I was brought up short in the supermarket the other day by a bag of pretzels, which is not typically on my radar.  Last time I had a pretzel probably was some time in 1978.

But this bag of pretzels intrigued.  Yes, it had snappy packaging, done up in colors to attract the eye.   What was more intriguing, however – and more important in convincing me to stop for a closer look, was the product’s prominent positioning. 

The first word that caught my eye was “UNIQUE” – equal in weight to the product’s name: Splits.  A banner at the top of the bag proclaimed “The Original Split-Open Pretzel.” 

Since I’d never heard of a split-open pretzel and had no idea whether being split-open was a marketable pretzel attribute, I read on.  Further down the package, three prominent arrows pointed to a big pretzel, along with a few short lines of text for each benefit:

It’s abundantly clear from their key message that Unique Splits Pretzel Bakery of Reading, PA has decided that slightly bulging surfaces, grooves and tiny pockets of air buried in their pretzel would make them more crunchy and appealing.   True or not, they got my attention!  And the taste test later at home convinced me that they had a good pretzel, although the added value of the benefits they cited were lost on me, although I’m ready to admit that a pretzel aficionado may have picked up on them immediately.

The benefits don’t stop there.  The Splits package also proclaims that their product has more flavor, fewer ingredients (no sugars, malts, preservatives, colors, trans fats) … and smarter baking.

“The Spannuth Family started baking hard and soft pretzels back in the late 1800s,”according to their Web site and a blurb on the back of the package.  “The demand for our hard pretzels increased rapidly because of our ‘Unique’ baking process” that allowed the raw pretzel to “burst open,” creating bubbles and crevices that are “crispy, yet crunchy, and filled with flavor.”  Which is why they started calling them “Splits”. 

Splits come in multitudinous varieties, too: multi-grain, extra dark, unsalted, chocolate covered (yum!) and my future favorite, Bacon Cheddar Flavor Shocked “Shells” (they’re hollow, which makes them more like a potato chip than a pretzel).

If the pretzel itself isn’t the non plus ultra of pretzels (at least for me), the company’s positioning and benefits presentation -- their product story -- is close to perfect and certainly approach “UNIQUE”.  

TakeAway:  Don’t be hesitant about stepping forward with your product benefits – especially if they clearly set your offering apart from competitors. 

Content © 2015 by Brian E. Faulkner   

Bad News.  It knocks on all our doors eventually -- the kind that arrives unexpectedly, like a sunny day thunderclap.  Perhaps a fast moving tornado rips without warning through your neighborhood, leaving incomprehensible destruction behind.  Or a fire destroys your house.

For the staff, members and fans of the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky, bad news came during the early morning hours of February 12, 2014 when a sinkhole opened up under its Skydome display area.  Security camera footage shows something like a million dollars worth of prized Corvettes tumbling thirty feet into a 40 x 60-foot chasm where they were crushed by tons of dirt, rocks, concrete and other Corvettes.  Fortunately, three were not damaged beyond repair.  Five of the iconic sports cars, however, were crushed nearly flat and can’t be fixed.  Eighteen months later, the hole has been filled in, and the museum awaits restoration of the final damaged Corvette.

The fascinating twist in all of this is that museum attendance has increased significantly since those dark days two winters ago as Corvette aficionados in far greater numbers stop by to see the hole and inspect the damaged cars on display.  The sinkhole has been filled in and the floor repaired.  And the museum staff, who work among seemingly endless displays created around the Corvette theme, remain optimistic that publicity generated by the event will keep fans coming.

“People just really enjoy hearing the story and like seeing the damage,” spokesperson Katie Frassinelli said, in a story reported by Associated Press.  “I guess it’s the rubberneck effect.”

We all get that.  It borders on shocking to see violent damage inflicted on a Corvette or some other finely crafted machine that’s been whacked or crushed or flooded – like the rows of new Volkswagens destroyed in last week’s Tianjin, China explosion and fire. 

But what I don’t get is how little story about the sinkhole event there is on the Corvette Museum’s Web site, which, given all the notoriety and increased attendance, should be featured more prominently – or at least be directly accessible from the site’s landing page.  I had to hunt and hunt and hunt before I found mention of the sinkhole ‘Vettes and even sat patiently through a breathlessly paced video that I thought might contain footage of the cars tumbling toward their fate – or the sinkhole’s after effects; it did not. 

To their credit, the museum has embraced what at first must have seemed like a nightmare and has turned it into a plus.  They just need to let the world know about it more effectively – front and center.  They need more story, because as no less a personage than The Donald has said,

“Sometimes by losing a battle you find a new way to win the war.”

TakeAway:  Shine up that bad apple and put it to work for your business.

Content © by Brian Faulkner

Krispy Kreme is more a dream than a donut.  Anybody who’s ever tasted one knows it.  Whether last week, last year or a lifetime ago, a hot-from-the-shop Krispy Kreme donut is one of the few things you can experience the first time all over again.  Even first kisses fade, but Krispy Kreme lingers.

Once you’ve encountered this exquisite life’s experience masquerading as a donut, you don’t forget.  And look forward to your next first taste.

So what’s up with the erratic market performance of this iconic American brand?  Sure, management stumbled a few years back and had to retrench.  Sure, the shrill voices of the sugar police rose against them – not to mention the carb patrol and the trans-fat fighters.  The Great Recession also hurt the company (stand in line).  But here’s what truly ails Krispy Kreme:

They’ve lost the threads of their brand story.

Krispy Kreme used to have it made.  People loved the delectable treat with the power to steal their hearts, and the Winston-Salem, North Carolina company was the rising star of donut retailers with a share of mind that outdistanced even its much bigger rival, Dunkin’ Donuts.  Up until about ten years ago, they rode a wave of popularity that bordered on cultishness.  Entering the 21st century, it looked like Krispy Kreme could do no wrong.  Its franchises were costly but promised a stellar return on investment and guaranteed an enviable place in America’s popular psyche (picture here the mythological Psyche, object of Cupid’s desire).   

One new store in Washington State, where the mythical appeal of Krispy Kreme’s awful goodness had stirred up a willing crowd, was said to have grossed $454,000 in the first week.  By comparison, the average McDonald’s at the time (around 2004) was generating approximately $1.5-million in sales annually.  It wasn’t unusual for a new store to attract long lines of people patiently waiting to become Krispy Kreme customers.  But not any more.  Today’s new store openings have to promote “free donuts for a year” to attract a crowd that used to come unbidden.

The company seems to have gone a long way toward fixing their organizational and financial issues, despite the latent skepticism that dogs them on Wall Street.  Much is reported about their stock price performance and management changes these days, but there’s little talk of Krispy Kreme the brand, the Pied Piper of donuts, whose products should be liberally passed around the mighty New York investment houses early every morning, accompanied by cups of Krispy Kreme’s excellent coffee.  That would turn ‘em around!  Even the stubbornest of sugar deniers among them would succumb quickly upon experiencing the first-time pleasure of each warm Krispy Kreme signature glazed donut (a hot Krispy Kreme is heavenly; a cold one is just different).
 
So is there magic still left in Krispy Kreme?  As one who lives near their headquarters and has watched the company’s fortunes rise and fall for a long time, I hope so. The brand may still live in our hearts, but it’s up to Krispy Kreme to remind us from time to time -- to keep telling their story.

TakeAway:  If you have a brand people love, treat it like the rare treasure it is, lest it tarnish and fade away.
Tags:  Krispy Kreme, Dunkin’ Donuts

Content © by Brian E. Faulkner

Brian Faulkner is a content and strategic communication writer.  He helps clients come up with words to set their businesses, brands and products apart and attract the customers they want most.  His strategic insights, and the words that go with them, have made a significant, often immediate difference for client companies over many years.  He thrives on strategic communication problem solving, complex subjects, new ideas, concepts-as-products, challenging marketing situations and demanding deadlines.  His "sweet spot" is smaller to moderate sized consumer products, retail, service and manufacturing companies that may have struggled to find just the right words to position their business, brands or products to competitive advantage.

Brian also is a five-time Emmy award winning Public Television writer and narrator of UNC-TV’s popular Our State magazine series, on the air since 2003.