For those of you who managed to miss it, the Mayans were part of a cultural zeitgeist in the latter half of last year due to the public’s misunderstanding of their centuries old calendar. Despite the protests of many Mayan experts—as well as planetary evidence provided by NASA—many believed that the calendar predicted the world would end on 12.21.12. A variety of ways to spend the ‘end of days’ sprung up, including travel to Armageddon’s epicenter at Chichen Itza, and, if you could afford it, recklessly spending a fortune.

So when the opportunity arose to exploit the silliness of my fellow man my knowledge of the Mayans for Aria’s annual self-promotion, I jumped on it. Armed with a lactose-intolerant friendly recipe for Mayan chocolate truffles (bonus: coconut oil also has a two year shelf-life) and a healthy dose of wit, I artisaned up 27 gold-lined packages with 1/3lb chocolate each, every one worthy of a spot in a high-end boutique. Not only were the packages pretty, but the chocolate was delectable with just the right balance of spicy kick and dark chocolate goodness.

Delivered on 12.21.12,  two clients reached out to say how much they loved the packaging and that the chocolate was perfect. One client said he initially shared the chocolate with his coworkers but, when he realized how good it was, he hoarded the rest to himself. Seriously, it was that good.

The problem was, something went horribly wrong with the other packages along the way. And by horribly wrong I mean apocalyptically wrong…

It wasn’t until January 7 that I got an email from a client (who is also a friend) telling me that all of the chocolates arrived at his organization covered in mold. Thankfully no one got sick, but so much for coconut oil’s two year shelf-life!

To say I was humiliated would not be much of a stretch. Still, I recognized that this was an opportunity to practice what I preach by turning this catastrophe into a win. So I set to work making it right:

• To let everyone know that I was aware of the problem, I immediately sent out an email apologizing wholeheartedly to each person who had received a package, moldy or not.
• I told them I had no idea how this had happened, but that I was ultimately responsible.
• I committed to sending a replacement gift that was not chocolate within the next two weeks. By providing a timeline I both managed their expectations for resolution and allowed for the fact that our production schedule was already booked. Over promising at this point would have been a huge tactical error.
• And then I started thinking about ways to follow through which showcased our ability to be nimble in the face of crisis.

Some failures (Hurricane Katrina or the BP oil spill) demand a mea culpa and over the top response to repair damage. Others have their mea culpa cheapened if it is over-the-top (Kristen Stewart). Opting to go with sincerity, we kept the follow-up piece extremely simple, and leaned on one of the heaviest hitters out there for gift support: we developed a wrap for a Starbucks gift card.* And to ensure that the connection was made, we repurposed the illustration and font treatment from the holiday card, restating our apology in an earnest yet clever way.

For anyone who thinks that no response was required and that small businesses don’t need to concern themselves with brand promise, I point to this: These chocolates could have landed at least 100 people in the hospital. Even if it had been one person with “flu-like symptoms” for 48 hours, that would’ve been one too many.

Client response was overwhelmingly gracious and understanding, with one summing up the good feelings our reaction engendered: Nicely done.

Apocalypse avoided. Narrowly.

*Starbucks is in no way endorsing Aria Creative, LLC. However, we’re open to that conversation!

I recently mentioned this malaise to some friends and was surprised to find that not only was I not alone, but that what I had chosen to do in an effort to combat it wasn’t all that unique either. You’d think that tech savvy people proven to be “good at” social media would simply push through the blahs by doing even more social media on our own behalf. Instead, each of us has pared back our exposure in favor of interacting with potential clients in real time. I want to reiterate this: we look for ways to interact with potential clients in real time.

Each of us have done this in different ways: by joining weekly networking groups, by holding open houses, by sponsoring youth little leagues, and one brave soul by signing up to give a presentation at a regional seminar. What was surprising was that each of us has come to the same conclusion: interacting with people face-to-face gives you immediate returns, a sense of truer connection, and means that the person will be more likely to remember you and refer someone they know to you in the future.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Yes, but social media can also allow you to facilitate introductions and meetings with other people. You can also use it to publicly acknowledge a person/company and hopefully engender some good feelings in the public arena. When done well, social media is an awesome tool.

True, it is an awesome tool, but not the best tool when trying to expand your reach. The best tool is using your savvy to provide a crystal clear in-person experience of your company’s promise on a moment’s notice. And it doesn’t have to happen on the web or in a meeting—you can successfully reach people at any time!

A few weeks ago I was on the beltway driving back from a client meeting when my car started making strange sounds. A quick peek out the window told me I had a flat tire, which I wasn’t thrilled about changing. Even so, I got the car up on the jack…and then couldn’t loosen the lug nuts. Unable to find an available tow company or friend to assist me, I was stranded just as rush hour started. Instead of getting angry I counted my blessings: it was a lovely warm summer day and I had a little more than an hour until I absolutely had to be somewhere again. Things could be much, much worse.

Just as I was embracing the positive, a man on a motorcycle pulled up and motioned to the tire. I said that if he’d simply help me loosen the nuts I wouldn’t trouble him to do the rest. He shook his head, gruffly motioned me aside and then set to work.

I thanked him profusely and said I hoped I wasn’t making him late. His body language immediately shifted, and he looked up at me to say, “You’re not making me late for anything because I’m the one who decided to stop. So many people are too busy to stop and help another human being. Even if I had some place to be, I’d get there late and just deal with the fall out. Besides, I own a landscaping business and work very hard. Helping you here is a break for me.”

There I was, on the side of a busy highway, having the best brand experience I have ever had: I asked for the thing I thought I needed, but Kevin went above and beyond by changing the tire for me. He wasn’t trying to sell me on anything, he just wanted to help me out because he is a decent human being. He talked about how he’s seen other companies run their businesses, and how upsetting it is to see people taken advantage of so often. He was courteous, conscientious, and what’s more, his sincerity was genuine.

And yes, I am going to have him come take a look at my sad yard.

As recently as last summer, I would follow a single tweet down the rabbit hole of the web keen on learning as much as I could. I did this multiple times a day, losing countless hours reading things I might not have cared about but was compelled to consume because it was available to me. The web is a feast for those who are curious and I am a glutton. Ultimately, I felt as if I wasn’t learning or posting about that information fast enough, which caused increasing panic. After months of gorging myself on information and tweeting daily, I could no longer tell which tweets were integral to my business learning and which were not. What I read was no longer making its way from short- to long-term memory, rendering the hours long forays a true waste of time.

Ironically, I continued to manage social media for several clients, creating content and interacting with their audiences, and had no “side effects” while working on their outlets. I could follow links from their industry partners and competitors for an hour or two as well, but I never felt overwhelmed by it. It was just another part of the job in these cases. When I compared that to my response to using Twitter for my own business, I realized I needed a break to detox and process.

When I gave myself the time to view it objectively, I realized that I was ignoring key advice I give to clients: Don’t let your competitiveness get in the way of your message. There is no way to ‘win’ at social media, there is only the opportunity to share with those who might be interested in your products/services. What you share should either help them with their own business, teach them something, or give them insight into what your business process/thinking is. It’s ok to take a look at what the competition is doing, but don’t feel compelled to do what they are doing if it doesn’t fit your business’ personality or message.

Most importantly, behind every social media front are people and some of those people experience information overload. Give them some time to process what you’re offering them—and take the time to process information at your own speed as well.

While I can see many places where this is true (power hungry designers/webmasters circa 2000 seem to have disappeared), inwardly I find the importance placed on social media for this result laughable. Anyone who stumbled on fan fiction for Lord of the Rings in 2002 knows the writers were likely writing similar fiction about Dungeons and Dragons ten years before anyone heard of MySpace. Anyone who ever traded mixtapes knows that social media didn’t cause music sharing to happen—Napster and Spotify just made it easier. Anyone who went to a party at any point in the last 30 years where a favorite toy, hobby, or sports team was turned into the party’s theme—in a completely homemade manner, without the use of store bought party supplies—knows that social media was nowhere near this brand investment.

Actually, parties are an excellent place to see devotion to a brand. Take this third birthday party I recently did for my daughter based on her Ugly Doll, Ox (a blue Ox has been her woobie since she was 6 months old, and I have replaced his chewed off arms more times than I can count; we have two back up Oxen as well as a full size green Ox). Anyone who has thrown a themed party knows the planning can balloon out of control, and that there is a lot of experimenting to figure out how to make it look like the real X without actually being the real X. Sometimes a little bit of homemade-ness adds to the charm, sometimes it detracts; finding the right balance is key.

Obviously we wanted all of our guests to have a good time, but we focused our creative efforts on the three year olds by putting all decorations on their sight level, starting with Ox who welcomed them at the front door:

We continued the fun with wayfinding made of other Ugly Dolls, which started just inside the door and lead through the house to the two bathrooms and the party spaces.

We had hundreds of balloons and a stencil of Ox which everyone was encouraged to trace on their balloons of choice. Even the adults were giddy over them—it looked like a jellyfish hideout with all the strings hanging down.

And of course we had a ridiculous number of from-scratch home made cupcakes, slaved over by yours truly. Thanks to my husband’s sure hand for cutting out the Ox and Mr. Kasoogie cake toppers I’d “designed”.

We also made the birthday girl her own crown to wear while she blew out the candles:

One of my most inspired moments was the Pin-the-arm-on-the-Ox game. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go over with the three year olds, but everyone took a turn or two and laughed at where the arms ended up.

As the party wound down, we handed out favors. We started with 15 bags but we were so busy with the party that we forgot to stage and shoot them all beforehand. Inside each of these bags was an Ugly Doll, a bag of buddy food (that’s what my daughter calls jelly belly jelly beans) and a small set of watercolors to paint their new buddy, just like my daughter paints Ox.

The kids were giddy, many of the adults said it was the best kid’s party they’d ever been to, and my daughter was thrilled.

Before you go off thinking that I posted this to prove that I’m some kind of super mom, I assure you that I did not and am not. I posted it to make the following point: I would never in a million years go to extremes like this for something like Polly Pockets or Barbie. It’s because this is a brand that resonates with me, my husband, and my daughter that I (and my husband) put this much time and effort into the planning and execution. We love the Ugly Doll brand!

And we didn’t need social-media-influenced-”new”-branding-rules to encourage us to monkey with the UD brand to make it our own!

It finally occurred to me that sitting on a beach watching people walk by in all manner of get-ups offers some spectacular metaphors for branding.

If you really have ‘got it’, flaunt it.
I saw an attractive woman at the beach with a lovely God-given body (ie, no visible plastic surgeries or implants, which makes her 20x more attractive in my book) in a suit that was meant to show it off in a tasteful manner. The cut of it was perfect for her, no bulges or unsightly wardrobe malfunction potential anywhere to be seen. While she was the envy of every woman and the desire of every man, everything about her body language said that she was awkward in her own skin. After about a half hour on the beach, despite it being warm and her having no sign of a sunburn (and having shellacked her skin with sunscreen) she wrapped herself in a caftan and put on a large brimmed hat to sit under an umbrella. I watched other people to see what their reactions were, and from what I could tell, besides wondering what her story was, most people moved away from her.

Branding moral: You can be the best looking brand out there, but if you behave in a self-conscious manner, you’ll convince others that you’re not worth squat and will therefore be overlooked.

Transparency is good—unless it’s not.
Going to the beach and being comfortable in one’s skin is awesome, but going to the beach and making everyone around you uncomfortable because you are is definitely not. This may be a little sexist, but if a woman decides to go to a public beach in America and remove her top, it’s nothing more than a momentary shock. If a man decides to go to a public beach in America and remove his shorts, that’s TMI for most people. I’m all for letting it hang out at the beach, but I certainly don’t want to see that hanging out anywhere near my three-year-old daughter.

Branding moral: If there is something about your product/service that might make potential customers uncomfortable, find a way to present it that won’t leave them feeling like they need to shower afterwards.

Be consistent in how you package your brand.
The house we rented was in a fairly dense neighborhood, so I saw a lot of people on and off the beach through the course of a week. Some take the opportunity to let their hair down very, very seriously, and while I respect that this might be the only 7 days of the year in which this can happen, it can still be shocking. While Mr. Transparency (see above) definitely won the prize for lack of clothing, I still saw a lot of people, who off the beach (and I assume in regular life) dressed extremely conservatively, wearing suits that were wildly revealing. It wasn’t often that this was a good thing, either.

I’m not coming at this from a prototypical American beach wear Puritan perspective; I appreciate feeling the sun warming my lily white skin as much as the next person, and in no way set myself up as a paragon of beach babedom. However, I do try to find suits that at least somewhat match my offshore sensibilities. After all, what if I meet a Fortune 500 client on the beach and I’m wearing a Borat suit? Would they take me seriously as a brand professional? Only if they’re looking for a Borat on the Beach sequel, I suppose.

Branding moral: If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck. If it doesn’t do at least two of these, it could very well be a rhino.  

But what do you do if your audience doesn’t follow their own psycho/demographics when it comes to social media?

I have a client who specializes in candy for active women who range in age from nine to it’s-not-polite-to-ask, with special focus on the Millennial/Gen Y group (client’s specialty changed to protect the innocent). When I first began working with her, she warned me that her customer was not active in social media. Knowing that Gen Y is supposed to be the most social media savvy and connected audience, I thought she was being naive. In general, if Gen Y sees something they don’t like, they go online to begin to affect change for the better. Further, because her audience is also female, if they have a product complaint, they think nothing of sharing that with everyone within their circle of influence—often being recompensed for their trouble by the brands themselves.

That’s the general consensus of how they’re supposed to act; that is not how my client’s audience behaves.

Over the past year of working with her, I have learned that her audience is indeed extremely involved in social media, tweeting constantly, seemingly not caring where it lands, or even if it does. I have also learned that they are extraordinarily wary of being approached by brands, to the point of mocking me when I do so on her behalf.

For instance, I overheard a twitversation wherein two girls discussed the poor performance of a product one had purchased from my client. When the buyer (let’s call her Sam) balked at having to get her mother to drive her to the store to return the product, I engaged her in a twitversation, resulting in a rather unorthodox solution (you’ll have to trust me on this one). All went silent for a few days, but as I was curious to see if Sam’s problem was gone, I went back to her stream. Imagine my shock when I discovered that Sam and the same friend were discussing how they’d been ‘stalked’ by my client’s brand, and that they were going to block it.

Fearing for my client’s brand reputation, I contacted her and shared what I’d discovered. She stoically pointed out that she’d forewarned me that her audience was quirky. A few days later she contacted me to let me know that she’d arranged with a different manufacturer to have a competing product sent to Sam for free. I sent Sam a direct message letting her know the news and waited for her to reply with her shipping address. Curious, again I checked her stream to find that she was indeed tweeting up a storm, she just wasn’t responding to me. Eventually she did, and I shared the address with my client, who told me that the manufacturer was actually going to send two of the product, one in a color of Sam’s choice and one for her friends to try out. I, in turn, sent this info back to Sam.

And received no reply.

Two weeks later, when I checked back in with Sam to find out if she’d received the product, she tells me she’d not. Trying to prevent another badmouthing session, I advised my client. Within seconds, the new manufacturer’s social media rep contacts me and says that she contacted Sam two weeks prior (the same day I gave my client all of Sam’s information!) but that Sam had never responded. As it is It is the manufacturer’s policy not to send anything until they’ve made ‘contact’ with someone, the social media rep’s hands were tied.

Because Sam refuses to respond to the manufacturer, she is not going to receive two FREE products. So much for Gen Y being social media savvy!

If you have any similar anecdotes you’d like to share, or have any information on what might be happening with this group of young women, my client and I are eager to hear it!

I first wondered this when I was at a networking event a few weeks ago. The people in my little group were intelligent business owners who seemed to have a firmer grasp than usual of what branding means in today’s market. A retailer, whose store I had been to before, complained that she was losing traction with her customers because a competitor—another small business—had opened up nearby. When she asked me why I thought this might be, I explained that without doing marketing analysis I couldn’t provide a definitive answer. I did offer, completely off the cuff, that her competitor’s environmental branding was certainly compelling.

“Well, I have my logo in my store space, too.”

I provided a cursory explanation of how environmental branding was a bit more than that. To make the explanation less personal, I used ubiquitous examples such as McDonald’s and Target. I could tell she still wasn’t understanding how these companies had relied on their environments so heavily to drive business, primarily because she wasn’t able to see how each franchise and each store had the same universal look and messaging.

Changing tacks, I offered the example of a recently opened Mountain Dew skate park. Its visitors got more than just environmental branding; they got an experience. I then asked her if she’d visited the competitor’s store and, if so, what did it make her feel. She said (begrudgingly) that going in the store felt like being on vacation. I pointed out that her competitor’s logo doesn’t appear anywhere inside the store except on business cards placed at the point-of-purchase, and that the sense of ‘vacation’ was created by the store’s environment. Bringing it home, I asked, “The environment is an extremely compelling call to action for its visitors: 1) Who doesn’t like to go on vacation? This sensation will keep customers returning to the store and 2) Who doesn’t spend money more freely when they’re on vacation?” BAM; environmental branding therapy session, concluded.

The second time I thought I’d gotten too tipsy on the design drink was last week. I was having a conversation about the potential benefits of extending a company’s current branding through their corporate space. Benefits such as increased employee productivity and pride, as well as a more intimate brand experience for office visitors and potential vendors and partners.

“We don’t have the money and we’re not interested in that. We just want some art.”

I explained that what I was suggesting was not a complete overhaul of the office space, merely that they should consider how their messaging could potentially be perceived by visitors if they slapped something up that didn’t jibe with the rest of their brand message. It is possible to create environmental branding on a shoestring budget; just like with print, sometimes the best solutions are those created within tight budget parameters—you just need to be open to the opportunity.

These conversations point out that while we live in an increasingly design/branding savvy culture, many small to medium sized businesses still aren’t seeing the value in environmental branding. Sometimes this is because they don’t understand what environmental branding (or experiential branding as it’s increasingly known) means. I have found that sharing visual examples helps them free their minds. The following are just a few of my current favorites.

Images of studio reactiv’s office from Contract, environmental branding by LUX Designs

Images of Change to Win’s office via the firm who did the spectacular branding, Design Citizens

Images and text for the above images of BBC Worldwide’s Australian offices from Design Home. Experience design by thoughtspace.

“Towards the eastern façade, BBC Worldwide’s own Doctor Who Daleks lurk. Adjacent to original 1960 Dalek is a ‘not so typical’ six person meeting room [1]. Together with unique acoustic wall tiles, the distinctive aluminum ceiling and studded rubber flooring the room oozes style reminiscent of the admired TV hit series of Doctor Who. BBC Top Gear [2] is also a feature in the viewing studio where screening of promos takes place. A sweeping full height acoustic fabric wall printed with the striking ‘Stig’ creates the impressive backdrop to the surround sound studio.

Towards the middle of the floor the UKTV meeting booth nestles [3]. The Banksy inspired graphics create an urban experience together with the studded ‘booth’ seats commonly used for informal meetings or alternative work environments. The BBC Knowledge meeting room [4] offers an insight into this unique BBC concept. Interactivity and learning through life’s experiences is the focus of this themed zone.

Dancing with the Stars [5] is also captured by the elegance of the small meeting room adjacent to the reception foyer. The graceful translucent chairs accompany the heavily turned black lacquered table which sits superbly on the eye catching plush silk/wool rug. Ball bearing curtains sway in front of the full length mirrored walls to create the illusion of ‘sparkle.’ Finally, the lift enclosure is wrapped by the intensely colored master brand graphic that leads you through to reception celebrating the prominent brands. BBC Worldwide focused on the indigenous motif to link the brands and create a uniquely Australian experience.”

So, to get back to showcasing my creativity endeavors, I’m going to list them here. Sadly, no photos, so that’s something I will amend for the next 66% of the month.

June 1: Posted to the blog

June 2: Lavender & Lemon souffle; sometimes two powerful exotic foodstuffs go together well. Not true with daikons and durian (forget not trying it at home, don’t try this anywhere).

June 3: Sat on a friend’s porch, drank red wine, discussed theology, and learned that British men, when cyclists they have just struck wind up on the hoods of their cars, will throw punches which look like cats abusing a scratching post.

June 4: Took a nap. Seriously, the next time you get stumped on a project, a good nap just might shake something loose for you. It did me.

June 5: Built the bones of a rock garden.

June 6: Created some kick ass labels for a boutique bakery.

June 7: Participated in some much needed retail therapy.

June 8: Made kool-aid playdough. The recipe needs some work but the journey was the thing.

June 9: Drove to the city from a completely foreign direction with no map or directions. Exhilarating!

June 10: Answered Gwen Bell’s request for a follow-up to potentially use in her new Fucking Fierce offering.

Narrowing down what she did for me during our 101 last year into a few sentences was almost impossible. In looking at it afterwards, it made me realize that I didn’t make a big enough hoo-ha of what brought me into the world of design blogging, and ultimately what spurred on the entire Aria rebrand. I aim to change that right now by sharing with you what I sent her mere moments ago:

“When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” While a pro pos for working with you, it still doesn’t address the Gwen Bell slow-release time bomb!

The immediate returns of our collaboration were great, but the real value came with the after effects: I realized that my business and my personality were walled off from one another such that I wasn’t being as authentic as I wanted to be. As hard as it was to do it, pushing through that was invaluable. I’m happier, my clients seem to get (and appreciate) me, and my creativity is blossoming. Now I just get to be me—and that’s such a relief.

What I didn’t include, and probably should’ve, is that relief means I can concentrate more clearly on my clients’ work.

The irony that I help businesses find their voice and yet wasn’t fully connected to my own is not lost on me. Where Aria acts a conduit for change with others, I wasn’t allowing myself that same opportunity or flexibility. Working with Gwen made me realize that I need to trust who I am, and if that’s a hillbilly hootenanny that’s ok.

Making the jump to the new web design, getting new head shots, putting myself “out there” in front of my business—and my life—was more terrifying than sky diving ever was. But I can’t recommend it enough to those willing to do the work.

Do it.

If you found the original and replacement pyramids equally confusing, so did everyone else.

So what did the USDA do? Reload!

At least now we’re headed in the correct direction, since the portions are shown somewhat to scale vs hierarchical. While I understand the decision against using a true pie graph—this is promoting healthier eating after all—I doubt everyone is going to purchase plates with these arbitrary divisions (although there are some preprinted ones already out there). So is this really going to make a difference in the average American’s diet?

So far, everything I have seen boils down to what this commenter on WSJ had to say:

Joe D wrote: The problem is not that the pyramid is too confusing (is our society really that unintelligent that we need to dumb down a picture of a pyramid?), it is that most people don’t care. A picture of a plate versus a pyramid is not going to get people to stop eating the crap from fast food restaurants. People today, for the same reason most don’t get enough exercise, look for the options with minimal effort. Eating healthy requires more work than swinging through the drive through on your way home or ordering delivery. If people don’t care about their body, then changing a diagram isn’t going to do anything about that.

Which brings me to a key point as it relates to branding: Too often people look to icons to motivate, when really they aren’t there to sell a product, service, or even a lifestyle—they’re just there to convey information. The only people who will be affected by this icon change are those who were already interested—nutritionists, therapists, trainers, and those who want to achieve/maintain a healthy diet—because it begins to address the previously confusing elements of the USDA’s campaign.