Articles & Publications
The inevitable insider
(Source - Times Of India dated 16 Jun 2007, Page: 23, Section: Consumer Edge)
“I think you should drape this a little lower. It’ll suit your height,” said Ashokbhai, the salesman, to Reema, adopting the tone of a confidante. Before long, he took the pink saree from her, pleated it with deft hands and draped it swiftly about her. He tied it at the waist, over her jeans and looked around for approval to Reema’s friends Preety and Pari, who smiled and nodded.
The threesome, Reema, Preety and Pari had come out on that Saturday afternoon to buy sarees for a friend’s wedding. As they entered the large saree shop, Ashokbhai, one of the store salesmen, greeted them with a slight nod and welcomed them into the store. ‘What type of sarees’, ‘for what occasion’, ‘for whom’, were questions with which Ashokbhai quickly decided which section of the store was most appropriate for what they were looking for. Within minutes the threesome were chatting, pointing in different directions and deciding their purchase.
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Expert opinions:
Ashokbhai began suggesting sarees and colours. ‘For your height’, he said to the tall Reema, ‘a broader temple border will look nice’. Reema smiled at her friends. ‘What about this colour’, he added, ‘this looks right for your complexion’. Reema was lightly fingering the pale pink and fire coloured silk. A few more options and ‘let me show you’ from Ashokbhai made Reema see the saree draped on her rather than as a swath of fabric arranged fan shape in the salesman’s hands or draped about a mannequin. She modelled for her own saree and was surer about the choice and happier with the result.
Ashokbhai was allowed entry by Reema into her personal space. He appeared to have a license otherwise denied to any other male and a stranger. Salesmen like Ashokbhai are the ‘experts’ that make them the shopper’s confidante. The admiring looks of her friends and the detached, yet involved and appreciative look of the salesman are the looking glass through which a woman assesses her purchase. The salesman’s ‘male gaze’ is a surrogate for what her other family members might think of her choice. Being a man is an advantage rather than a handicap in this shopping process. |
Friendly, but not familiar:
The customer, her friends, and the salesman form a complete evaluation unit, to the exclusion of all others in that store. A curious glance of a fellow-shopper is a breach of privacy, but not the appreciative look of the salesman. He is now an integral part of this team of young women, who outside the store might not even notice him. He adopts the tone of a confidante when he suggests the cut of blouse that will suit the saree. The customer and her friends are usually happy to get such advice. The manner and tone are polite; the expression is studied, mainly focused on the saree, the salesman’s subject.
Ashokbhai then moved to Preety’s saree, and the girls were even more comfortable. Ashokbhai had judged from the girls’ conversation that his customer loved peacock blue and was back to pleating the saree. Soon he draped it about her skirt and Preety was not in the slightest bit uncomfortable as he directed her to tuck it a little lower than the belt of her skirt. He knew that draping a saree was not an everyday event for young women, and a little instruction was needed.
A matter of trust:
Like Ashokbhai in the saree shop, Lalit Kumar, a peddler in a UP village gets insider status into Parvati’s shopping, when he helps her put on the red and gold glass bangles. Parvati has been buying bangles from Lalit Kumar who visits the village every other month, for years now. He could never cross any bounds of decency with ‘didi’. He is visible when needed, turning invisible the moment after the purchase and the payment is made. Parvati is not uncomfortable under the man’s touch as he guides the bangles down her slightly plump hands.
Whether he sells lingerie, sarees, chappals or gold, the salesman grows within moments of the shopping transaction to become the inevitable insider to the Indian shopper. His ability to strike a conversation, demonstrate understanding and expertise, build trust, and bond with the shopper while becoming her ‘looking glass’—all these are ingredients in his effort to make a successful sale. Where else does a convention-bound society such as ours allow for the establishment of such quick comfort between genders?
Modern shopping formats growing rapidly in our cities need to recognise this typical ethos of ‘personal privacy’ in India that includes friends, family and often the Inevitable Insider, that salesman who becomes a useful close friend, during the sales transaction. The Indian shopper needs and respects the expert advisor. She is used to being understood, pampered and looked after.
Will the facelessness of modern stores that allow the shopper so much personal space that it borders on indifference, alienate her at times? Perhaps some store will soon realise that it is worth doing store layouts and trial rooms with a difference, especially for selling ethnic wear to women. We are watching Reema and Preety as they chat across the trial room walls. Ashokbhai is draping the pink silk onto Pari inside the large trial room. The curious fellow shopper is kept out; the rest, including Ashokbhai, are insiders.
The authors are senior marketing professionals. They can be reached on shoptalk@indiatimes.com
- Deepa Soman & Damodar Mall
David vs Goliath: Round 2
(Source - Times Of India dated 05 May 2007, Section: Shop Talk)
 Daamjibhai Cheda is a permanent presence at his kirana store. Few people know his real name, yet everyone knows this 40-something owner of Ashapura Stores, a popular landmark in a growing locality of Navi Mumbai. Cheda set up this store in 1998, when the locality had only a handful of occupied buildings and the streets were deserted. He named his store after the ‘Ashapura’, a family deity. In no time, for the new residents of the locality, he became Ashapura Uncle.
To all appearances, he’s just a grocer. But he’s much more than that. He is a valuable anchor to the new residents in the community. He is knowledgeable and pleasant. At times he doubles up as housemaid agent, estate agent and school advisory, and can even refer reliable electricians and plumbers to the residents!
Cheda could be dealing with the housemaid one moment and the patriarch of a joint family the next. In each case, his tone of voice, his language, his idiom, his body language adjusts to the customer across his counter. To Shantabai who works in the building above, his tone is slightly bossy. He changes to being efficient and businesslike when Mr. Rao is around. When little Aryan comes holding a ten rupee note, he’ll stand up and bend forward and his tone will turn a little indulgent, amused, and patronizing. To the newly married girl just moved in, he is helpful and indulgent.
That’s the magic of Ashapura Uncle. He becomes ‘parent’ interacting with the ‘parent’ when he deals with well-to-do senior citizens. He is ‘adult’, matter of fact, rational when he deals with young adults.
Where does he gain this knowledge that psychology books call “Transaction Analysis”?
He knows the brands Mrs. Dev buys, and can often remember details like how much she buys normally, and quickly computes when she bought last, what she bought and how much, and what she might need to top up. He reminds her of things she might otherwise have missed. He has already added a service where you can pay telephone and electricity bills and you can also charge your prepaid phones there.
The transactions are a part of his subconscious, and they demonstrate a practiced and masterful understanding of the customer, of her moods and her emotions. Instinctively, Ashapura Uncle can relate to his customer at an individual level and deal with her particular needs.
There are thousands of Ashapura Uncles all around us. They are all faced with the challenges of modern malls and supermarkets with technology, better buying practices, more advertising and larger discounts, but we think these minnows will surprise the malls and all of us with the adaptability, the flexibility and the strength of their ‘social capital’ that has been built over the years. The ability to become what his customer likes best and knowledge of what and how she buys gives them their cutting edge.
As long as Ashapura Uncle can build deep bonds with his customers, he will be around as a community fixture. He is a thoroughbred entrepreneur. This breed learns, adapts and responds fast. The clincher is the amazing ‘can do’ service attitude. Malls can’t beat the masterful spirit of the thousands of Ashapura Uncles that are an integral part of our urban lives.
The authors are senior marketing professionals. They can be reached on shoptalk@indiatimes.com
- Deepa Soman & Damodar Mall
'The seven ages of the woman shopper'
(Source - Times Of India dated 31 Mar 2007, Page: 21, Section: Consumer Edge)
A woman’s shopping basket is a reflection of her evolution over time. It answers questions like ‘How does she shop?’ and ‘What does she shop for?’ Her role, status in the family, education, life stage, exposure, mobility and economic independence are seven key drivers that define the woman as reflected in her shopping.
As if mirroring the Indian shopping landscape, dotted with multiple shopping formats, an extended Indian family shows up distinct profiles of shoppers and a gamut of evolutionary possibilities in the same time zone.
Invisible Woman:
Shakuntala Devi lives in a small town in UP. As a young bride in a joint family 60 years ago, she has been putting away the groceries bought by her husband or brother-in-law. She has accepted the sindoor, kajal, talcum powder as a treat whenever she received it and doesn’t remember ever asking for anything.
Some of these cosmetics she received as gifts from her mother’s family when she visited home twice a year. She is unaware of the mechanics of shopping, of planning for, choosing, asking for, paying and finally carrying back her shopping.
List Woman:
As the younger daughter-inlaw in the same household, Nirmala has a sixth class education that prepares her to plan for the shopping. She can collaborate with the mother-in-law and feels important as she checks on the provisions that need replenishment. She prepares a list in which she includes the soap she needs for herself and the toy she wants for her son. The monthly budget, prioritising purchases, working out trade-offs , brand choices are the male prerogative.
Budget Woman:
A younger daughter of this family, Malati, has moved to a metro in the North. Wife of a garment shop owner , she is the first generation shopper. She gets a fixed amount each month in which to manage the household budget. She believes thrift, buying in wholesale, bargaining and buying only what she needs are virtues. She is proud of her frugality.
Anxiety and guilt of overstepping the budget dominate her thinking and she is aware that she is spending hard earned money. She has discovered temptation when she buys personal care items and the pangs of denial of little pleasures.
Value Woman:
A little younger, Reena is similar to the Budget Woman and likes to buy smart. Leftover amounts from her budget are ‘her rightful income’ meant for her personal indulgences. It makes her feel confident and smart when she buys an occasional salwar kameez. She can justify small indulgences to herself well. She is discreet about her personal shopping and will reveal it at a ‘safe’ time.
Independent Woman:
The Budget Woman’s daughter, Bharati, is in her mid 30s. Thanks to tuitions, she earns Rs 5,000 a month. She likes to shop at a grocery store nearby. Her husband is a busy man who she believes must not be bothered with grocery shopping. She likes to make her list, uses cash, and now that she has an add-on credit card, uses it at the nearby supermarket that gives her home delivery. She feels independent. New discoveries in shopping makes Bharati feel like a new woman.
Ally Woman:
The Independent Woman’s younger sister, Reshma, works at the bank. Her husband and she invariably shop together. They take turns with the trolley, pick up groceries and personal care brands for themselves and for each other, are lured by smart displays, and are curious and willing to sample a new soup that the promoter invites them to try.
They discover new foods, exotic fruit and vegetables and are happy shoppers with plenty. They believe they enjoy first world comforts in this supermarket and that it’s the best time to be in India. The Ally Woman uses shopping as an expression of her relationship with her husband, putting her on equal footing and enjoying the warmth of companionship that the store allows.
Next Gen Woman:
The Ally Woman’s sister-in-law, Pooja, is in her early 20s. She has a complete handle on shopping and thinks of it as entertainment. She buys her own clothes and cosmetics with friends to buffer her decisions. She has decided that the family will use less oil, and has bought more expensive healthier branded oil. She has introduced a sugar substitute, milk powder, tea bags, readymade spices, and even ready-to-serve vegetables. She has brought about myriad changes in the way the family cooks, eats and spends.
Every Indian extended family has all or many of these women. They might all meet at a wedding and we might find them at the food court of an urban mall, talking and mulling over hustle, noise, bright lights and colour, and thinking ‘the world has really changed’ .
The authors are senior marketing professionals. They can be reached on shoptalk@indiatimes.com
- Deepa Soman & Damodar Mall
'Shopping for daily needs is no longer a chore to be quickly dispensed with'
(Source - Times Of India dated 27th Februaty 2007, Page: 23, Section: Consumer Edge)
SHOP TALK
"Where Prema was a sole shopper for her family, she was picking up signs and signals around her with ,her own senses, now there is an interesting multiplier at play when the family shops as a threesome. The extra,pairs of eyes, hands and ears are
attuned to different stimuli, driven by their own interests, needs, wants and temptations"
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Premaji, how many times have you visited a Hypermarket,alone?" She says, never. "How many times do you shop at a neighbourhood grocer, alone?" Her answer: "Always, of course."
Between these two questions lie huge implications for how the emerging modern retailers design their stores for the Indian market. Let's walk with Prema and count the aankhen (eyes) and haath (hands) that she has while she shops.
Kailash, her husband, drives Prema and their daughter Vinita, a bubbly 10 year old, in their new Maruti 800, for their monthly shopping trip to the new modern bazaar in their neighbourhood in Ahmedabad. Prema likes to carry a shopping list,
since she knows Kailash could lose patience sometimes, and she needs to cover her "must buy" items for the month.
Vinita is always the first one to run into the store and pull out a trolley. It always starts with the supermarket section of the store, with Prema picking up her usual toiletries and things for the home. Vinita is always attracted to the biscuits and
snacks sections.Though only 10, she is smart enough to pick out the offer on her favourite chocolate biscuits and get her mummy to add them to the trolley. She is likely to meander into aisles and Kailash keeps a watchful eye on her.
A little later, the trolley is smoothly passed on to Kailash, who is happy to play the 'gatherer' of the goodies the mother and daughter duo hunt from the jungle of shelves and bins. He is partially involved in their frantic activity and keeps
checking out an occasional new product or offer that catches his attention. This Saturday, a tea tasting stall catches his eyes - he lastes the tea and puts one box in the trolley, his personal contribution to the household shopping.
Prema heads to the rice counter, and soon has some doubt about the difference in price between two varieties of rice. She calls out to Kailash and they decide on which one is of better qUality. Prema discovers that her favourite Kashmiri chillies
are missing from the aisle. Again Kailash comes to her aid by sending the store assistant to look for the chillies.
Where Prema was a sole shopper for her family, she was picking up signs and signals around her with her own senses, now there is an interesting multiplier at play when the family shops as a threesome. The extra pairs of eyes, hands and ears are
attuned to different stimuli, driven by their own interests, needs, wants and temptations.While prema picks things that are familiar and tested, Kailash and Vinita are less fettered by habit and more inclined to explore and pick up new things, new
deals.
Prema and kailash shopping behaviour is reflacted across thousands on Indian families who are getting used to the modern way of shopping The family, or sometimes friends and neighbours, shop as a unit. Every member of the famiiy helps take decisions.
They depend a lot on each other rather than the store assistants. They are not confused by the plethora of messages and inputs coming at them within the store. Rather they revel in them.
The Premas In India are not in the 'do aankhen, do haath' mode anymore. Instead, they have been transformed into 'cheh aankhen, baara haath', as they come to the stores equipped with myriad senses, multiple temperaments, multiple needs and
wants, all shopping together.
'Prema's contemporary in Toronto;'Brenda, invariably shops alone, in the 'do aankhen, do haath' manner. Sure enough, the designs of stores that serve Prema and Brenda can't possibly be the same.
In the last trip, Kailash noticed a large banner, displayed in another section, promoting an offer on a non-stick pan. He remembered Prema saying that they could do with a new one. Kailash decided to step across the aisle to the household goods
section and check out the offer. In the end, Kailash's small distraction resulted in they buying the pan.
Stores like the modern bazaar above that throw lots of stimuli, sometimes distracting, at the shopper are likely to benefit from one of Prema's 'extra' senses picking them up and thus leading to a sale. Anyone who shops with kids knows too well the
impact of such 'distractions' on the shopping basket.
The other hands that help Prema include the store helper who reaches her bags to her car, the building watchman who happily carries them up to her apartment and then the part-time cook who helps her in arranging her purchases and also in tasks of
the kitchen like chopping, kneading, and so on. The Premas of India are and will continue to be well endowed with their "cheh aankhen, baara haath" in the foreseeable future.
In this phase of shopping evolution, the aspiring class in India is enjoying the new celebration of choice and discovery that modern retail offers.
Shopping for daily needs is far from being a humdrum chore to be quickly dispensedwith, like it is for Brenda. The shared responsibility of choices and indulgences also means family bonding and fun. The shopping multiplier of "cheh aankhen baara
haath" is here to stay.
Retailers who understand this, and buiid their stores to service the well-resourced, easy going customers, will be rewarded. Retailers who launch small, narrow range, sanitised stores to help customers 'finish the chore of shopping' quickly, are
likely to miss a trick in the great indian celebration of consumption creation.
The authors are senior marketing professionals. They can be reached on shoptalk@indiatimes.com
- Deepa Soman & Damodar Mall
OF TULSI AND BHINDI BUYING
(Source - Times Of India dated 29th July 2006, Page: 22, Section: Consumer Edge)
What is it about malls that keeps middle class India coming back for more? Surprisingly, it is the same thing that has kept them glued to Kyunki Saas Bhi… for over six years—traditional values
Poonam Sharma lives with her in-laws in East Delhi. Both daughter-in-law and mother-in-law are done with the housework by noon and then move into a different world. They start their joint viewing of Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi (KSBKBT) at 3:30 pm, when they are ready to watch the trials and tribulations of the Sita archetype of Indian TV, Tulsi Virani.
Meena Shah, 34, her husband, motherin-law and two daughters aged 12 and 6, live in one room in a chawl in central Mumbai. The ‘living room’ is partitioned off and makes up a space of about 100 sq ft. It houses a small cooking area, a single bed and a colour TV on top of a small cupboard. The family likes to eat together to the accompaniment of their favourite TV serial.
Meena Shah and her family are bombarded with overwhelming visuals of TV characters dressed in opulent silks and heavy jewellery, fine furnishings and grandiose sets. They see picture perfect homes every day. Meena can laugh, cry and escape into this ‘other home’ that becomes their home for at least four to five hours every day. She is not there though she wants to be. The old ‘have not’ mentality is gradually giving way to ‘why not’. Why not me…
KSBKBT, the longest running soap opera on television, has had families glued to the set for over six years. The serial has the lowest percentage of lapsing (people who have given up watching it). When you dissect the stickiness of the serial, there emerges an overwhelming connect with the lead character, Tulsi. Viewers empathise with her lot and live her travails. They want to protect her from the villains that surround her and distort an otherwise perfect joint family where people follow sanskaar, respect their elders and follow tradition or reeti-rivaj.
People may forget parts of the storyline, but the traditional greetings, the way festivals are celebrated together, the importance of the kitchen, the family eating together… are all threads that are vividly remembered. The customs followed by Tulsi are those that women across the country would like to follow in their daily lives as well. After all, reeti-rivaj has no class barriers.
From razzle-dazzle…
The opulence of Tulsi’s surroundings is a lot like the new world of malls springing up across the country. The modern world of large, opulent, glamourous shops and malls. They are now in plenty in all metros and rapidly knocking at the doors of the Nashiks, Durgapurs and Ambalas of India.
Bharati Shukla, 32, of Lucknow , discov ered this new world almost accidentally. There was a power cut one afternoon in her colony and she had a three hour time slot during which she watched her serials, with nothing to do. She asked her sister-in-law to get ready and they took a rickshaw to the new mall they had heard of. “We'll just look around and pass time. The place must be expensive, and for the rich,” said the smart sister-in-law, on the way to the mall.
As they stepped into the mall, the big welcoming signages and cool whiff of airconditioned air made them forget the stuffy heat and unlit darkness at home. Bharati took a while getting used to the big staircases and escalators.
…to familiar surroundings
Everything looked out of reach, until they came across a tiny store that sold “mukhwas—the traditional mouth freshener”. Over a 100 varieties were displayed in white bowls, with a small spoon in each.
Bharati was tentatively looking at the spread when the man at the counter invited them to taste the offerings on display. Bharati was reminded of the local paanwala and she instantly felt more comfortable. They tried out a few flavours and made their first purchase in the mall—a box of mouth freshener.
Now, a bit more relaxed, they looked around all kinds of stores, even asked for the prices of some things. They were surprised to see in a supermarket food grains heaped in drums, just like the local kirana shop. Bharati also noticed that sugar was a rupee cheaper than at her regular shop. There was a crowd of women at the section selling vegetables in that store.
“Bina Mausi!” shouted Bharati, pointing to a middle aged lady standing next to the heap of bhindi. To Bharati’s amazement, ‘Mausi’ was filling green bhindi in a basket and breaking the ends of some of them to check for freshness, just as they all did at the local vegetable vendor.
Bharati couldn’t resist joining the melee, and the two women found, much to their amazement, that they had bought a week’s requirement of vegetables in a few moments, at prices that were certainly competitive.
The virtues of a tradition of thrift and value
In a subsequent trip Bharati discovered that not only at the supermarket, but also at some other stores in the mall, she could find things for the house, clothes for the entire family that were affordable and well within her means.
Now the combination of grandeur and richness that a new Indian mall offers, even in the small towns, and value consciousness in some of the stores in it, has Bharati hooked. She flocks to the mall for all her regular needs and is reluctant to visit the older small stores in her neighbourhood.
She is no longer overawed by the modern and opulent ambience of the mall. She has discovered that within this opulence rest the traditional values of thrift and value that she has been raised to respect. As long as those values are available to her, she will continue to haunt the malls. The custom of buying at the best value is ingrained in Bharati. She will never let go of it. And she likes it that the glitzy mall also hasn’t let go of this custom.
Well, the message from middle India is the same, whether it's in the afternoon serials they are loyal to or in their choice of big stores they are thronging to. We are comfortable in our customs, rituals, palates, tastes and are not in too much of a hurry to change things that we hold dear in our way of life. Connect with it, service it and we'll vote with our hearts and wallets.
- Deepa Soman & Damodar Mall
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