If you’re looking to start a cult, but haven’t identified the necessary charismatic, borderline nutter with a messianic complex to lead it, you could do worse than contact Thomas Lundgren, founder of UAE-based “home fashion” retailer The One. He even comes complete with his own divine inspiration myth – apparently he was visited by an angel who told him it was his appointed task “to save the world from Ikea.” It may prove difficult to prize him away from his devotees at The One, though. He inspires fierce loyalty in his staff and the store’s “fans” (not “customers”).
This month saw the launch of The One’s new ad campaign, created by Lowe Mena, which won the account after Lundgren’s mildly controversial open pitch in February, where agencies were invited along to the “Thomas Lundgren Breakfast Show” and told that if they wanted to be considered for the account, they had 24 hours to record a song for The One and submit it. It’s safe to say Lundgren doesn’t believe in the softly-softly approach to marketing his store or his persona.
The One’s previous campaign, created by Grey Worldwide’s Dubai office, proved popular with critics. But Lundgren says it was preaching to the converted and failing to attract or inform consumers who didn’t already know about The One.
Its exhortations to “Save the world from clones” or “Save the world from stereotypes,” along with arresting visuals of, say, a girl with a pet goat in her very pink home, certainly stood out from the crowd in the home furnishing category. Trouble was, it left many people scratching their heads and, at best, wondering what the hell The One was. At worst, they just didn’t care.
The brief for the new campaign, then, was to remain funky and fresh, but to stress that The One is a furniture store which sells limited-edition seasonal collections. And does so comparatively cheaply. “We wanted to explain that our furniture looks more expensive than it is,” Lundgren says. This is now clearly explained in the body copy.
The campaign has two strands: Product ads (“Mugs for nine dirhams”-type stuff) and corporate ads. The product ads (at least the two we’ve seen so far) offer a nice twist on the average entry in this category, thanks to some smart copy. “Chairs so beautiful friends won’t notice you can’t cook,” for example. The corporate ads, Lundgren says, mark the first time any brand has talked about its core values in its advertising.
“Save the world…” has proved to be overstretching, it seems. In the new campaign, it’s been downsized to the more modest, “Change the world…” The core values being pushed to consumers are: Believer, brave, love and alive. “Most retailers sell commodities,” Lundgren says. “We sell feelings.”
Well… no. You sell sofas. And lamps. And candles.
Despite what the corporate ads may claim, there’s nothing “brave” about buying a pillow. Even if you have to fight for it. In fact, if you’re fighting over a pillow, you’re not brave, you’re an idiot. Similarly, if you’ve lost your faith but manage to find “belief” again in the arms of a sofa, you’re an idiot.
You might think we’re taking the ads too seriously. But Lundgren wants to be taken seriously. And so does this campaign. There’s none of the sense of fun that was in the previous effort, where the overwrought copy made a kind of ironic sense. These ads keep the bold hyperbole, but it is accompanied by moody shots of po-faced models in an attempt to add credibility to the “emotions-R-us” copy of the adverts.
Looking at them, you start to think there might be a reason companies don’t try to advertise their core values in ads: You invariably end up sounding vague and wishy-washy. Patronizing, even. To equate values such as faith, love and courage with materialism is crass.
It might seem like we’re not fans of The One or of Lundgren, but that’s not the case – although we’re unlikely to be taking Lundgren up on his offer of a 25 percent discount for life for anyone who gets a permanent The One tattoo.
The store does a good job of offering quality products at affordable prices, and it is, we think, a good thing that someone is challenging Ikea for the yuppie dollar. As a corporation, too, The One treats its staff well and makes a real effort to provide service with a smile in its “theaters.”
Lundgren, meanwhile, is a refreshing change in a region where businessmen tend to err on the side of caution in all areas of media relations. His flair for the dramatic is clear in his PR stunts. He is a passionate, media-savvy character who seems to have a genuine desire to make the world a better place. For example, he plans to build schools in the countries that supply The One with its products – expect an official announcement in October – and has introduced several charitable initiatives around the region that are making a tangible difference to people’s lives. For this, we’re more than happy to forgive the occasional foray into pretentiousness and ego-stroking.
The problem is that the campaign doesn’t talk about any of the real change The One is making. And most potential consumers – the ones who aren’t fans already, the ones the campaign is meant to attract – won’t know. Until that information becomes common knowledge, there’s nothing to show that The One has any more right to claim ownership of “bravery” and “love” than, say, Ikea.
And that leaves generic compilation-album-cover artwork and simplistic claims to values everyone shares. The brand deserves better.
2 Comments So Far
Now - after reading your article - I want to go to the "theater" and check those sofas!
I have to admit that this campaign had an interesting approach, hedonism will always sell. Furniture can be a real complex product, many people search for products that represents them or represents their dreams. These are the main lines for a successful campaign.
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