we all know that, right?
I wish.
I went into one of my favorite stores recently, the one where I’ve bought my phone and headset for years. I use my phone a lot in business and the headset, too, and both are manufactured by companies that are devout believers in planned obsolescence. (By the way, there is not a one-to-one correspondence between price and quality with these; the expensive ones seem to wear out in about the same time as the El Cheapo versions.) So I always get the warranty and after about six months, I head to the store to exchange the worn-out version for one that will work for the next six months.
“Oh, I need to tell you,” said my friend at the store. “We’ll take this one back. But we’re not doing that anymore. You need to send it back to the manufacturer.”
Eek! Send it back to the manufacturer. We all know what that means.
I said, “Why? We’ve been doing this for years.”
“It’s the new policy,” she said.
Oh, good. A policy. Now we’re getting somewhere.
We’re getting to the end of our business relationship, that’s where.
I was in the store again shortly thereafter. They have a great color copier, which I use a lot in my work. All the service bureaus used to have nice paper in the color copiers, but in the past few years they all switched to Grade Q paper. So I just ask for the nice paper, they give it to me, I make my copies, give them back the rest of the paper, and go home.
“Hi,” I said, “Can I have the nice paper?”
The clerk looked at me.
“You know,” I said, “the heavier paper.”
Her manager approached. “We don’t do that anymore,” she said. She explained that the nice paper costs more than the Grade Q paper does. What a surprise.
I said, “But the copies don’t cost you 49 cents, right?”
No, no. Logic will not work here.
“It’s our new policy,” she said. “The only way you can have copies on that paper is if we make them back here for you.”
I explained that I needed to spend some time on the layout. Then I gave it one more try. “How about, just this one time, you let me use the paper?”
And here is where we entered the stratosphere--or the lower levels of hell--in customer service. The manager said, “Well, actually, the fact that we let you do it last time"--when the new policy wasn't mentioned--"that was your chance to use it.”
Yes, she really said that. Now, what she doesn't know is that I'd been scanning a lot of images lately, not making as many color copies as I had in the past. So my first thought was, "Maybe I don't need to make that many color copies anymore."
Paper savings divided by lost business equals . . .
Nobody on their deathbed ever wished they had spent more time at the office, and nobody ever recommended a company because it enforced a policy they didn’t like.
But wait a minute, you say. You have to have policies. And you can’t have your customers dictate your policies.
True. But you get to decide when and how to enforce a policy, and that decision needs to be based on the customer experience.
If you enforce a policy simply because “that’s the way we do things here,” you are building a wall between your company and your customer. And you are on your way to losing that customer. If you work for someone else, you are on your way to getting fired--even if the boss seems happy you enforced it. Why? Because whether you work for yourself or someone else, ultimately we all work for one person: the customer standing in front of us.
But what if you're in a large company and the powers that be say, "This is the drill"? What do you do then?
For starters, remember that in the end the powers that be will not be in the store with the customer. That doesn't mean you don't have to enforce policies. Often, you do. But find a way to minimize the negative impact on the customer. You've worked hard to build a relationship with your customer. Keep that in mind.
Let's start with the new policy about equipment returns. Put yourself in the customer's shoes. How is this likely to impact him or her? What might the customer be feeling? Probably something akin to rejection: "Yeah, we used to do that, but too bad. We don't care about you. We're not going to help you. You're on your own."
So don't pretend everything is honky-dory, and send a "Just deal with it" message. Show up. Say something like, "They're telling us we can't take the equipment back any more. I'm really sorry. I know it's inconvenient." Then give them some concrete help. You send things back to the manufacturer all the time. Give them tips on how to get better results: what kind of packaging is best to use, how to reduce time on hold when calling the manufacturer, and anything else you can think of to make it less of a headache. Help the customer integrate the new way of doing things, so he or she doesn't feel left out in the cold.
Now let's look at the paper fiasco. Clearly the company is trying to cut costs. What could the people in the copy center do? Tell the customer, "I like that paper, too. And I know the new policy is a bit of a hassle, but the good news is we carry that paper you like here in the store, on Aisle Ten. And it's not that expensive, either. So you can still use that paper for your copies." (Note to store: If you now make a rule that says, "You can't use your own paper," get out of the copy business.) The message changes from "Too bad for you" to "Here's how you can still have what you want."
Funny thing: the problem wasn't the policy, after all. The problem was they forgot to take care of the customer.
©2011 Laynie Tzena.
“Make it easy for people to do business with you.”
So simple, so easy to forget, and so vital for anyone, anywhere, who wants someone to hire you, recommend you--basically, if you want people to want to talk to you, make it easy for them to do business with you.
Sure, but we all know that, right?
I wish.
I went into one of my favorite stores recently, the one where I’ve bought my phone and headset for years. I use my phone a lot in business and the headset, too, and both are manufactured by companies that are devout believers in planned obsolescence. (By the way, there is not a one-to-one correspondence between price and quality with these; the expensive ones seem to wear out in about the same time as the El Cheapo versions.) So I always get the warranty and after about six months, I head to the store to exchange the worn-out version for one that will work for the next six months.
“Oh, I need to tell you,” said my friend at the store. “We’ll take this one back. But we’re not doing that anymore. You need to send it back to the manufacturer.”
Eek! Send it back to the manufacturer. We all know what that means.
I said, “Why? We’ve been doing this for years.”
“It’s the new policy,” she said.
Oh, good. A policy. Now we’re getting somewhere.
We’re getting to the end of our business relationship, that’s where.
I was in the store again shortly thereafter. They have a great color copier, which I use a lot in my work. All the service bureaus used to have nice paper in the color copiers, but in the past few years they all switched to Grade Q paper. So I just ask for the nice paper, they give it to me, I make my copies, give them back the rest of the paper, and go home.
“Hi,” I said, “Can I have the nice paper?”
The clerk looked at me.
“You know,” I said, “the heavier paper.”
Her manager approached. “We don’t do that anymore,” she said. She explained that the nice paper costs more than the Grade Q paper does. What a surprise.
I said, “But the copies don’t cost you 49 cents, right?”
No, no. Logic will not work here.
“It’s our new policy,” she said. “The only way you can have copies on that paper is if we make them back here for you.”
I explained that I needed to spend some time on the layout. Then I gave it one more try. “How about, just this one time, you let me use the paper?”
And here is where we entered the stratosphere--or the lower levels of hell--in customer service. The manager said, “Well, actually, the fact that we let you do it last time"--when the new policy wasn't mentioned--"that was your chance to use it.”
Yes, she really said that. Now, what she doesn't know is that I'd been scanning a lot of images lately, not making as many color copies as I had in the past. So my first thought was, "Maybe I don't need to make that many color copies anymore."
Paper savings divided by lost business equals . . .
Nobody on their deathbed ever wished they had spent more time at the office, and nobody ever recommended a company because it enforced a policy they didn’t like.
But wait a minute, you say. You have to have policies. And you can’t have your customers dictate your policies.
True. But you get to decide when and how to enforce a policy, and that decision needs to be based on the customer experience.
If you enforce a policy simply because “that’s the way we do things here,” you are building a wall between your company and your customer. And you are on your way to losing that customer. If you work for someone else, you are on your way to getting fired--even if the boss seems happy you enforced it. Why? Because whether you work for yourself or someone else, ultimately we all work for one person: the customer standing in front of us.
But what if you're in a large company and the powers that be say, "This is the drill"? What do you do then?
For starters, remember that in the end the powers that be will not be in the store with the customer. That doesn't mean you don't have to enforce policies. Often, you do. But find a way to minimize the negative impact on the customer. You've worked hard to build a relationship with your customer. Keep that in mind.
Let's start with the new policy about equipment returns. Put yourself in the customer's shoes. How is this likely to impact him or her? What might the customer be feeling? Probably something akin to rejection: "Yeah, we used to do that, but too bad. We don't care about you. We're not going to help you. You're on your own."
So don't pretend everything is honky-dory, and send a "Just deal with it" message. Show up. Say something like, "They're telling us we can't take the equipment back any more. I'm really sorry. I know it's inconvenient." Then give them some concrete help. You send things back to the manufacturer all the time. Give them tips on how to get better results: what kind of packaging is best to use, how to reduce time on hold when calling the manufacturer, and anything else you can think of to make it less of a headache. Help the customer integrate the new way of doing things, so he or she doesn't feel left out in the cold.
Now let's look at the paper fiasco. Clearly the company is trying to cut costs. What could the people in the copy center do? Tell the customer, "I like that paper, too. And I know the new policy is a bit of a hassle, but the good news is we carry that paper you like here in the store, on Aisle Ten. And it's not that expensive, either. So you can still use that paper for your copies." (Note to store: If you now make a rule that says, "You can't use your own paper," get out of the copy business.) The message changes from "Too bad for you" to "Here's how you can still have what you want."
Funny thing: the problem wasn't the policy, after all. The problem was they forgot to take care of the customer.
©2011 Laynie Tzena.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
From A Couple of Stores to the Silver Screen--And How We Got There
When Linda Lorraine came to Ideas Made Real, she already had this customer.
This customer shops on Haight Street, wears the gloves in the clubs South of Market. We wanted Linda Lorraine to be on Union Street. Union Square.
But we weren't saying, "Bye-bye, who needs you?" We wanted to keep this customer and attract the woman I call this customer’s “upscale cousin,” someone who could afford to buy more than one pair of gloves.
Here’s how we got there.
One of the first steps was creating Linda’s press kit. The well-dressed press kit contains a bio, a brochure, photographs of the product, and “tear sheets”: photocopies of articles that have appeared about your product. At the beginning, there are no tear sheets, so you substitute articles on related products, trends—basically, you’re making the case for why the recipient should take an interest in your product.
Linda already had a bio, so let’s start with the brochure. This is a folding brochure, a nice small size that could be handed out at shows or sent to the media. (Yes, you can still send things, as well as emailing them. People like to hold something in their hands.)
Here’s page one of the brochure I created for Linda. Her competition was cheaply-made gloves from overseas. We wanted our customer to know that a much better choice was available: Linda Lorraine gloves.
We quickly got the San Francisco Bay Guardian write-up.
And Linda started getting into more stores. (She was in three when she came in, none in the areas where her target customers shopped.) One of the first was In/San Francisco, a store in the San Francisco Centre (just off Union Square) devoted to local talent.
Mandy Behbehani included Linda in the write-up of In/San Francisco in the Examiner.
Lourdes Livingston wrote her up in the Chronicle.
I also work with trade media. This is one of the top trade magazines in Linda Lorraine’s field, Accessories.
And networking is so important. The then-fashion editor for SF Weekly, Liz Mechem, noticed Linda Lorraine’s gloves in an insert for their show guide for the Women’s Building Fair (now the Celebration of Craftswomen)
and selected the gloves for this photo shoot for Frisko magazine, “Going Outre on the Town” (I call this the “tall Madonna” shot).
Jo Mancuso included them in the "Whole Bay Catalog."
More SF Weekly photo shoots,
the “People” section of the Chronicle,
and then the cover of The City.
People began to take notice. When I first started talking with Linda, she mentioned that she had often been invited to SF Moda’s parties, that they had bought her gloves, but that they had never written about her. And now? Her work started showing up here,
and here
and, ultimately, they put her work on the cover.
Note that this was just the customer we were trying to attract.
So we were thrilled. But I also knew there was business beyond the Bay for Linda, and so I said, “Let’s not just target local media. Let’s go for Cosmopolitan and Elle.”
Linda said, “Yes. I was thinking of that.”
So I sent out the kit and immediately got a call back from Joanne Knowlton at Cosmopolitan.
“I love the gloves. Send me gloves for a photo shoot.”
Which we did.
And they didn’t get used.
But follow-up is everything. I kept in touch with Joanne, and she ultimately did a four-page shoot of Linda Lorraine gloves. Here are three of those pages.
They also did this shoot.
Elle was next.
And then Joanne Knowlton at Cosmopolitan called one day and said, “We’re doing a shoot on ‘Big Payoffs for Small Purchases.’ Do you have any any reversible gloves?’
“I think we might,” I said.
I will never lie for a client. But I will say, “Maybe.” I will always try to get my client in the door.
So here are those gloves.
The great thing—aside from the shot, which I think is drop-dead gorgeous—is that we had gone from a situation where we were trying to get in the door to one in which they were calling us.
One more thing. As soon as I saw Linda Lorraine’s zebra gloves, the leopard, the houndstooth, I said, “This is Hollywood.” But how to get there?
Remember, Ideas Made Real is all about creativity development. I put on my thinking cap, called someone who had worked for Paramount, we put our heads together, and I created a very small but very powerful ad that went in the directory of the Costume Designers’ Guild in Hollywood. The tag line was a pun on the old Hollywood line, “The Stuff that Dreams are Made of.” Later, Elizabeth Taylor would have “The Fragrance Dreams are Made Of.” Good company, to be sure.
The ad sat there. Linda said, “I’m not placing that ad again.”
I said, “Hang in there, Linda.” I never push advertising. In fact, when I work with people on their marketing, it’s far from the top of the list. But there are times that it’s absolutely the right vehicle, and I knew this was one of those times.
One day the phone rang. It was Warner Brothers. They wanted gloves for Batman Returns.
They didn’t use them.
The phone rang again. Gloves for Richard Gere.
He didn’t like them.
But the phone rang again, and this time it was what you call “paydirt.” On the line was a Los Angeles designer named Nolan Miller, who wanted Linda to create private label gloves for him. And one day Nolan Miller asked Linda to create gloves for Rebecca de Mornay to wear to the Academy Awards. This was the year she won for The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. She was also a presenter that year. She wore Linda Lorraine gloves on national television, syndicated internationally. And Mr. Blackwell, who pans everybody, said Rebecca de Mornay was “simply a vision in white satin.”
Linda’s gloves have since been worn by Joan Collins, Goldie Hawn--the list goes on and on.
We started with a couple of stores, and a vision.
Imagine what we could do for you.
©2011, 2013 Laynie Tzena.
This customer shops on Haight Street, wears the gloves in the clubs South of Market. We wanted Linda Lorraine to be on Union Street. Union Square.
But we weren't saying, "Bye-bye, who needs you?" We wanted to keep this customer and attract the woman I call this customer’s “upscale cousin,” someone who could afford to buy more than one pair of gloves.
Here’s how we got there.
One of the first steps was creating Linda’s press kit. The well-dressed press kit contains a bio, a brochure, photographs of the product, and “tear sheets”: photocopies of articles that have appeared about your product. At the beginning, there are no tear sheets, so you substitute articles on related products, trends—basically, you’re making the case for why the recipient should take an interest in your product.
Linda already had a bio, so let’s start with the brochure. This is a folding brochure, a nice small size that could be handed out at shows or sent to the media. (Yes, you can still send things, as well as emailing them. People like to hold something in their hands.)
Here’s page one of the brochure I created for Linda. Her competition was cheaply-made gloves from overseas. We wanted our customer to know that a much better choice was available: Linda Lorraine gloves.
We quickly got the San Francisco Bay Guardian write-up.
And Linda started getting into more stores. (She was in three when she came in, none in the areas where her target customers shopped.) One of the first was In/San Francisco, a store in the San Francisco Centre (just off Union Square) devoted to local talent.
Mandy Behbehani included Linda in the write-up of In/San Francisco in the Examiner.
Lourdes Livingston wrote her up in the Chronicle.
I also work with trade media. This is one of the top trade magazines in Linda Lorraine’s field, Accessories.
And networking is so important. The then-fashion editor for SF Weekly, Liz Mechem, noticed Linda Lorraine’s gloves in an insert for their show guide for the Women’s Building Fair (now the Celebration of Craftswomen)
and selected the gloves for this photo shoot for Frisko magazine, “Going Outre on the Town” (I call this the “tall Madonna” shot).
Jo Mancuso included them in the "Whole Bay Catalog."
More SF Weekly photo shoots,
the “People” section of the Chronicle,
and then the cover of The City.
People began to take notice. When I first started talking with Linda, she mentioned that she had often been invited to SF Moda’s parties, that they had bought her gloves, but that they had never written about her. And now? Her work started showing up here,
and here
and, ultimately, they put her work on the cover.
Note that this was just the customer we were trying to attract.
So we were thrilled. But I also knew there was business beyond the Bay for Linda, and so I said, “Let’s not just target local media. Let’s go for Cosmopolitan and Elle.”
Linda said, “Yes. I was thinking of that.”
So I sent out the kit and immediately got a call back from Joanne Knowlton at Cosmopolitan.
“I love the gloves. Send me gloves for a photo shoot.”
Which we did.
And they didn’t get used.
But follow-up is everything. I kept in touch with Joanne, and she ultimately did a four-page shoot of Linda Lorraine gloves. Here are three of those pages.
They also did this shoot.
Elle was next.
And then Joanne Knowlton at Cosmopolitan called one day and said, “We’re doing a shoot on ‘Big Payoffs for Small Purchases.’ Do you have any any reversible gloves?’
“I think we might,” I said.
I will never lie for a client. But I will say, “Maybe.” I will always try to get my client in the door.
So here are those gloves.
The great thing—aside from the shot, which I think is drop-dead gorgeous—is that we had gone from a situation where we were trying to get in the door to one in which they were calling us.
One more thing. As soon as I saw Linda Lorraine’s zebra gloves, the leopard, the houndstooth, I said, “This is Hollywood.” But how to get there?
Remember, Ideas Made Real is all about creativity development. I put on my thinking cap, called someone who had worked for Paramount, we put our heads together, and I created a very small but very powerful ad that went in the directory of the Costume Designers’ Guild in Hollywood. The tag line was a pun on the old Hollywood line, “The Stuff that Dreams are Made of.” Later, Elizabeth Taylor would have “The Fragrance Dreams are Made Of.” Good company, to be sure.
The ad sat there. Linda said, “I’m not placing that ad again.”
I said, “Hang in there, Linda.” I never push advertising. In fact, when I work with people on their marketing, it’s far from the top of the list. But there are times that it’s absolutely the right vehicle, and I knew this was one of those times.
One day the phone rang. It was Warner Brothers. They wanted gloves for Batman Returns.
They didn’t use them.
The phone rang again. Gloves for Richard Gere.
He didn’t like them.
But the phone rang again, and this time it was what you call “paydirt.” On the line was a Los Angeles designer named Nolan Miller, who wanted Linda to create private label gloves for him. And one day Nolan Miller asked Linda to create gloves for Rebecca de Mornay to wear to the Academy Awards. This was the year she won for The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. She was also a presenter that year. She wore Linda Lorraine gloves on national television, syndicated internationally. And Mr. Blackwell, who pans everybody, said Rebecca de Mornay was “simply a vision in white satin.”
Linda’s gloves have since been worn by Joan Collins, Goldie Hawn--the list goes on and on.
We started with a couple of stores, and a vision.
Imagine what we could do for you.
©2011, 2013 Laynie Tzena.
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