Ce Qu'il Ya Dans Un Nom, Bébé? Beacoup ou Rien?

At university I studied business with a minor in Mandarin and minor minor in thumb-sucking. What really interested me, though, was marketing. I haven`t got an engineer`s brain so it`s unlikely I`ll ever be the manufacturer of a product, at least not anything technical, but I love the challenge of getting a product to its ultimate destination...the consumer.

I`m pretty much out of that world now, having become a Leisurologist at age 29, but I still think like a marketeer.

Did you say Mousketeer, Ian?

No, I said marketeer. As I wander around the streets of Toronto and marvel at the thousands of businesses, I always have my marketeer's cap on. A few businesses make an effort to market themselves, but the majority appear to just plunk themselves down at street level, hang a shingle and wait for the deluge. Or the trickle. There's a lot of competition in this town, but there's also a lot of demand if you have the right product or service.

One thing that always commands my attention is signage. It gives that first impression that is so important. Sometimes it's not just the sign that matters, but the name of the business. This reminds me of a story....

Years ago I was driving through Maine, in or near Ellsworth, and I was looking to purchase something. I forget what the item was now, but it was something that you would find in a department store. I remember seeing a large store in the distance. The sign on the building had only the name of the business. I think it might have been Ames or something meaningless to a Canuck like me. From where I was sitting, in my car, it was obvious that Ames was either a hardware store, a grocery store or department store, but I couldn't tell which. Being an efficient individual, I didn't go to Ames because I didn't want to waste a single moment of MDIT (Mount Desert Island Time).

Now, had the sign said 'Ames...New England's Department Store' I would have gone to the store and left some money in their till. Bad signage. Their loss. Now, look at today's image. Roche BoBois. Remember, I majored in Commerce and minored in Mandarin. Roche BoBois means nothing to me. Je ne pooh pas parle, eh, le frond say. BUT...any business called Roche BoBois Paris says one thing to me. No, it screams one thing to me....

You. Can't. Afford. Me.

So even though Roche Bobois, the name, means nothings to me, it still sends a clear message. Adding Paris after Roche Bobois just seals the deal. Without going into the store, I somehow just knew that I'd have to sell my car just to buy a pillow and a place mat.

That speaks more to the value of your car than the price of the Roche Bobois meubles!

There is some truth to that comment. I actually looked up their web site on-line and nowhere could I find a price for anything.

Si vous devez demander...

I know, I know...I can't afford it. Now, if the building had no windows then I would have had no idea what business they were in (but still would have known I couldn't have afforded them by the chi-chi French name alone!). The building, however, did have a window or two. Behind one window was an over-sized red chaise that....that....that (how to put this in gently context)....that you ain't gonna find in Leon's. So the name and the facade told the tale.

It's a good lesson in marketing. Roche Bobois more or less pre-screens their clientele, weeding out the riff-raff (me), by using a name with 'connotations' and a window with 'c'est cher' pizazz. Ditto for the Porsche dealership just down the road from Roche Bobois. I have yet to walk inside either showroom. In both cases, those who walk through their doors are either rich or delusional or religious pilgrims.

Wow...a lot of typing today. I'm getting hungry. Maybe I'll go to the Pickle Barrel restaurant.

Pickle Barrel restaurant??

The Pickle Barrel restaurant is a chain of Toronto based restaurants. There are twelve in the GTA. Now, I've never eaten at a Pickle Barrel restaurant but the name alone suggests one thing....

I won't be washing my caviar down with champagne.