"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun" |
Thinking of You Underneath its ageless veils of still than its skin of affection and its bones of servile favor, one finds at the very heart of the greeting card industry a more temporal incentive: Convenience. For those who care - but not enough to actually take the time to express an original feeling - Hallmark and over 1,500 Hallmark-wannabes are there to play leaden-tongued Cyrano at roughly $1.50 per cloying verse or sub-Diceman one-liner. Thus, while the Postmaster General sees email as a disastrous revenue suck, savvy greeting card publishers looking for the next great value-add take a much different view. With the desktop immediacy and instant delivery that email brings to the greeting card equation, the convenience factor achieves a state of such potentially lucrative tumescence that even those publishers with the longest, happiest, most profitable marriages to pulp have jumped into the digital
debauch money shot. Given the prudish trepidation with which so many other paper
tycoons ersatz sentimentalists' quick infatuation with the medium may seem somewhat surprising. But greeting card impresarios have always been a shrewd, forward-thinking bunch. Indeed, their industry is one of capitalism's great triumphs: a $7-billion-a-year business built on the notion that saccharine Santas, pastel elephants, pun-prone bunnies, and fart
jokes Hackett seem sophisticated are somehow necessary to confer the proper significance to life's most special days. In spawning this great empire, the industry has always utilized the latest available technologies. Where would it be without the myriad devices the Postal Service uses to sort, route, and deliver millions of pieces of mail each day? Without the advances in printing press technology that allow for cheaper, smaller press runs? Without the DTP hardware and software that turns anyone with an ability to draw overly cute animals or overly hideous people into a publisher? Without the time-suck of high-tech careers that keep people chained to their cubicles instead of home with their families? (Got a stupid kid you hardly see who's doing bad in school? There's a greeting card for that very situation.) With this legacy, it's easy to see why a company like American Greetings, the industry's second-largest publisher, has so wholeheartedly embraced high-tech's latest gift to post-necessity capitalism. Ironically, the company's purest nod to the digital realm, the animated greeting card, is probably its least compelling online offering. With greeting cards, brevity has always been the salve of wit's absence - the typical card may be stupid, but at least it's short. Turn that stale double entendre or turgid sweet nothing into a slow-playing animation, and the awfulness only increases. Sure, the web's about moving cards, but not in the animation sense. What it really does well is deliver a better point-of-sale. Lazy consumers in search of treacly swag to sufficiently demonstrate their affection/concern/appreciation for some significant other no longer have to venture into the local mall's frighteningly
sparkly shop. Candy, flowers, balloons, paper cards to which you can add a personal message - they're all just a mouse-click away now. You email your order to American Greetings; it mails out a real-world offering to the person you specify. For sitcom-style spouses who habitually forget to commemorate special occasions with the obligatory sunset card, there's even a reminder service. In time, one imagines, card-picking agents will do all your work for you: You simply create a personal database of who you need to send cards to and when you need to send them, and then indicate the kind of cards each person on your list likes. Write a few personalized messages the agent can use as a model, and voila! You never have to worry about greeting cards again. Is it all perhaps a bit too convenient? That's hard to say. On the one hand, greeting cards undoubtedly derive some of their value from the personal gesture - if not the penning of an actual thought, then at least an actual signature and the licking of a stamp. On the other hand, maybe they don't! Convenience is our age's great goal - nobody's making millions by inventing products that make things harder for people. Except Bill Gates and Dr. Joel Kaplan, of course. And speaking of making millions... Given the extent to which advertising - or at least dreams of advertising - pervade the web, the greeting card industry's arrival here may finally open its eyes to this huge revenue source it's been overlooking for far too long now. Think about it for a moment; according to the Greeting Card Association, 7.5 billion cards are exchanged each year. 7.5 billion primary impressions, and at least that many more pass-alongs. That's a medium in and of itself, and yet it's totally unexploited by advertising. In addition, the greeting card is probably the world's best medium for relationship marketing. Your product, placed on a greeting card, gets a tacit endorsement from the card's sender, who invariably is a trusted confidant of the card's recipient: "It's our anniversary and I love you - have a Coke!" Is there a better way to conflate the irrational emotions that drive purchases with one's products? Certain companies are starting to understand this; go to your local Tower Records and you're likely to see a rack of free postcards, sponsored by the likes of Liz Claiborne and US magazine. But why limit it to postcards, when you could tap into the emotional valence of eight billion Happy Birthdays and Merry Christmases? And there's really no need to give away such cards for free. As any vessel of the zeitgeist can tell you, people define their lives now through the products that surround them. Greeting cards bearing the images of their beloved marketplace furnishings would undoubtedly sell for a premium. courtesy of St. Huck
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