Luxury World: The Past, Present and Future of Luxury Brands

by Tungate, Mark

  As far as the very rich are concerned, the client–vendor relationship is inversed. ‘They basically see you as domestic servants,’ says Samuel. ‘When you approach them, their initial facial expression is one of disinterest, arrogance or even contempt. But once you’ve shown you’ve got a brain, a bit of charm and sense of humour, they usually warm to you. Speaking the language obviously helps – but quite often they prefer you to address them in English or French, because they want to demonstrate their worldliness to their companions. I’ve been in situations where I’m speaking English and the customer will be replying in Arabic.’

  He’s also dealt with Russian customers, of whom he has mixed memories. ‘They’re very blunt: they don’t mess you around. But they have an adoration of luxury that’s quite touching.’

  For consumers like myself, who buy luxury products very occasionally, good service is one of the things that make the expense worth-while. After all, we consider ourselves VIPs too. High on my personal ‘good service’ list is J M Weston on the Boulevard de la Madeleine, where I have been known to buy pricey footwear. Not only do the vendors have a reassuringly avuncular air, they also spend hours shunting shoeboxes back and forth without complaint and are mines of arcane footwear lore. But here’s the best part. About three months after I bought my last pair of shoes, somebody left a message on my mobile phone. It turned out to be the sales assistant from J M Weston. ‘Monsieur, I just want to check if everything is well with your shoes. If you have any problems with them, or if they need to be polished, please do not hesitate to contact me.’

  Naturally, I need suits to go with my shiny shoes. At the Dior boutique in Rue Royale one Saturday, I found the staff a little distracted, to say the least. One male assistant was occupied by a trio of flashy-looking tourists and didn’t so much as glance in my direction. His blonde colleague was searching for something under the counter. When I finally got their attention for long enough to try on a suit, it wasn’t right: the sleeves were too long, the vent didn’t fall correctly and the trousers were slightly loose at the waist. I mentioned this to the saleswoman, who told me that the alterations person was at lunch. I shrugged, as if to say: ‘No problem – I’ll take my hard-earned cash elsewhere.’

  As I was about to change back into my jeans, a voice outside the fitting room told me that the seamstress had returned. I emerged to see a diminutive dark-haired woman of a certain age dressed in a white lab coat and wearing a large pincushion on her arm like a spiky wristwatch. She took one look at me said: ‘I see exactly what’s wrong.’ Then she began deftly pinning and tucking. By the time she’d finished, the suit was transformed. The alterations were so extensive that the garment would practically have to be remodelled – a service for which I paid nothing. It emerged that Bianca had trained as a couturière 30 years ago. She had been with Dior for over a decade. Her reassuring professionalism changed my impression of the store.

  And here I must add a word of praise for Elisabeth at Le Comptoir de l’Homme in Saint Germain. Is this male grooming emporium a luxury store? Since nobody really needs to spend money on fragrances and skincare products, I think it fits into the category. Go there on a quiet Saturday morning and Elisabeth will fix you an espresso as she chats to you about all the wonderful things you can buy. Did you know, for example, that Hammam Bouquet by Penhaligon’s was the favourite fragrance of the film director Franco Zeffirelli? He personally saved the firm from ruin when he heard it might be going out of business. Or that Winston Churchill wore another Penhaligon’s fragrance, Bleinheim Bouquet? Like Scheherazade, Elisabeth spins enchanting tales.

  People like Bianca and Elisabeth make the real difference between the luxurious and the banal. If the human touch is absent, no amount of glossy marketing can fill the void.

  SPRINGTIME FOR PRINTEMPS

  Printemps is not just a department store – it is a listed monument. In fact, with more than 80,000 visitors a day, it is one of the most visited historic sites in France. But Printemps has a problem. Although it is an iconic destination, having been part of the Paris retail landscape since 1865, it is located right next door to another famous department store: Galeries Lafayette. For more than a century these retail mastodons have battled one another for the attentions of the shoppers and tourists who swarm down the Boulevard Haussmann.

  At the beginning of 2008, Printemps announced a dramatic change of direction. While Galeries Lafayette had an accessible, family-oriented identity, Printemps had for some time positioned itself as a little more chic, a little more coquettishly Parisian than its rival. Now it decided that half measures were no longer enough – it would differentiate itself from its neighbour by lofting itself upmarket and becoming a luxury emporium. When the well-heeled came to Paris, it reasoned, Printemps should be their first port of call. Plans were drawn up for a four-year, €280 million refurbishment that would restore the building’s 19th-century façade and establish a glittering new atrium inside.

  The project was prompted by the !1.1 billion purchase in 2006 of Printemps by the Italian Borletti Group – which also owns Italian department store La Rinascente – in partnership with an investment fund. Like La Rinascente itself, Printemps had found itself caught in the middle of two trends: the emergence of low-cost ‘fast fashion’ chains (Zara, H&M, Primark) at one end and the rise of mass luxury at the other. Middle-market retailers found themselves in a widening chasm between the two. It made sense to follow in the footsteps of Selfridges in London or Bergdorf Goodman in New York and establish Printemps as a home of premium brands.

  The store’s CEO is Paolo de Cesare, a former Procter & Gamble beauty products executive. Having worked in Japan for three years, de Cesare knows what makes luxury consumers tick. Even so, he says, his first task when considering the repositioning was to get the concept of luxury straight in his mind: ‘To me this was the fundamental question: what are we trying to deliver? So with my marketing background I naturally went to the customers and asked them to define luxury. It emerged that the first attribute of luxury is quality. The second is emotional reward. Only the third area is about price, exclusivity or status. Now, we know that customers from developing markets are interested in status, but in the Western world it is becoming less important – perhaps even undesirable. So we decided that our objective was to provide quality and emotional reward.’

  The job of Printemps, as de Cesare sees it, is to ensure that customers have access to these elements across many different price points and categories. The store stocks something like 3,000 brands and is constantly reviewing the selection to ensure that the quality requirement is being met at every level. ‘Fashion, elegance and sophistication are within the store’s DNA – elitism is not. Our interpretation of luxury is not to say: “Show me your wallet or you’re not getting in.” It is to invite customers to enjoy a luxurious experience.’

  De Cesare saw the potential of Printemps from the moment he first arrived, two years before our interview. ‘It has always been a popular store, but it felt like it was on autopilot. My ambition was to return it to its rightful status as one of the world’s flagship department stores.’

  The physical transformation of Printemps has attracted considerable media attention. In a section of the store devoted to fashion and accessories, interior architects Yabu Pushelberg ripped out three gloomy, low-ceilinged floors and replaced them with a spectacular atrium filled with air and light. The design is typical of George Yabu and Glenn Pushelberg’s work, which is minimalist without being frosty. ‘They’ve done a great job for department stores like Lane Crawford in Hong Kong, but they’ve also worked on hotels,’ says de Cesare. ‘The hospitality and entertainment elements come through.’

  Yabu and Pushelberg’s work was overseen by the store’s director of architecture, Patrizia Pressimone, a dynamic Italian woman who has worked for brands like Benetton, Celine, Versace and Escada. ‘If a house is a machine for living, to quote Le Corbusier, a store is a machine for spending,’ she says. ‘Nobody has to vis
it a luxury department store, so the trick is to make them want to visit it. And once they’re inside, you want them to stay for a long time – preferably a couple of hours – and hopefully spend some money. And there are various techniques for making sure that happens.’

  Architecture can have a mood-altering effect, she explains. The wide, symmetrical, artfully arranged windows and broad entrances invite you to step inside the store – just for a quick look. Once inside, the air temperature, the lighting and the noble materials that surround you combine to instil a feeling of well-being. The street you’ve just left behind suddenly seems like a more hostile place. In the store, low ceilings and enclosed spaces are a no-no, says Pressimone. ‘What you’re looking for is a sensation of space. The floors above should be visible so the customer can see the rest of the stock, which is just out of their reach. And here’s a handy escalator to sweep them towards it.’

  The unabashed modernism of Printemps’ reconfigured interior contrasts with the façade, which has been restored to its Belle Epoque glory. At 45,000 square metres, with no less than eight cupolas swathed in gold leaf, the palatial store appears to be trying to steal the baroque thunder of the Opéra Garnier just around the corner. Over the years, though, its façade had become grimy and its domes dull. A team of artisans was brought in to put this right. The interior of one of the cupolas was turned into a workshop where the half-forgotten skills of another era became suddenly vital and relevant.

  Paolo de Cesare says: ‘As this is a listed building, we had to use the same material and techniques that the original craftspeople employed. For instance, beneath the gold leaf that covers the cupolas are zinc tiles, which one cannot purchase any more – so we had to produce our own. Similarly, we went to the original supplier in Murano for the stained glass. And we’ve painstakingly uncovered and restored the mosaics that had been painted over or obscured.’

  The contrast between the new atrium and the restored 19th-century façade should have ‘the impact of seeing the glass pyramid outside the Louvre’, says de Cesare.

  He also wanted to indulge an obsession with service that he developed while living in Japan. ‘I became really spoiled there,’ he recalls. ‘There are certain places I go back to now and they still remember my name – it’s phenomenal. For me it was an absolute priority that the customers should feel welcome.’

  This meant introducing a valet parking service, a revamped loyalty card scheme and a team of personal shoppers, as well as a series of VIP lounges where customers can discuss their retail therapy needs in private. More radically, Printemps became the first department store in France to introduce a concierge service. French residents pay an annual fee of €1,500 for the privilege – but on the presentation of their passports, overseas customers get free-of-charge access to a personal assistant and a 24/7 telephone service. In the style of a grand hotel, the concierge can do everything from reserving restaurant tables and booking theatre seats to getting you on the VIP list of a nightclub or finding a babysitter.

  As de Cesare observes, however, good service is not just about innovations like the concierge service – or even about inviting the holders of loyalty cards to exclusive soirées. The everyday sales staff must be on the ball, too. ‘We discovered that some of the staff were nervous about dealing with demanding customers, so we’ve developed a training programme to put that right. We stage role-playing sessions and give them advice on appearance and make-up. We also put a great deal of emphasis on product knowledge. Being a good salesperson is all about having absolute confidence in yourself and the products you are selling.’

  In Japan, he had always been impressed by the way in-store beauty advisors were the perfect ambassadors for brands, even though they weren’t on commission. ‘They felt that representing their brand to the best of their ability was the minimum requirement of the job.’

  Speaking of brands, Printemps also tweaked its external image. A few months after his arrival, de Cesare asked Stephen Gan – the co-founder of the influential Visionaire magazine – to devise a new advertising look for the store. Working with the photographer David Sims, Gan created a series of double-panel print and poster ads. Each execution featured a close-up of a model’s face, next to a long shot of the same model in a cutting-edge outfit. If the images resemble glossy magazine spreads, this is no coincidence: Printemps is actively seeking a fashion-oriented brand positioning. The look was carried over to the store’s website and a customer magazine. ‘The previous image had a fairytale feel about it,’ says de Cesare. ‘I believe we’ve updated it by about 50 years.’

  If the repositioning of Printemps succeeds, its new owners will have synthesized the glamorous retail landscape of the 19th century with an experiential, contemporary take on luxury. And in an age when window shopping can be done with the click of a mouse, that may be what it takes to persuade customers to come and see what’s in store.

  12

  Digital luxury

  * * *

  ‘We have deluded ourselves that online is not relevant to our customers.’

  Toss a crystal goblet in Paris and the chances are you’ll hit a luxury conference. The organization and hosting of these events is a minor industry here, supported by legions of ‘luxury consultants’ who pad out the lists of attendees. At a certain point la crise – as the French press called the economic crisis – distracted the luxury brands from their other great concern: what to do about the internet? It seemed not to have occurred to them that the two subjects were intimately linked.

  In late 2006, long before there was any wisp of a cloud on the luxury horizon, I attended the World Luxury Congress at the Hotel George V. While the rest of the retail world buzzed with the possibilities of Web 2.0, the luxury giants were still struggling to get to grips with its first iteration. Brands like Swarovski and Theo Fennell – a London jeweller – spoke of many different ways of enhancing their image, from product placement in movies to unequalled customer service. But nobody mentioned the benefits of going online.

  Significantly, the web first reared its head in a discussion about counterfeit goods. Journalist Tim Philips, author of the book Knock-Off: The true story of the world’s fastest growing crime wave, published the previous year, pointed out that by not having a strong presence online, luxury brands were unwittingly encouraging consumers to buy fakes from other websites. ‘You are effectively franchising out your brands,’ he stated, to dark mutterings from his audience.

  Of course, there were means of buying luxury goods online. Net-A-Porter, to name one, was an outstanding success. Created in June 2000 by Natalie Massenet, a former fashion editor of the UK magazine Tatler, it had been voted retail space of the year during the British Fashion Awards a couple of years previously. Since then it had achieved cult status among tech-savvy fashionistas.

  But the luxury brands had largely shied away the idea of setting up transactional websites, preferring to use the web as a shop window – and often not a very exciting one. Louis Vuitton had only recently allowed consumers to buy a selection of items online. Others insisted that, to get the full luxury experience, consumers must visit their stores.

  In a conversation shortly after the conference, Marie Laver, a senior strategist at the media planning and buying agency Initiative, told me: ‘Selling luxury goods online is a huge challenge. Luxury purchases are highly sensory in nature, which is clearly difficult to replicate in the online world.’ She added that a successful e-retail environment needed to incorporate three key elements: strong visual and aural clues, personal service, and interactivity.

  Back at the event, luxury industry commentator Carol Brodie, who gloried in the exquisite title of ‘chief luxury officer’ at the magazine The Robb Report, presented herself as a typical example of a new kind of luxury shopper. ‘I’m a shopaholic – but now I have children and I’m time poor, I shop online,’ she told congress attendees. ‘And I’m addicted to Net-A-Porter. For me, receiving one of those boxes is a luxury experience in itself.’
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  Popular fashion website Style.com, the online home of Vogue and W, among others, had forged a series of advertising partnerships with luxury brands, allowing visitors to click through to their websites. But that did not necessarily lead to a buying experience. Dee Salomon, Style.com’s managing director, said, ‘There is... the feeling that customers are much more likely to transact at the point of sale, where they have a chance to really look at the product.’

  Upscale retailers agreed. Michael Ward, CEO of Harrods, felt that a website could never replicate ‘the emotional experience’ of picking up a trinket in his store. Joseph Wan, CEO of Harvey Nichols, a ritzy chain of department stores, was of a similar opinion. ‘I don’t think an online brand that doesn’t have any bricks and mortar presence will ever be able to challenge a luxury retailer.’

  It was a familiar viewpoint. Despite the increasing prominence of digital tools in the everyday lives of consumers, luxury goods manufacturers felt that the internet removed the exclusivity and personal touch of the physical environment. Ironically, though, offering a uniquely personal service is something websites excel at – who hasn’t looked at their ‘personal recommendations’ on Amazon.com? Instead of viewing the internet as a poor cousin to the shop window, it seemed clear that luxury companies needed to start experimenting with enriched content like video clips, interactivity and one-to-one dialogue with customers.