The same but different

Last Thursday, I received two emails from Shop Direct Group, the parent company of Empire Stores and Littlewoods. The emails had an almost identical subject line: “NEWSFLASH! £15 off your first order + new arrivals”. The only difference was that Littlewoods called its new arrivals “hot”.

Recycling the headline is rather lazy from Shop Direct, which surely could have come up with two separate subject lines (unless all its brands went with this offensive to see which of them had the biggest response). What’s more, Empire Stores had tried the previous week to tempt us with “£15 off your first order + our new season collection”, further showing a relaxed attitude to email-subject-line brainstorming.

Back to the emails at hand though—what, aside from the subject line, do these emails have in common?

Where’s the deal?
Both emails dive straight in, displaying the offer above the fold. In a move I presume saves on back-end administration, both brands use the same offer code. I would have thought a slightly different code for each brand would better aid tracking—especially as codes so quickly end up online on websites like myvouchercodes.co.uk where they are used by non-email recipients and lose all connection to the original marketing channel.

The emails then lead into the second part of the subject line: the new collections. However, where Littlewoods (below) displays a selection of new arrivals, Empire Stores (above) devotes the space to a message that harks back to its agency catalogue days and reiterates its “buy now, pay later” terms. The Littlewoods’ range is also more expensive—a Diesel dress for £170, a South sequin jacket for £69. The most expensive item in the Empire Stores email is a jacket that costs £79.

Twiggy vs Coleen
There is a clear age divide in these emails too. Empire Stores is obviously targeting a more mature market—for a start, the outfits promoted are not as figure-hugging or skimpy as the Littlewoods new arrivals. Second, Empire Stores is using 60s model Twiggy as its face, compared with Littlewoods’ use of top WAG Colleen Rooney as its “style editor”. Another indication that Empire Stores is targeting an older demographic is the reinforcement that larger sizes are available and the copy’s emphasis on comfort, rather than trendiness.

In the jeans
Both emails also feature a Denim Store section. In the Littlewoods email, the item is illustrated by a graphic—no product pictures—and the copy: “Women’s Jeans 100s of styles from classic to big brands, from all the latest fits: skinny, bootcut and more”. The Empire Stores email has an expanded Denim Store section that features three pairs of jeans next to their price per week: “So Fabulous Distresses Tapered Jeans £30 or £1.50 per week.” The main copy for the Denim Store also highlights “great value” and the availability of plus-sizes.

Despite these emails having twin subject lines and a similar layout, Shop Direct has set out clear brand guidelines, based on age, size and financial status. We previously blogged about Shop Direct supporting two separate, but nearly identical, brands. It seems that this time round it’s had a rethink and set its brands apart.--MT

As an aside, I noticed a technical difference too. Littlewoods had a "click here to view the email in a browser" link, whereas Empire Stores didn't. The reason why is something I cannot work out.

Mighty odd merchandising choice

I just received a press release from High & Mighty on the launch of its new website. As well as the usual “we’ve made it easier to shop” and “we aim to offer advice, style tips and a discussion forum”, High & Mighty has also announced it was selling home and electrical goods online.

Yes, it’s part of the N Brown stable--which through its myriad titles (just take a look at www.homeshoppingdirect.com) sells apparel, homewares, consumer electronics, white goods, and lots more--but seriously, is this the right move for High & Mighty?

The decision to sell electrical goods strikes me as a bit of a disconnect; the release says High & Mighty wants to be a “one-stop lifestyle channel for online shopping”—but why? For what it’s worth, I believe High & Mighty would be better off concentrating on getting deeper into its niche. Its database includes big and tall men that find it difficult to find clothes that fit on the high street, so why dilute the brand by adding fragrance and shaving products that can be bought in almost every other shop?

I once asked this question of consultant Meg Macmillan and she told me that “The most successful ventures have been those that built on existing core strengths of the brand, building on customer confidence in quality and value and offering products that were a natural progression and held true to the brand values.” I don’t see how High & Mighty selling plasma TVs fits into this (unless, as my colleague points out, it was a TV on a very tall stand!).

With Figleaves to become the latest brand to join the N Brown stable, does this mean we will see it selling fridges alongside knickers?--MT

Careless emails cost customers

We can all agree that email is a powerful sales tool, and a primary means for direct sellers to contact their customers. So when email goes wrong, it can have a big impact on the sender. Not least in lost sales, but also brand damage.

Just last week, I was contacted by a reader--let’s call him Mr C. Mr C had received an email from a children’s furniture cataloguer/etailer promising 20 percent off selected items in the new spring range. The well laid-out and colourful email highlighted a number of items in the main body copy. Mr C therefore assumed, as I’m sure we all would, that all the products featured in the email would be eligible for the discount. They weren’t. Three out of the nine products featured in the email were excluded from the promotion, making Mr C a very frustrated shopper. He took the view that the email was trying to “manipulate the trust of a customer”, and said he had no faith in the brand any more. Did it lose the sale? Yes.

I had a similar experience this weekend. I received an email from an etailer with a sale on wallets. Feeling tempted by a half-price offer I clicked through to the page and tried to add the wallet to my basket. Despite the website telling me that the item was in stock, my basket remained empty. I tried adding other items and coming back to the wallet, but to no avail. This company did not want to part with its wallet. Did it lose the sale? Yes. Did someone else get the sale? Yes.

Unlike Mr C though, my experience hasn’t put me off the wallet company altogether. Maybe I am more forgiving. Or maybe it’s because the items he was shopping for were pricey exclusive designs, whereas my same wallet could be found just a click away—albeit at full price. Would either of us shop at those companies again? Possibly, but it won’t be our first port of call.
I wouldn't go as far as saying these email blunders delivered killer blows to the brand, but they certainly dented confidence.—MT

The cute war

This weekend I received the debut catalogue from The Allotment Shop, which sells retro-inspired gardening tools and home accessories. The creative really hews to its theme of War War II nostalgia, with spreads labelled “Digging for Victory” and “On the Home Front” and “We’ll Meet Again”, and there’s a standalone flyer inside designed to look like a ration book.

The merchandise itself, while seemingly of top quality, is not unique. The canisters, for instance, would fit right in with a Pedlars catalogue; Wiggly Wigglers carries similar bird boxes. What really ties everything together and makes The Allotment Shop a distinctive brand is its theme: the best of British, inspired by Britain’s shining moment, when it kept its upper lip stiff and showed the Jerries what they were made of.

This theme is in keeping with the current “make do and mend” zeitgeist, though with some of its offering (the replication ID cards, the seed packages made to resemble ration cards) and creative (the models made up and posed to resemble ‘40s pin-up girls), The Allotment Shop catalogue and website are more blatant than most.

Now, maybe this is because I’m not a Brit, or maybe it’s because I just read a novel about the siege of Leningrad (City of Thieves, by David Benioff, which I cannot recommend enough--buy or borrow it asap). But glamourising what was a horrific war in order to sell upscale versions of everyday items (is spending £18.95 for a cute metal box to hold your seed packets really in keeping with an era of austerity?) seems a little tacky to me. Wouldn’t it be more of a tribute to our parents and grandparents who endured the Blitz and evacuation and D-Day, and more in keeping with their own no-nonsense spirit, to store our seeds in a shoebox that we would otherwise throw away?

It’s apparent, and ironic, that The Allotment Shop makes no effort to target older consumers. The T&C copy on the back of the print catalogue, for example, is printed in what must be seven-point type, if that big. Which is just as well. I’m sure my grandparents would have rolled their eyes and snorted if they’d lived long enough to see the deprivations they lived through dressed up so adorably.--SC

Dilution = death

The news that Stateside cataloguer/retailer Eddie Bauer had filed for bankruptcy protection wasn't much of a surprise. What did surprise, however, is that according to the Wall Street Journal, it had sales of roughly $1 billion last year. That means an awful lot of people must like what Bauer stands for. For my part, I'm not sure what that is.

When outdoors enthusiast Eddie Bauer founded the company in 1920, it was as a sporting-goods shop. According to the company website, Mr Bauer patented the regulation badminton shuttlecock still in use today and the first quilted goose-down jacket in North America. So clearly the brand has plenty of outdoor cred.

But somewhere along the way the company branched out into selling casual apparel for both men and women, then workplace-suitable fashion. It even brought out a range of home furnishings and soft goods. Quite what Egyptian-cotton towels had to do with fly-fishing and camping in the Cascade Mountains is beyond me.

As Bauer extended its range, it also diluted its brand. Maybe the company founder had invented the goose-down jacket--but if you were a hunter, say, looking for a heavy-duty version, you were just as likely to buy one from L.L. Bean or Orvis or REI. If, on the other hand, you wanted a pair of comfy chinos or an unflashy polo shirt, you were just as likely to buy it from Lands' End or Gap. And if you wanted towels--hell, I don't know why anyone would buy towels from Eddie Bauer.

Each of the other brands I listed had a distinctive unique selling proposition. L.L. Bean: hard-nosed Yankee (as in New England rather than American) integrity, resulting in unparalleled quality and a legendary guarantee. Orvis: outdoor gear produced by outdoor enthusiasts for outdoor enthusiasts. REI: activewear for younger, eco-friendly outdoor lovers. You get the point.

But Eddie Bauer stood for... um, yeah, the quality was good, I guess, but not the stuff of legend like Bean's duck shoes. The service was fine, but not as remarkably accommodating as that of Lands' End. Bauer had become an also-ran.

During the past few years Bauer's latest CEO, Neil Fiske, made great strides in trying to return the brand to its outdoorsy roots. The company launched a range of heavy-duty winter outerwear and, to prove the hardiness of the line, sponsored an expedition to Mount Everest. Yet the home page of EddieBauer.com gives no indication of this, or at least not above the fold. Instead you see a sale promotion, a photo of a generic ocean, and alternating shots of a man and a woman donning rather bland casualwear.

The problem isn't that Bauer has been resting on its venerable laurels. Rather, it's that the company hasn't made enough of its laurels, nor has it decided what to rest upon instead.--SC

A fascia too far?

While leafing through my Empire Stores spring/summer catalogue last night, I felt a sense of deja vu. When I got to the office this morning and saw the spring/summer Great Universal catalogue on my desk, I realised why. Except for the front cover and opening spread, they're the exact same book, with the exact same credit offer. Likewise, so far as I can tell, the websites are the same. Only the phone numbers and the URLs differ.

Of course, both brands are owned by Shop Direct, the parent company of Littlewoods. Empire was acquired last year; Great Universal in 2004. But why should both brands have virtually the same 1,126-page catalogue? Or perhaps the better question is, Why should Shop Direct support two separate, but nearly identical, brands? Why not migrate both brands to the Littlewoods fascia?

I can understand that Shop Direct might be afraid of eroding hard-won brand loyalty. But consumers aren't stupid; if executed thoughtfully and thoroughly, transitioning "Great Universal" and "Empire" to "Littlewoods" shouldn't cost the company many, if any, of its good customers. And by consolidating its brands, Shop Direct could get maximum bang for its advertising buck when promoting Littlewoods on TV and elsewhere. I'd imagine it could save money on the back end as well.

In today's Independent, Robin Knight of restructuring firm Zolfo Cooper is quoted as saying, "There will undoubtedly be a further flurry of collapses in the retail sector because retail is still heavily oversubscribed–there are too many fascias, stores, and too much space." It seems that even within Shop Direct there may be too many fascias–unless any of you out there can convince me otherwise.–SC