Sales lessons from mistresses of beauty
OPINION: Some of the best marketing techniques are where a consumer finds themselves in a place where ‘no’ doesn’t seem to be an option.
I was truly the fly to her spider when a beauty consultant offered me a free facial last week.
Now, I am old enough to have learnt that there is no such thing as a free lunch, and that goes for free facials too.
But it was very tempting and I told myself that, just because they were giving me something free, didn’t mean I had to buy their products. Yeah, right. An hour later I left the Lancoˆ me counter willingly fleeced of more dollars than I care to divulge – even to myself.
They may masquerade as beauty consultants, but they’re hardcore sales ninjas in good make up.
‘‘Come into my parlour,’’ they whisper. ‘‘Relax, have some metime, you deserve it.’’.
The comfy bed, the snuggly duvet, the soothing voice – like an insect stunned by its prey,I was mesmerised.
And thus followed the beauty therapy patter.
‘‘This cream is derived from Japonicus root extract.
‘‘Feel how nourished your skin feels with this formulation of lemon balm, ginseng and cranberry.
‘‘The unique texture of oil droplets suspended in water will fuel your skin with bursts of hydration.’’
I had no idea what she was saying but what I heard was: ‘‘You will be transformed into Angelina Jolie’’.
Creams were blended onto my face and neck and gently wiped away. ‘‘This one triggers a cascading series of micro transformations.’’
The whispering continued, but slowly there was also the planting of a hint of discontent.
‘‘As we get older a mask such as this, with its extract of Barbarum fruit, will plump up those lines.’’
Cleverly, while relaxing me, she instilled a sense of unease.
How could I argue when she, oh so gently, informed me of my declining youth.
How could I tell her I didn’t need it when she offered me such hope?
In a nutshell, that’s what these expensive beauty products are: hope in a jar.
All I need to do is apply about 12 of these lotions morning and night for the rest of my life, and eternal youth is mine.
The words got stuck in my mouth when I noted her ever so slightly condescending look as I started to explain that the supermarket stuff works well enough.
That look said:’’You need help, you sweet fool, and I am the angel that can assist’’.
Then she gently got me again with an offer of a free goodie bag full of more products of hope. Cosmetic companies have been offering these for years – these offer, develop and grow loyal customers.
Consistently, customers say they’re more likely to buy much more frequently from retailers who give them bona fide free gifts.
Then, of course, the beautician has a record of everything that ‘‘worked so well,’’ so they can follow up and caringly see if you want to ‘‘invest’’ in yourself again.
‘‘Are you going out? Let’s add a bit of colour,’’ she says as she starts applying the foundation infused with perlite and silica, the blusher, the concealer and finishes with a lippy – at a mere $80. ‘‘What do you think?’
I am trying to stay focused, but I am so relaxed and my skin is still zinging from the noncomedogenic, non-acnegenic serum.
On the way out I peer into the mirror. I look just the same.
But my wallet is lighter and in my hand there is a large bag, the contents of which are reflected in my eyes: it’s called hope.
‘‘I look just the same. But my wallet is lighter.’’