Today, we are all romantic consumers. Think about it: does anyone ever confess to being a shallow materialist? Of course not. As the advertising critic James Twitchell puts it, the problem is that we are not materialistic enough. If we truly were materialists, branding and lifestyle advertising would not work. We would buy things because of their material properties, based on a cold-blooded consideration of whether they offered quality and value for the money. But that isn't how we shop. Instead, when we hit the stores we are seduced by the halo of meanings that shroud every product: Nike is not selling shoes, it is selling personal achievement, Apple is not selling music players, it is selling rebellious freedom, and Starbucks isn't selling coffee, it is selling bohemian virtue. In a more seasonal vein, note that a set of four St. Nick napkins from Williams-Sonoma will set you back $50 not because they are woven on a 19th-century Jacquard loom, but because they evoke the simple authenticity of Christmases past.We pay a lot for things because they offer us a story of how they're valuable, when in reality, they're just commodities. Seth Godin, the marketing guru, writes a lot about this. Just think how we feel when we hear the brands Sony, Bentley, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Rolex, etc. We'd lose the romance we have with these brands if we compared the nuts-and-bolts of how they're made with those of generic brands. Unless we know that the products offered are genuine (that even without their brand name, they offer value equivalent for their high price), we should avoid these. They are high-markup traps.
Instead, we should reveal the story around the things we already have or things of low cost but high quality. The story we create can be highly personal and should be true. "The resume that got me my first job was printed on this printer," "The last photograph my grandfather took was using this camera."
More easily, we can reveal a complex story by simply taking a closer look at the things we already have. Ttake a look at our watch, if we're wearing one. Even if we didn't pay a lot for it, we know that someone had to design it, patent it, determine how it'd be manufactured, procure the components for it, and assemble it. Each person who touched it had dreams and aspirations and families. Each one had a desire to make their mark on the world.
Everything we have has a story. If we reveal this story, the thing it's attached to has increased in value.
