Marketers regularly suggest that "brand loyalty" explains many of our choices.
Does it?
We rarely are referred to as "creatures of loyalty," but constantly are called "creatures of habit." Our choices reflect this. Our choices become our habits, and our habits comfort us; they bring the illusion of order to our messy lives.
We spend several years picking up Listerine, Colgate with whitening, and Glad Wrap sandwich bags. After years of building those habits, we don't even consider Lavoris, Crest with tartar control, or Ziplocs. It's not that we are loyal to the other products. We just reach their aisles and reach for them out of habit. Choosing them feels comfortable. Just thinking about the others makes us anxious.
It's "brand habit."
So the recent New York Times story about the Little Soap That Could, Camay, should surprise no one. Once marketed as the soap of beautiful women, Camay is so quaintly perfumed that it no longer sells well-except to women who grew up with it. These women, now in their 60's and older, grew so accustomed to Camay's pink hue and perfumed scent that in recent months they've learned how to buy things online, just so they can keep using Camay.
These women buy so much Camay online, in fact, that CleaningProductsWorld.com features Camay on its home page. It's that site's top-selling product.
Like colleges near our parent's homes and cities that begin with our last name's first letter, choosing and using Camay feels comfortable to these women. And it's our desire for comfort, not brand loyalty, that explains hundreds of our choices--including those made by the people whose three quotes appeared in my first post in this column, "The Surprising Clout of Comfort":
"I loved the legroom"
"It tastes rich and chocolaty'
"It looked strong in my major."
Those were reasons that three friends recently gave for choosing a Toyota Camry, Sumatran coffee, and the University of Minnesota respectively.
It turns out that was my friend's fourth Camry, the same Sumatran coffee the woman had consumed for over six years, and a college just 90 minutes from the young woman's hometown in central Minnesota.
Sometimes we choose what seems "best." But more often, we choose what those people chose:
We choose what feels comfortable.
Note: Camay also is responsible for a banned commercial so quaint, yet so reflective of its times, that you shouldn't miss it. Hyperlink: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdP5eNr_a9o
