Marc's last round
Marc Keighery's recent passing left a number of memorable impressions on the Australian fashion industry. For me, me two stand out.
One was the remarkable sale of his company to Oroton for $22 million. Almost from the day it changed hands it was obvious that Oroton had paid way too much. One of the reasons was that the company no longer had Keighery's horsepower to make it fly.
Oroton had overlooked the personal element that so often underpins a successful fashion company. Or maybe a suitable replacement simply didn't exist. Well qualified managers, especially those of an accounting bent, seldom fill the shoes of the departed schmutta entrepreneur. Logic and training are no substitute for gut feeling in fashion.
The other reason falls more into the category of a lesson that Marc's method could teach everybody in retail, especially those running boutiques. I first met him yonks ago when he opened his fledgling menswear store in Chatswood. He was selling shirts in - for that time - very unmasculine fabrics and colours and if that didn't scare you off, the prices did.
Put anybody other than Marc into that shop and it would have gone bust. The way Marc did it was to personally engage his customers. He got to know their names, their occupations, their hobbies and their telephone numbers. When he styled his shirts he visualised who would buy them and then he called each customer with the news that his selected shirt was waiting on the shelf.
I went to interview Marc soon after the shop had opened because people were telling me about 'the ex-boxer selling weird shirts hand over fist in Chatswood.' The interview took more than two hours, not because Marc talked to me very much but because he was continually being called away to attend to customers either on the phone or calling in.
I came away with little more factual information than I'd arrived with but I understood why this man was such a success.
People like Marc Keighery and Joe Bananas (Queen Victoria Building in Sydney) work magic when they engage their customer. They alter the customer's vision of themselves.
"Gawd, I could never wear that! I'd look stupid. Look, I'll try it on but I'm telling you, I won't buy it. Hey, it's not too bad. Okay if you tell me I look that good in it, I'll give it a go."
Especially in men, there is a persona deep inside wanting to get out. Fashion clothing can free it, but it takes a powerful guide like Marc or Joe to open the door by inspiring enough confidence to compel the customer to buy.
Target Practice
When Target was part of the huge, lumbering Coles/Myer conglomerate, it was held in place by the heavy gravitational weight of Myer above it and Kmart below. Now without Myer there is nothing to hold it back from rising.
Ten years ago Target offered house branded, value-for-money merchandise in all of its departments. Kids clothes were its star performers because they were not only well styled but came with fearsome quality control. It destigmatised its kidswear to the point where the rich were pleased to admit they shopped at Tarjay for their ankle biters.
Not wanting to throw out babies with bathwater, Target has kept a firm hold on its basic business while cheekily popping its head through the mass market ceiling with designer labels.
The decision to make short bombing runs over the designer market was masterminded by an independent, Melbourne-based organisation called Style Counsel, established by Effie Young some 17 years ago. Among its clients it boasts The Clothing Company, Maggie T, Mr K, Resort Report, Stella McCartney Lingerie, Stitches and, of course Target, to which it has consulted for the past six years.
Whether it was Target's idea or Style Counsel's is not important, but its merchandising strategy is brilliant. Target didn't want to morph into Myer department stores but it wanted some of the pizzazz generated by designer labels.
The way it has done that is to entice each designer label into the stores to merchandise one collection with the implication that it will never happen again. This brings in the punters, hooves thundering and purses open. The system quickens the pulse at Target without the ongoing drain of running departments where mood swings and leftovers and wounding fit-outs steal the cream. How much damage it does to the designer labels is debatable - but of no concern to Target.
Latest in the Target designer seduction story is the GRL Mobile launch, where mobile phones are treated as fashion accessories to attract female buyers who can appreciate the intersection of beauty and technology. Prada will even contribute its phone to the offer - although for a limited time.
by Fraser McEwing