Before I started writing monthly newsletters four years ago, I wrote restaurant reviews. Just one or two a year for Zagat’s Boston Restaurant Guide. One contributed review was enough to score me a free copy of the next guide release and seemed well worth the effort.
When Zagat first launched its guide in the early 1980s it was unique. It provided succinct reviews and ratings from patrons instead of critics. This was revolutionary in the 1980s.
Like many new products, the Zagat guide emerged from the recognition of an unmet market need.
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Has your brand hit a plateau? Or is it growing erratically? Does fostering growth seem harder than it should be?
Here are 5 common mistakes that could be holding your brand back.
- No clear brand definition.
Can you explain your brand clearly and concisely to a prospect? If you struggle with its description, chances are you haven’t taken the time to define your brand.
Image source: http://www.buzzfeed.com/sarag17/the-best-and-worst-tvmovie-makeovers-7gd5
This past March marked the 30th anniversary of the movie The Breakfast Club.
For those of you who might not know it, the movie portrays the gathering of five stereotypical high schoolers (a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal) for a day-long detention on a Saturday. Over the course of the day, social barriers recede. The teenagers share insights that both explain their stereotypes and undermine them at the same time.
The movie struck a chord with adolescents everywhere when it was released, and continues to engage succeeding generations. My husband and I watched it with our teenagers a couple of years ago.
To say that I was a curious child is an understatement. I asked questions relentlessly. I was always trying to figure out how things worked and to understand why people did what they did. My parents patiently answered my questions, probably hoping I would outgrow the phase.
It never happened.
I love to write. I’ve been writing since I was 15 years old. I owe my discovery of this passion to my brother Ken. (Thank you Ken!!)
Ken is nearly six years younger than I am. When he was nine years old, he gave me a small journal for Hanukkah. It was about five by four inches and had a gold and white cover. I was so charmed that he would spend some of his allowance to buy me a gift – we didn’t usually exchange among siblings at that point.
When I moved up to Boston after college, I knew few people in the area. I found my roommate Judy through a service called the Roommate Connection. Luckily she and I became fast friends and she kindly took me to parties that her friends threw. Occasionally I met someone at a party that would lead to a first date.
One first date that sticks out in my memory went downhill faster than an Olympic skier.
His name was Joe and he was a PhD candidate at Harvard. Not a medical doctor, but an eventual doctor from Harvard nonetheless. So far my grandmothers would have had thumbs up.
We went to a casual restaurant and ordered our meals. And then Joe began to talk.
I’ve had a love-hate relationship with my name during the course of my life. Or I should say hate-love. The dislike came first.
In elementary school, I was the only Evelyn. Not just in my class or in my grade. But in the whole school.
No one that age wants to stick out. I would have given my eye teeth to be the fifth Carolyn in my grade instead of the one Evelyn. (I didn’t love my teeth either pre-braces.)
“I don’t think I want to shop there anymore,” said my 13-year-old daughter Fiona three weeks ago after learning of Abercrombie & Fitch’s latest offense. This time, their target was one of her favorite singers, Taylor Swift.
In case you haven’t heard, Abercrombie was selling a t-shirt that said “# more boyfriends than t.s.”. Teens knew the reference to Taylor Swift immediately. And Taylor’s fans – “Swifties” – were not amused.
Over the past month college graduations have been occurring all over the country, launching legions of 22-year-old adolescents into their future.
That’s right. Adolescents. Just because there isn’t a –teen at the end of 22 doesn’t mean that these kids are adults yet.
Ask any parent whose college graduate has moved back home.