*City of Superlatives. Anything that projects grandeur or largesse beyond one’s imagination sounds better in french. Hudson Yards is a good example. And this project is more than just another set of very tall buildings.
My sole photo doesn’t begin to tout the scale of the real estate involved. Heading west from 10th Avenue to 12th and south from West 34th to West 30th lies the acreage that holds the largest private, real-estate construction project in the USA.
The Big Apple is about to get much bigger on so many levels, but don’t take my word on it.
In a short period of time, a tsunami of products and services have overwhelmed our values to such a point that we’ve conditioned ourselves to expect the next version of something, to be better than the one we already have. But we’re not any happier or better in our day-to-day lives. Not all consumers consume as such. There is a distinction between a collector and an accumulator.
The sheer number of branded products vying for our attention—and our money—is beyond words. Our attention spans are already fractured from our immersion in diversions and distractions. Is it any wonder that marketers are looking for that strategy which helps their brands to stand out, to be readily noticed and purchased, to be the “next best thing?”
So, how do we optimize the value of our brands, which by the way, also includes our personal brand?
During my walkabout with camera in hand, I noticed in a meadow a particular detail that stood out: specs of white in an expanse of green, brown and yellow. If the meadow is a designated market area [DMA], the flora its products and services, then it’s easy to recognize the stand out among all the offerings. The simple, white flowers.
These flowers lack the colorful palette of warm yellows, reds and oranges, which is precisely the point. One color, was enough to make our “product” stand out from the rest of the other flowering plants. If we are to champion some level of emotional ownership for a brand, more is often not always better. In fact, the challenge becomes finding the single most relevant, genuine quality that deserves attention. That quality is a narrative that needs to be told.
That quality doesn’t need to be original [nothing is anymore, really], but must be genuine. The quality is accessible, identifiable, perhaps even an antidote to the distractions that contribute to our sensory overload. Marketing minimalism is the distillation of that particular quality that allows the brand to stand out. In this day and age of “reality-this-or-that,” there is a hunger for something far more genuine, more real, more tangible that removes us from our penchant to consume or accumulate things.
It hasn’t been a banner year for New England foliage this Autumn. Still, there are places, however few, where Mother Nature offers a splash of color. Just be in the moment and patiently see…not just look.
The renowned publisher Conde Nast has 22 brands, last I checked. Four readily come to mind: Vogue; GQ; Conde Nast Traveler and Vanity Fair. In the context of this post, those 4 magazines have been founts of creative thinking for my marketing side, editorially and commercially.
So, I took creative license to offer an ambiance of levity, a lack of seriousness if you will, because I wanted to share a distraction far from the banal and divisive intrusions that dilute attributes of hope, faith, tolerance, civility and last but not least—love.