Thank you for your most recent correspondence with me on January 5, 2011. I feel that our conversation should not only be one-way, thus, I am responding to your most kind and heartfelt message.
I understand that change is an inevitable part of life, and although I do not immediately love your new “look”, I’m sure that in time, I will reflect on the “old” logo as something that is a mere memory.
Someday in the future, I’ll be in Starbucks with a friend or acquaintance and we’ll reminisce about our favorite memories in Starbucks – the late nights studying, the awkward first (and last) blind dates, and the quiet afternoons of relaxing alone with a book. We’ll reflect on the changes in our own lives, and the changes in Starbucks, one of our favourite brand’s, life. “Oh, I remember when there was actual text in the logo. That was soooo long ago!”
But, until then, I will have some slight discomfort at fully embracing the new look. But I’ll get there… someday.
I appreciate the manner in which you’ve unveiled the new look. Being that I manage brands on a daily basis, I have a lot of respect for the effort that you are making in helping all of your customers – new, old, loyal, familar – understand the growth and change within the organization. And besides, you’re saying that it’s the “future” of the brand – surely I still have some time with the old one, right?
Now that you’ve told me why you’ve changed and shown me a bit about what’s to come, I inevitably want more, I need more. Tell me, what are you doing to roll out the brand in the stores? Will the store design change? What about the signage? What are you going to do to phase out the old and bring in the new?
But enough with the questions. You’ve told me there is a plan and you’ve shared your vision and strategic thinking with your loyal public. You’ve started the conversation, and clearly, it’s just beginning. Keep us (customers) in the loop the whole way through, and I’m sure I’ll love your new look as much as you do, soon enough.
Not my first car, as you might think, seeing that it was a “big day” and all. Nope, I bought my second car, and I think the process was much less enlightening as the first time around, and much more difficult to stomach than I wanted it to be.
I’ve been a car owner for 5 years now, and my first car, a 1999 Toyota Camry affectionately known as “Edgar”, was new to me and a perfect fit for a University student who wanted a way to get around more efficiently. (The “need” part of the equation at the time was questionable, I’m sure.)
Oh for it to be 1999, again.
Over the next five years, Edgar and I travelled 100,000+ kilometers together. Road trips, both short and long, commuting to work in the big Smoke, flying down the highway with the sun roof open. Edgar was a dream. A top of the line XLE model with all the features. Power everything. Alarm system. Leather seats. Sun roof. What’s that equal? Freedom, of course.
There’s nothing like the feeling of a first vechile. You feel so free the minute it’s yours. “I can go ANYWHERE”, you immediately think to yourself. And, sure enough, off into the sunset you drive.
Five years later though, my 1999 Camry was getting on in years and just didn’t have the pep it used to. Maintenance costs were skyrocketing. The situation had been looking bleak for a couple months, but I wasn’t ready to face the music until I absolutely had to.
That happened this week.
Edgar went into the shop for a quick check-up came out with a “to-do” list a mile long and a bottom line that was definitely too rich for my blood.
I could hear the fat lady warming up in the wings.
The news that I had been dreading had arrived. Not only did I have to say good-bye to Edgar, I would need a new car because:
I live in a city that does have public transport, but not the kind that can get you anywhere and everywhere.
My family lives 1.5 hr drive away and to visit without a car would mean a 3-hour inconvenient bus ride.
It is preferable to have a car for my job – public transit to the office is less than convenient and I often spend time away from the office for client meetings, etc.
I begged my dad to come help me out, because I knew he’d be excited for the thrill of the hunt, as he’s always ready to step up to a challenge whenever needed or demanded (this was one of those more demanding situations).
We spent 4 hours in used car lots yesterday, test-driving, looking at cars, talking to sales people. The good news is that I found a car, within my (tight) budget that I will be happy with for the next year or couple of years. The even better news is that I drove away from the lot with the car. In less than a day I solved a problem that to me, was a massive mopey headache all week long.
The bad news is that my new car is not a Toyota, and I’m shocked at the brand loyalty to feel to this brand. A brand that I’ve been sitting inside for 5 years, and because those damn cars hold their value so well, this time around they weren’t an option. Sometimes though, $ (read: priorities) will outrank loyalty.
Car culture has been built on the brands that represent the vehicles and all have a culture of their own. My new car will do exactly what it is supposed to do – get me from Point A to Point B. I’ll just have to do it without the sunroof.