WE QUEUE. DO YOU?

Darn:  Got in the wrong check-out line!

If you’re like us, chances are you’ve got a litany of to-dos (or not) when trying to cash out at a store.  Look for female cashiers.  Get behind those with less than half-full carts.  Avoid shoppers with kids.  Re-jigger the number of items to qualify for the Express Lane.

Do these strategies work?  Not always.  So it should come as no surprise that brick-and-mortar retailers have made this a science, beginning with Little’s Law (calculating the wait of a particular line) and, perhaps, concluding with PayPal’s latest product, Beacon, recognizing your smartphone the minute you enter a store.

[Okay, we do shop online.  But, somehow, Peapod just doesn’t get our produce right.]

Our point is the waiting.  Once you hit three minutes, experts tell us, the perception of wait time multiplies exponentially.  And patience isn’t our strong suit.  If the queue takes too long, we’ll most probably abandon our purchases, mumble under our breaths about the store, and leave pronto.

Imagine, then, working with a team or a function or an enterprise during times of change.  Say, undergoing an acquisition, when the deal itself might be moving at lightning speed, but the information isn’t.  That wait time will be interminable for employees who don’t know their status, where they’ll be sitting, and/or what they’ll be doing.  Granted, there are good and legal reasons for not releasing the information.  On the other hand, it’s also humane to, at the very least, give workers an idea of the process, the calendar, and a wide swath of times when decisions will be made and communicated.  Broadcasting factual information regularly mutes the gossip and discontent, and psychologically lessens the waiting time.

Then again it’s nice to linger by the “impulse buys” aisle …

GET LOST! IT'S OUR PLEA

It had to happen:  Some tech entrepreneur developed a smartphone app that not only shows individual store floor plans, but also, when interacting with other apps, will re-create your shopping list in the form of a store map, routing you to the best and fastest way to hunt and gather.

And it’s all in the guise of great – and differentiated – customer service.

Hmmm:  We beg to differ.                   

For those in a hurry to amass food and other products, this kind of mapping makes sense.  After all, who’s got time (chefs excluded) to slowly examine a head of Boston lettuce or closely scrutinize the freshness of leeks?  Even consumer goods, like Nike shoes or a Tahari sheath, can easily be plucked from their shelves or hangers when armed with a retail planner.

It’s also a boon for in-store pick-up, when you don’t have the bandwidth to putter or truly shop for the item you want.

Wait.  Isn’t retail all about visual cues, enticing us to stop, look, and handle – and dream?  What ever happened to the thrill of discovering, say, a new kind of organic snack or an out-of-the-world designer label while meandering through a confusing store layout?  Even brick-and-mortar bookstores, of which there are all too few, beg us to wander and browse, read a few pages, and fall in “like” with an author.  We can always order e-books.  But not discover a different writer or illustrator or magazine editor.

Sure, we’re all about navigational signals when we need to get somewhere – a corporate strategy, business goals, even directions to off- and in-sites.  Yet even when we’re so inclined to go straight and not deviate, isn’t there something infinitely human about getting lost?

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM RETAIL NAVIGATING

 ‘Tis the season for merchandising.

Everywhere, offline and online, retailers are ready for the Black Friday/Cyber Monday onslaught.  In addition to marketing the right products at right prices, stores have figured out their flows … and we don’t mean in the Zen sense.

Since nearly 90 percent of the world’s population is right-handed (and right-footed), carefully designed store trails lead shoppers to turn right, face an aspirational lifestyle display, then continue at 45 degree angles to find stuff.  Wide aisles invite us to walk quickly to our destination; narrow, encourage browsing.  [And clogged?   No one we know would stay long in that store.]  And a well-lit back of the store offers chances for leisurely looking – and much higher price tags.

Other retail strategies are well documented.  Like the shrewd placement of impulse buys (the trendier tchotkes) at the cash register or front counter.  Or attractive window displays with our fave four-letter word … that would be “sale.”  And most definitely, salespeople with smiles who do not ask “how can I help you?”

Holidays are, truly, the best times to be studying retail.  More than random facts and figures, though, are the learnings to be reaped.  Especially for communicators and designers who need to capture the same sort of attention insiders and outsiders lavish on gift-giving and the spirit.

For one, think hard about the paths you provide folks to find your content:  Not too open, not too closed.  Wide aisles, in our universe, equate to a lack of detail and description.  Whereas, narrow  walkways, targeted to the right populaces, will lead to the appropriate info … and rewards.

Two:  Cue ‘em.  Visuals at every point in the journey lure, supplying audiences the crumbs needed to pursue content or collaboration or activities.  [Most of us, when faced with unfamiliarity, prefer clear directions.]

Third (and, yes, there’s more … we’ll beg you to continue this analogy) is understanding our audiences’ EQs enough to not hover, to not fawn, to not be obsequious, but to instead offer guidance and advice while all are finding their ways.

And yes, all good excuses for our continuing to practice visual (and retail) therapy.

STORIES FROM THE FRONT: What we learned at retail

Been a regular devotee of Communicating By Design?  Then you’ll know we’re passionate, even batty about visual therapy; we go shopping often to get a regular dose of ideas and (in)sanity.

No kidding.

Our latest Eureka! emanates from the year-or-so-old retail tempest, called “showrooming.”  It’s an activity by a consumer who visits or calls a bricks and mortar outlet to check out products, then goes home, clicks, and buys online. 

At least one august b-school research claims that move is all about price.  Sure:  “Who’s got it cheapest” is definitely a motivator for many would-be buyers.  Other surveying institutions attribute the trend to less-than-satisfactory in-store customer service.  [And who among us can’t throw a stone, even at some of the best in the business?]

Target, for instance, has countered by pulling Kindle Fire and other Amazon products from its shelves. Some merchants add services or special deals to entice in-store buying.

Now it’s time to turn that topic inside out and relate it to our issues:  How many candidates or potential employees showroom your Web site?  Or surf the Web, even read print media and ask friends and family to check out your company and the deal it offers to its associates?  What does vault.com (or other online evaluators) say about working at Company XYZ?  What kind of “customer” service do prospects receive when contacted about a position … even when they’ve advanced to being a high-potential candidate?  How well do they understand what the company’s all about … if they’ve only clicked through your Web presence?

Yes, countering this slightly different form of showrooming is the province of human resources.  It should also be the territory of marketing and branding and design and communications, in partnership with the CPO.  Because no one function, no one department owns 100 percent of the real estate that attracts (or not) new employees. 

We all cover the front.