How shiny is your brand?
How often do you check on it to make sure it’s looking its best?
Monthly? Weekly? Daily?
I’m asking this because on a Friday afternoon not so long ago, when we were both off work for one reason or another, my wife and I had lunch in a fancy pants local restaurant, one that’s traded on its reputation for excellence for as long as I’ve lived in this area.
The eatery in question is in an upscale strip mall in what is arguably one of the most upscale neighbourhoods and one of the most sought after ZIP codes in the area—average home value north of $3 million.
It’s a niche, theme restaurant; the kind of place where wealthy—and that’s wealthy, [old money], not rich—wealthy ladies who lunch go to see and be seen.
This is not a $7 burger joint.
It’s known for being “posh”.
Or at least, that’s how it’s perceived and how it’s positioned itself in the local psyche for as long as I’ve lived around here (24 years).
I vaguely recall being under impressed the last time I ate there eight years ago. Since then, nothing’s improved. Although it was a nice change and the food was OK, sadly, I left feeling a little underwhelmed, a little let down.
For a start, the entrance way was cluttered and a little ramshackle—on the way out I noticed a sticker on the door extolling their ratings in a well known food magazine from 2013.
Er? OK.
Although we were seated promptly and politely, which was nice, the table we were shown to looked like it needed a good wipe down.
My black linen napkin had a few stains on it—stains that given this place’s reputation, shouldn’t have been there.
While the waiter was pleasant enough, and again, given the reputation of the place as being the place to be seen, I was a little surprised to notice that his shirt and pants weren’t as clean as they could have been.
I get that waiting on tables can often lead to spills and stains, but still. Looks matter.
The service was—well—OK, but the dining room looked as if it was in need of some TLC.
The chair at the next table looked dinged and well worn. Some of the fabric on an upholstered chair across from our table next to a fireplace was visibly torn and hanging a little loose.
All little things I’m sure, though to me, they were a distraction. The food was OK. The bill was a little steep ($53 for lunch, including a 20% tip), but then, it’s a posh place, right?
Wrong.
If you’re going to charge premium prices, put in the effort and give a premium experience.
I thought it might just be me being cranky, so I searched for online reviews of the place and, surprise, surprise—I was not alone in my thinking. Reviews on TripAdvisor and Yelp! were mixed—some people loved the place, others, like me, were less than impressed. So again: if you’re going to charge premium prices, put in the effort and give a premium experience.
If you’re in the food services niche, your brand needs constant attention. Sorry, not sorry. Heck, whatever niche you’re in, your brand needs a steady hand on its helm and a calm eye over its daily rollout.
Branding matters. First and lasting impressions. Lingering memories MATTER, these things MAKE A DIFFERENCE! Don’t, and I really cannot stress this point enough, DO NOT screw this up!
For me, this particular visit to this specific eatery made enough of an impression for me to be writing this article.
As I mentioned earlier, I last ate there eight years ago. I won’t be breaking my neck to return any time soon.
I know, all little annoyances that probably only bothered me. That said, over time, and with enough repetition, little annoyances like this wind up hurting brands in a death by a thousand cuts kind of way, and ultimately, it’s those kinds of cuts that wind up closing businesses for good.
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