This morning we received an offer from Groupon (incidentally a pretty cool site/service for Los Angelenos) offering us a hotel stay and extras worth $424 for only $150. (After today, you can see the deal here for a few more months.) We immediately noticed this language in the offer:

“For $150, you’ll get a romantic retreat at SeaCrest Resort complete with ocean-view room, wine tasting with appetizers, vineyard tour, bottle of wine, and $10 toward Marie Callender’s…”

We don’t know about you or your significant others, but Marie Callender’s is not typically how we like to end wine-filled romantic beach retreats. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with Marie Callender’s. It’s just that as a brand it’s not really the right accompaniment for a resort, a weekend or an outing purporting to be escapist, passionate or vinicultural.

Escapist, Passionate, Vinicultural

Marie Callender's

There’s a lesson here for b2b brands and the professionals in charge of them. Do the partners, third-parties and ancillary products/services associated with your brand do it justice?

• If you want the brand to be seen as technologically advanced, you’d better make sure your salespeople don’t show up to meetings running PowerPoint 2004 on Windows 98.
• If you want the brand associated with service, you might not want to co-market with TimeWarner Cable.
• If you want the brand to be known as dependable, giving away crappy bags that fall apart a week after the tradeshow isn’t doing you any favors.

If you’re serious about building your brand, then it’s up to you to ensure that you surround it with other brands that present it to best effect.

It takes planning, it isn’t always cheap and it often involves someone or something you can’t directly control, but hey – if building great brands was easy it just wouldn’t be so rewarding, now would it?

But first, a confession.  Despite the life of genteel poverty that the noble profession of brand-building entails, among the BrandCulture team I developed a weakness for high-end hotels back when living a different and more remunerative life of advocacy in the legal profession.  Although regrettably not as frequent a habitue of  luxury lodging as the Wall Street Journal’s “Finicky Traveler” Laura Landro, to kick the year off on the right foot I snuck in a visit to the Four Seasons Aviara Resort in North San Diego, just a few short hours south of BrandCulture HQ .  Upon arrival I headed straight to the golf course with no reservation or other advance warning where Adam, one of the pros at the course, looked up from the till and greeted me by name with a warm welcome back.  Ever since Dale Carnegie pointed out in 1936 that there is no “sweeter sound” to anyone than that of his or her own name, it has been a no-brainer for any restaurant, hotel, recreational facility or business that interacts with the public to greet returning guests individually.  But this is not a small resort.  Aviara has 329 guest rooms and 240 villas spread out over 2,000 acres of land.  It has 78,000 square feet of meeting space, and regularly hosts conferences with up to 1,000 attendees.  In a high-end 300 room hotel, Barbara Talbott, the former EVP–Marketing for Four Seasons posits that guests and staff interact in aggreate over 5,000 times a day (with 5,000 times to make a positive impression, or the converse)!  The astounding aspect of my interaction with Adam was that I’d last darkened the door of the clubhouse over seven months earlier during which interval Adam undoubtedly greeted hundreds if not thousands of other golfers.

Dumbstruck, I couldn’t decide if Adam was some sort of  megasavant, if I was legendary for breaking the Tin Cup course record for number of balls hit into the water on hole #11 and the staff inexplicably had hung a photograph of me in their breakroom (like the employees of Harrah’s did with Terrance Watanabe) or if the winged chariot of time had simply transformed me into a dead-ringer for Ichabod Crane who stood out from all other guests.

After completing the round, I headed off for dinner at Vivace, the resort’s Italian restaurant, where I was coincidentally greeted by the same woman who had served me dinner seven months earlier.  “I remember you,” she noted and proceeded to bring over unasked the restaurant’s “secret” wine list that includes some California and other New World wines, recalling my intimidation with the restaurant’s regular wine list that features exclusively wines from Italy (I’m becoming less afraid thanks to reading the book Vino Italiano:  The Regional Wines of Italy where I’ve learned that Italy produces more wine than any other country).   But I find it unlikely that was the only hayseed rube in over seven months who couldn’t handle the gravitas of the Italian wine list.  Back to the Ichabod Crane theory.

And then . . . the final astonishment came at the Kids for All Seasons center, a program that provides a full day of activities and professional supervision for children for a cost of . . . absolutely nothing!  Providing free childcare so that parents can enjoy (i.e. spend money) the resort is a brilliant business strategy.  The Four Seasons forgoes the incremental $75 or so other resorts like The Phoenician and the St. Regis Monarch Beach collect, but their guests not only spend multiples of it on other resort services, they feel great about getting something for free!  (For more on how “FREE” can cloud rational decision-making, see Chapter Three of Dan Ariely’s book Predicably Irrational).  In any case, two workers staffing Kids for All Seasons looked up at the two children I’d brought (again with no reservation or advance warning), thought for a moment and casually proceeded to identify them by name . . . again after a seven month hiatus.  Short of the kids recapitulating The Ransom of Red Chief during their previous visit, I can’t imagine how they could have plucked the kids names out of the ether.  A mnemonic can work to remember a name for an afternoon, but not seven months and hundreds of children.  What makes this feat even more extraordinary is the fact that at least one of the staffers was a part-timer who is a local student who has not yet completed high school.

This level of hospitality, dear readers, cannot be forced no matter how comprehensive a property’s “Standards of Service” manual might be.  It can’t really even be institutionalized, it can only be inspired.  Why?  Because it requires a level of human engagement and interest that can’t be coerced or faked.  With sufficient staff and the right incentives, people can be taught to run out to greet a car within 30 seconds of pulling into the porte-cochere or say “good morning” when a guest passes within seven feet of a staff member (all Four Seasons standards, by the way); what can’t be taught is whether the people working at the resort actually, genuinely want their guests to feel like they are all VIPs.

Although travel writers and pundits rank resorts like Aviara on the quality of their facilities, amenities, sheets, beds that are more comfortable that Oprah’s own, 24-hour room service and whether there is a telephone in the bathroom (!), those are of course the far easier part to replicate — all they require is money (admittedly in much shorter supply these days) and upkeep.

It is the Brand Culture (pardon the expression) of not only giving a damn, but giving more than a damn that keeps the Four Seasons on top.  Best of all, unlike the stunning floral displays, acres of marble, top quality food ingredients, HVAC, and all the other hard costs of running a hotel, giving more than a damn doesn’t cost anything extra.  Restaurateur Danny Meyer points this idea out in his book Setting the Table:  ” . . . the hug that came with the food made it taste even better! That realization would gradually evolve into my own well-defined business strategy — the core of which is hospitality, or being on the guests’ side.”

The Four Season’s founder Isadore Sharp understands this as well and, as he details in his book Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy.  Mr Sharp built one of the world’s most valuable brands basically with slight variation on two biblical admonitions:  (1) treat everybody well, regardless if they are a potentate or poet (or golf hacker/brand-builder), i.e., the Golden Rule and, (2) the last shall be first, i.e., empower the front line/last mile — “the least motivated people . . . had to come first” because “they could make or break a five-star service reputation.”

Simple enough in theory, but devilishly difficult to pull off.  People often bring unreasonable expectations — some might say delusions of grandeur — to luxury lodging.  We’ve all encountered folks who book the cheapest room and demand the most sybaritic suite (I’ve checked in along side them a time or two).  And you sure can’t make everybody delighted all of the time.  But at Aviara at least, the resort’s managers appear to be “keeping their egos in check and let[ting] the people who work for you shine,” as Mr. Sharp admonishes.  The results are remarkable from the charismatic Surf Concierge to the winsome high school student providing childcare.

Given the still brutal hospitality market and the crushing debt service Broadreach Capital Partners faces on the underlying Aviara asset, it is unclear how long Aviara will stay a Four Seasons.  During the well-publicized kerfuffle last spring, Broadreach tried to oust the Four Seasons and install its own Dolce Hotels and Resorts as the property’s manager by changing the locks on the executive offices in the wee small hours of the morning.  The Four Seasons responded with barriers and checkpoints while contending it has the right to manage the property for at least eighty years.   Broadreach may find itself between the Scylla and Charybdis of Oscar Wilde’s admonition that “In this world there are only two tragedies.  One is not getting what one wants and the other is getting it.”

Aviara’s physical setting and facilities are undeniably magical.  But the people and the Four Seasons Brand Culture, not all the trappings, are what keep its brand in a category of one.

Aviara Update:

On April 20, 2010, the Arbitration Panel decided that following a payment of compensation from Broadreach, “both parties contributed to the demise of the business relationship between the parties and that the Hotel Management Agreement should be terminated and a transition implemented in accordance with a transition plan between the parties.” Hyatt took over management in of Aviara June, 21 2010.

The last time we rented a car in San Francisco for a day, the rate was $77. So far so good. Plus $17.50 “Airport Transportation Fee” (presumably for riding the “people mover” tram the 1/2 mile from the terminal to the rental car center), 2.5% “California Tourism Commission Assessment,” 11.11% “Concession recovery fee,” and 9.25% sales tax for a total of $112.95. In other words, the fees amounted to almost 50% of the base cost of renting the car.

As ridiculously (and unsustainably) low as our airfare was, these garbage tourism fees that presumably soak visitors instead of voters have become shocking even to travelers accustomed to high “transient” taxes. And the trend shows no signs of abating. In July, the City of Oakland raised its occupancy tax from 11% to 14% and Las Vegas bumped its room tax up 3 percentage points to 12%. In New York City room taxes now total 14.45% + $3.50 a day. Thinking of renting a car in Alaska? Your bill is likely to be 54.4% higher than the base price. Worse yet are taxes that raise revenue completely unrelated to tourism. Kansas City assesses a $4 “Downtown Arena” fee on rentals to help pay for the costs of the Sprint Center.

In Georgia they’ve even added a rental car tax to finance a stadium for the Atlanta Braves minor league baseball team.

And the list goes on. The rapacity for new sources of revenue doesn’t stop at hotel rooms and rental cars. Take, for example, parking tickets! This year the State of California decided to assess a $4.50 per ticket charge for the “State Court Facilities Construction Fund,” presumably to build better facilities in which to process the additional revenue generated by the new fees. Not to be outdone, local municipalities are adding their own new fees to the tickets, either rounding the $4.50 up to $5 or, in the case of Oakland again, upping the ante with a $10 additional per ticket fee. Equal justice under the law indeed.

Many may dismiss this fiscal legerdemain as a nuisance driven by tough economic times. But the net result of all this nonsense is that visitors often have little sense of what a trip will actually cost. More than a mere irritant, the bait-and-switch nature of these “assessments” leaves visitors with both unanticipated expenses and the sense that they are the chumps. Lured by experiences available Only in San Francisco or by San Deigo’s $8.6 million “Happy Happens” positioning, visitors find instead that they are subsidizing the common wealth through unexpected fees with little connection to travel.

Such sources of funds will likely prove irresistible for their pernicious ability to raise revenue without attracting attention. But there is a limit to what visitors will endure. At some point travelers just may vote with their feet (and wallets) and go elsewhere or stay home. When this happens, the $1,000 parking ticket can’t be far behind.

The same holds true with great destination brands.  As regular devotees of this blog know, we’re not above throwing stones at contrived, lukewarm destination branding “strategies” including those we pillory in our Destination Blanding post.  But on a recent Hilton Head summer excursion, BrandCultureTalk couldn’t help but appreciate the white sand beaches dotted with signature blue umbrellas.  As All Get Aways notes, “Despite the hearty development, the island sports an underlying tastefulness.  The blue beach umbrellas, available for rental, are lined up in orderly rows.”

This bold, commonly-embraced practice is not simply a result of monkey-see, monkey do, but an outward and visible destination branding imprimatur developed from and inextricably interwoven with the island’s indigenous history.  As Margaret Greer, author of The Sands of Time, A History of Hilton Head Island, notes, “Summer was for farming, winter was for harvesting oysters and in the fall the ‘blue crab’ was caught.”

The “low country” region’s iconic “blue crab” is the quintessential icon of the coastal shores of Georgia and South Carolina.  The uniform blue umbrellas pick up and play off this regional delicacy.

What’s particularly compelling is how well Hilton Head has embraced and extended its blue umbrellas across its entire beach line and with the full support of an eclectic mix of iconic hotel brands including Westin, Hilton, and Marriott.  The ability of the destination to unite its diverse representation around a consistent and cohesive bold — yet simple — gesture serves as a visible touchstone to reflect the unique regional character and hospitality.  It is also a testament to the destination’s world-class status that transcends that of any individual hotel brand – the Holy Grail in destination branding.

At Hilton Head, the components express their unique brands and personalities within the framework of the destination’s singular idea, creating a gestalt that is greater than the simple sum of the constituent parts.

Adjacent Marriott and Westin Hotels on Hilton Head Island United by Shared Blue Umbrellas

Tapping into the singular characteristics and vitality of a destination while uniting disparate views and competing businesses around a singular idea is one of the greatest challenges and opportunities in destination branding.  With the simple, shared iconic symbol of the ubiquitous blue umbrella, Hilton Head pulls it off with enduring, timeless aplomb.

On a personal level, he’s more Sir Paul than Sir Gawain – that is, he has reconciled his iconic status with an endearing, shaggy-haired-bloke accessibility. He’s larger than life, but somehow not remote, and he has impressively navigated the tricky art of expanding a master brand without overextending it.

Ask anyone to indulge you in a round of the Virgin Brand Word Association Game, and you’ll likely get a variety of responses. When I say Virgin, you may think of:

(1) The origin of it all, Virgin Records. From its humble beginnings in the 1970’s as a mail order record catalog, the business grew into a chain of Virgin Megastores, with the record company ultimately absorbed by the world’s third largest record company, EMI.

The record company and Megastore laid the foundation for decades of brand equity, as the Virgin name became synonymous with hipness as well as accessibility.

(2) If your respondent is an Angeleno, they may say Virgin Australia (technically named V Australia, as Virgin Atlantic shareholder Singapore Airlines put the kibosh on using the master brand name for the Aussie endeavor), whose ubiquitous billboards illuminate a large portion of LA skyline. Capitalizing on the insanely lucrative LA to Australia air travel route, not to mention minimal brand competition, Branson et al recently launched Virgin Australia, an appendage of his Virgin Air brand, which also includes Virgin America and Virgin Atlantic. For the record, one BrandCulture member is quite smitten with the latter after a recent trip to the UK.

The airline has garnered success by wisely positioning itself as a cheeky, quirky, and fun airline, while also asserting value and bang for buck. In the generally staid, beige airline industry, Virgin offers a vibrant crimson shot in the arm.

(3) If your respondent is a brand enthusiast, hospitality maven or luxury connoisseur, they may cite Virgin’s Limited Edition venture, Branson’s foray into luxury hospitality.  According to a BrandCulture sibling residing in London, the poshest club in town is, you guessed it, part of the VLE group.  We’ve not yet hobnobbed there, but from afar we’re delighting in the Virgin sub-brand’s name, a departure from traditionally descriptive names in favor of the evocatively luxurious and exclusive tones that Virgin Limited Edition exudes.

Is there anything Branson can’t do? Well, Virgin Cola probably won’t topple its biggest competitor (also crimson in hue) anytime soon – but we look forward to seeing what this lovable Renaissance Man rolls out next.