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March
2006
As a kid, I was
mortified of taking my shirt off. It's funny to reflect on
and it's certainly no big deal to me now, but at the tender
age of nine taking off my shirt in any public or semi-public
area was more than a little anxiety inducing. That's why I
did not greet my family's first trip to the ocean with much
enthusiasm. Actually, I was quite the opposite of excited
about the venture.
As we were five miles from our sandy
destination, I complained to Mom about a stomachache. I
tried to sell her on the dangers of swimming with an ailing
tummy, but Mom wasn’t buying. She knew her son all too well!
At the one mile marker, I began to explain that I might
swallow a guppy and should probably stay nestled safely
ashore. Mom assured me that the fishes would be safe and so
would I. Sharks…jellyfish…killer whales…Mom shot down each
sea-faring objection. My last hope was the miraculous
emergence of a rain cloud. To the north…sun; east…sun;
west…sun; south…you guessed it…sun. The only thing more
omnipresent than that blasted orange sphere was my anxiety!
Finally,
we arrived at a busy North Carolina beach on what could only
be considered (unfortunately) a perfect, bright and sunny
day. The moment of truth had arrived. It was time for the
shirt to come off and for me to take my new swimming trunks
to sea. The beach seemed to come to a complete halt as I
began to peel off my shirt. As seemingly everyone looked
on…especially those female cousins of mine…I worked up
enough courage to completely remove my shirt. I stood there
nervously in my bright and glowing flesh-toned t-shirt, also
known as my bare chest. My tanned arms only accentuated my
lily-white torso. I then made a mad dash to the ocean. As
the first wave hit me, my fear began to subside. This wasn’t
so bad. Actually, battling the waves was pretty fun. The
second wave crashed against me and I was really starting to
loosen up. After all, nearly every other person on this
beach was in the same condition. I was going to be OK.
Actually, by the time that third wave hit me, I had
forgotten completely about my bare chest. Then it happened.
Sometime between that second and third wave another problem
developed. I realized that one of those waves had managed to
strip my swimming trunks completely off me. That’s right; I
was butt naked amidst a jam-packed beach! My trunks were
nowhere in sight. Suddenly, my bare chest was no longer a
concern. My bare butt, however, was! It was a scarring
moment that could have branded me for the rest of my life.
Actually, it did
brand me. However, instead of a brand identity centered on
embarrassment (or is that in-bare-ass-ment?), I chose to
take the incident to further my role as the little
goofball who was more than willing to do anything for a
laugh. The distinction was solely up to me. Those who know
me well would say this has changed little in the twenty plus
years that followed; although trips to the beach now involve
suspenders attached snugly to my swimming trunks.
The point is simple.
The brand identity that you want to establish for your
company is squarely upon your shoulders. You are the brand's
identity. You live and breathe the brand with every customer
interaction, with each comes an opportunity to enhance the
customer-company relationship or detract from it.
Sometimes you are
too close to the situation to uncover your brand identity.
You may have utopian ideas that may or may not be true
measures of reality. That's where BrandVision comes in. The
first step in our brand-building process is called BRANDFocus.
It helps determine a profitable direction for your brand to
grow. Ahh, but that's next month. Until then, remember, you
determine your company's brand identity and you do it with
every interaction. Just hope it doesn't a pair of swimming
trunks floating out to sea while you're left trying to put a
positive spin on an in-bare-ass-ing situation!
Next month:
BrandFocus...uncovering your brand identity.
© All Rights Reserved.
Matthew Scott Trueblood and BrandVision Marketing. Adapted
from "Mailboxes, Chiggers and Waist Deep Waters" 2006.
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