Of Course I Deserve It

Last month in Pushing the Envelope: Bob slept with Elise, only to find out that she’s his half sister — and the heiress to a list brokerage empire. Frank broke into the data warehouse, and was shocked to find out that Mitch is really the notorious crime lord known as “The Compiler.” Lana met the telemarketer of her dreams and got a better long-distance plan. Doug fed poisoned Spam to…

No, no. That’s not right…

Last month, I began my annual roundup/totally unscientific survey of the holiday catalog offerings. This issue, you lucky readers you, I’m sharing some of my Christmas shopping experiences.

Some companies’ lack of direct/retail synergy make it seem almost like they don’t want my hard-earned money. I went to a local Pottery Barn Kids retail store to buy an item I had seen on my last visit. Alas, it was nowhere to be found. “No, that’s catalog only,” said the clerk. Not in the mood to argue that they had it in stock less than a month ago — and that she should have immediately offered me a catalog so the company wouldn’t lose a sale — I asked for and received the most recent edition and went on my way.

A few days later, I flipped through the book and the item in question wasn’t in the book. Undaunted, I logged on to PotteryBarnKids.com — and the item wasn’t on the site. Sigh. Is it discontinued? Out of stock? Listed in inviso-text? I’ll never know, and it no longer even matters. I’m sure I can find it somewhere else.

Harry & David does a much better job of getting me to buy, both direct and retail. After entering several holiday gift orders online, I was greeted at the checkout screen with an offer for 20% off one item shipped to my household. “You deserve something too,” read the enticing copy. Not that I needed the item, but hey, of course I deserved it. The upsell was so smooth I couldn’t resist ordering a treat. Keeping the momentum going, the confirmation letter included a discount good at an H&D retail store.

The Web has been a boon to direct marketers for many reasons. One big factor is the unlimited space to offer customers numerous options. But there is such a thing as too much choice. I popped onto ColorfulImages.com to pick up some holiday address labels. Thinking this was the quick route, I started scrolling through the choices — and was soon overwhelmed with page after page after page of designs. Do I want the reindeer or the snowman? The Peanuts labels are cute…oh look, angels. And a snowman — wait, is that the snowman I just saw? And more angels — angels everywhere! Good grief — have I been looking at this site so long my time on earth expired?

The solution suddenly hit me. I grabbed the print catalog, picked a design from a comfortingly smaller selection — and then went back to the Web site to place my order.

Some catalogs went for a personalized approach this year, trying to make customers feel like they were in a select group getting a special offer. A week before I received Signals’ holiday catalog, I got a postcard alerting me to my 15% off “personal sale” week. I questioned the wisdom of counting on customers to keep a little postcard around until a catalog arrived. Signals must have thought of that as well, for the cover copy included a reminder about the sale.

I looked through the catalog as soon as I received it, and saw a few potential holiday gifts. One problem, though — it was still a week away from my sale. I wasn’t about to order that day if I knew I could get 15% off the next week. And who knew if I would order at all by then? With seven days between my initial browsing and the sale, the chance that I’ll find other gifts elsewhere increases dramatically — and the opportunity for impulse buying plummets.

Abbey Press tried a similar tactic. They offered me a one-day-only 10% discount on orders of $50 or more. Nice offer, but by the time I got around to looking through the catalog, the date of the sale had been gone for more than two weeks.

Sure, I snooze, I lose. But I suspect Abbey Press would still have liked an order from me, no matter how drowsy I am.

BETH NEGUS VIVEIROS ([email protected]) is executive editor of DIRECT.