DeeDee Gordon is one of my colleagues at Sterling Brands. DeeDee arrived at Sterling in the fall of 2010, and she has taken a lead role in helping companies to innovate new products, create compelling consumer experiences, and reenvision brands entirely. She developed a reputation early on in her career for spotting trends that gave companies precisely the information they needed to tap into existing and emerging consumer inclinations. Her company Look-Look, which she cofounded in 1999, was twenty thousand leagues ahead of the curve in the trendspotting arena. Look-Look developed a whole new model of how to research and forecast trends through a curated network of linked-in trendspotters and correspondents. The consultancy broke ground in using all the trappings of 21st-century digital media to get a live feed of on-the-ground intelligence.
At Sterling Brands, she is devoted to innovation, though she continues to focus on sensing the thoughts, memes, trends, and yearnings relating to the young generation of consumers. The digital tools that are so second nature to this generation—Facebook, texting, Twitter—have become a manifestation of the young person’s search for authenticity, and DeeDee notes that this applies not only to their own identities but to their perspective on brands. Teens and tweens are deeply concerned with whether brands are being “authentic,” and the vast amount of information available on the Internet helps them evaluate this authenticity. DeeDee’s litmus test in this category are Nike, Muji, Patagonia, Apple: exemplars of brands that have stayed true to their mission.
Not only is the young generation vastly more informed about brands than previous generations, but DeeDee notes that today’s youngsters have much better taste, since they’ve grown up in a culture where design was much more valued, and accessible, than in the past. This is an important observation for brand managers, designers, and anthropologists alike. In essence, the evolution of branding has brought about a revolution of design that further accelerates the evolution of branding and visual culture.
DeeDee has a visceral sense of the way that brands can make us swoon—how they can seduce us, get under our skin. She has an understanding of the emotions and even pride that arises when we become a member of a brand “club” through our consumer purchases. I think she has a distinctively Generation X insight into the way that irony works in our relationship with brands and the ambivalence we have about joining a group. She gets how we succumb to irony, embrace it, resist it, transcend it.
As is evident in her career history, DeeDee’s forte is for identifying and articulating cultural dynamics that other people wouldn’t see, and then determining how to transform those into a business strategy. She is able to ferret out the subtle and sometimes more overt dynamics that shape our culture, when other people would see these as solitary instances unrelated to a larger logic. That is a reflection of her rare and remarkable talent for “pattern recognition,” which she conveys through a vocabulary—“macro trends,” “smug alert,” and all the rest—that helps us see these patterns through her eyes.
It might seem an odd admission for a brand strategist to make, but DeeDee acknowledges in this interview that her favorite brands are the “no-brand brands.” But that’s not to say that those brands don’t have identity. They establish their identities precisely through unmistakable visual sensibilities. There were other contradictions that we explored in our conversation, among them the very nature of what brand consultants do. It’s meaningful to see how this inner conflict provides an important touchstone for her work, just as an understanding of irony is essential for speaking with authenticity to twenty- and thirtysomethings.
Though others feel that brands do a lot of damage in the world—or are undertaking their social initiatives as a way to assuage their guilty consciences—DeeDee supports the freedom of the marketplace, in which companies make what consumers will buy, without an external authority determining what’s “right” or “Wrong.” She admits that she herself feels drawn to companies that stand for noble causes, and she recognizes that extraordinary power that brands have to do good and to implement ways of doing business that can change the world for the better. “If we can utilize the power of big corporation to make the world a better place, why shouldn’t we?”
You recently made a big change in the type of work that you’re doing—you were one of the pioneers in trendspotting, but now you’re working in new product development and innovation. Why?
It doesn’t really feel like that big of a change. I’ve been working in the arena of consumer insights for over twenty years. I actually began my career in product development. Creating products and coming up with new ideas has always been exciting to me.
How do you come up with new ideas? How do you come up with ideas for products that have never been made before?
A lot of it comes from closely observing culture, and seeing how consumers are engaging with existing products and brands, and then looking for “White space” and any gaps relating to people’s needs.
How do you find these “need gaps”?
There is no easy answer, but I think that first you have to scour the culture and dive deep into a category or an idea. I need to know everything about the category or idea, and I conduct a lot of secondary desk research, sorting through the research that already exists. This is all a prelude to going on the road, where I immerse myself in various cultures and observe categories—of products or the relevant theme—within different groups and environments, and with different types of people. I talk to consumers about products, concepts, and ideas. From there, I’m able to identify need gaps and find new areas to expand into.
Now what I’m going to ask you will make you roll your eyes, but it has to be asked.
Oh no.
I know. I’m sorry. But—is it possible for you to define “cool”?
No.
Okay, then, next question . . .
Are you serious? Define “cool”?
Yes. Can you?
I don’t think I can. I’ve actually never been asked that question.
If you can’t define it, can you tell me how people know when something is cool?
I think cool is different for everybody. It’s completely subjective, and that’s what makes it so wonderful.
But there are certain things that seem to be universally acknowledged as cool by a large group of people. Apple is an example, or a certain brand of sneaker, or a handbag. How does that happen? How does something inanimate become designated as cool?
It triggers an emotional connection. It feels transformative. It feels life-changing.
What do you mean by life-changing?
I don’t know about you, but the first time I walked into an Apple store, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Why?
It felt beautiful. I felt as though I had found a place and a sensibility that understood me. It understood my interests and my aesthetic and my vision. That felt transformative.
What do you think the brand understood about you?
It understood my need to feel engaged, my need for participating, and my need for a clean, minimalist aesthetic. I may not adhere to this sensibility in my everyday life, but it’s something that I am drawn to in nearly everything I use for inspiration, especially for my job.
In that sense, do you think that the design of Apple’s products is fundamental to the brand’s success?
Yes. The fact is that Steve Jobs created a design that is user-friendly—he made it playful, and he made it beautiful and interesting. But I must also confess that my favorite brands are the ones that are the no-brand brands.
But Apple’s not a no-brand brand.
It isn’t, but you don’t really have to see an Apple logo on an iPod to know that it’s an iPod. You can put it next to four different MP3 players and instantly recognize the iPod. The brand provides such a strong visual language that you don’t ever need to see an Apple logo on any of the products. I can identify an Apple monitor from across the room. This is a testament to the brand’s design and visual language, and I think most of the brands that I’m interested in have a similar sensibility. You’re able to identify them without ever having to see a badge, logo, color combination, or any type of sign.
There are very few brands that can be identified without any type of label. Cars and candy are two categories in which certain products are instantly recognizable. Apple is another, but this is not true for the entire computer or electronics category.
Nike is another. There are certain products within the Nike family that if you were to see just a silhouette of them, you would know what the brand is. The Nike Dunk and the Air Force 1 are two examples of that.
Aside from the amount of money put into marketing it, do you think that there’s anything inherently great about Nike’s logo?
It’s very simple. I think it’s the perfect logo for a performance-oriented company committed to innovation.
The Nike swoosh encompasses speed, movement, and simplicity. It is both timeless and modern. And it also is the type of mark that can go on any product and not overshadow the product itself. What I don’t quite understand is why people tattoo the logo onto their bodies. Apparently, there are people who work at Nike and love the company so much that they tattoo the Nike logo on their bodies.
Are you kidding?
No, I’m not. I’m not kidding at all.
How can someone love a brand so much that they’d want to put a permanent mark on their body?
There are many people who are doing this. I’ve heard from several people about women in Japan who undergo plastic surgery to look like Hello Kitty. And I’ve heard it enough that I don’t think it’s just an urban legend. The women supposedly undergo plastic surgery to their eyes and mouth so that they can look like Hello Kitty. This sounds pretty extreme, but you know what? I live in Los Angeles, and every day I drive around Beverly Hills. I’m living in the plastic surgery capital of the world. I’m living in the capital of transformation.
How is it that we’re living in a culture where it’s perfectly okay to do this? What does that say?
Look, the fact is that we have the technology now to do this. We have the technology to make ourselves feel younger, to look younger, and to be younger. As a society, we’re living longer. People now live into their nineties and hundreds. More people are able to stay healthy for longer periods of time. It only makes sense that we should be able to look younger throughout that time period. It doesn’t seem so far-fetched. I do think that some people take it too far. But I’m not opposed to it.
What is it about being young that we find so alluring? Other people on this planet have their own distinct criteria for what people should look like. Members of the Zo’é tribe in Brazil wear a poturu, which is a long wooden plug piercing their bottom lip. Padaung females wear neck coils from the time they’re two years old because of a long-standing cultural ritual, and some adult women have as many as twenty coils stacked around their neck. What is it about the way that we beautify ourselves in American culture that is telling about who we are?
The way you’ve worded your question makes me feel that, as a culture, we are pathetic.
In what way are we pathetic?
Everything that we’re doing is so medical and artificial! There are no inherent customs or rituals built into our behavior. When you refer to tribal behavior, you’re talking about rituals that are a meaningful part of a specific culture. Our behavior is more superficial. Though it’s technologically innovative and clinically sterile—in terms of the process we use for this kind of modification—it feels dirty and unnecessary.
Ironically, when humans first started beautifying themselves, we were trying to make ourselves more attractive to God. Now, we do it to feel better about ourselves, period.
But this brings us back to what is considered “cool.” I don’t know that we’re any closer to defining it, but I wonder why, as a species, we seek it so ceaselessly.
It’s a way to find community. It’s a way of belonging. It’s a way to connect. When you find something that’s cool that other people like, and you’re all drinking the same Kool-Aid, it’s a great feeling to have, and it’s a way to build your own community. That might not answer your question, but it’s the best explanation I can give to describe our drive to be part of things that make us feel good about who we are.
Do you remember the book Bridget Jones’s Diary?
Yes.
In the book, Bridget refers to happily married couples who have children as the “smug marrieds.” In many ways, she wants to be part of this club, yet she’s also disdainful of it.
Yes. My husband and I use this term all the time to describe couples we know. One of the funniest episodes of the show South Park happens to be titled “Smug Alert.” The show is about the people who live in San Francisco and drive hybrid cars. In the episode, they’re so smug that they smell their own farts. The characters are at a cocktail party, and they literally put their heads between their legs and inhale as they fart. The best part of the program is when there’s a “smug alert warning” sent out over San Francisco because of a huge cloud of smug.
This segues perfectly into my next question. After the iPod was introduced in 2001, you could instantly identify anyone who had one because they were wearing the then-distinctive white earbuds. I couldn’t help but notice the palpable smugness exchanged between random iPod owners when they recognized that they were wearing the same earbuds.
Yes.
I witnessed the experience and also participated in it. What is that about? What is it about this shared experience that promotes smugness?
Look, you’re talking to someone who has lived it. You both realize that you’ve recognized the same thing about this object and the experience of it. There’s something really beautiful in that. Especially when two people are on a subway, mixed in with people from all different walks of life. I see it happen with certain brands that I buy. I remember driving a Prius in Los Angeles and going to a car wash. Somebody else would roll up in a Prius. We would give each other that nod, the nod of smug. And we silently say to each other, “you’ve got one too, right on. You get me, I get you, and we’re not like everybody else.”
But why do we feel smug? Why not joy or wonder?
I think people want to feel and be seen as exclusive and special. The fewer people in the club, so to speak, the more unique you are. And if you encounter another exclusive member, you can mirror the mutuality back and forth. It’s wonderfully narcissistic.
On Fridays before a varsity football game in high school, all the football players would wear their team jerseys, and all the cheerleaders would wear their cheerleading uniforms. There was a definite smug superiority that they conveyed in the communication of their social status. They happily reflected it among each other, but there was also a harsh judgment against those who weren’t in their “club.”
My high school posse looked at those people like they were tools. My crew would sit there and say, “Look at those morons.” Social status is highly subjective, and depends on your personal point of reference.
Because of your work, you interact with thousands of young consumers online every year.
Yes.
Are you finding any common denominators in the brands or experiences that they seek?
Yes. Young people are talking about “authenticity.” Interestingly, if you ask them to define it, they find it difficult to pinpoint what it means. From what I gather, they’re talking about brands being honest and transparent.
Is it really possible for a brand to be honest or authentic if the primary goal is to make money?
I think there’s absolutely a way of being transparent and honest. Look at Patagonia. This is a perfect example of a company that’s able to embody those qualities. If they make a mistake, if they screw up as a brand, they do not hesitate to expose it. Have you ever visited the Footprint Chronicles website? It’s incredible. Patagonia tracks the entire development of their products, from design to delivery. If, in the process, they discover that they’ve inadvertently used some kind of toxic glue that they didn’t realize was toxic, they admit it. They’re the first ones to expose their wrongdoings and mistakes. It’s really refreshing.
If they’re admitting a mistake, they’re being honest. But how does a brand convey authenticity? What is an authentic brand?
First of all, the word “brand” has so many different meanings, and it means so many different things to different people. So it’s very hard to give you a completely objective, textbook definition of what it means. A brand can be the identity of a product, a service, a business, or an experience, and it can include a personality. It can be a logo or a badge or an extension of a person. It can be a sign. It can be a color combination. There’s so many different ways that you can define what a brand is. But remember, at the end of the day, it’s also a way of identifying livestock. It means so many different things in different contexts, and it can also mean nothing. But I define an authentic brand as one that stays true to the mission of why the brand exists. A company like Patagonia lives and breathes their vision in everything that they do. So does a brand like Muji. Sustainability, recycling, and design minimalism are part of every single thing that Muji does.
Even Nike has stayed true to its mission. They’re a performance brand, and they’ve stayed true and authentic to that sensibility. Everything that they design and develop—from products to marketing to experiences—communicates “performance first.” There are many brands that show what it means to be an authentic brand.
You’ve been at the forefront of working with consumers to cocreate new ideas. Do you believe that cocreation is different from crowdsourcing?
Absolutely. Cocreation may have its origins in crowdsourcing, but it’s a totally different concept. I’m not saying that you can’t generate creativity from a crowd, but crowdsourcing lacks the deep relationship that exists when brands cocreate with consumers. There is also a process when you cocreate what is missing in crowdsourcing. It’s this creative process that occurs between brands and their consumers that takes the experience to a whole new level, and it’s what inspires me to do what I do best—which is guide the ideation and realize the innovation.
Creative people and designers are crucial to the cocreation process. They’re the link to interpreting what consumers want, need, and desire. They turn consumer insights into product innovations. Back in the days when all you had were focus groups, the creative team would come up with an idea for a product, and then the brand would hire a company to recruit consumers who would judge it. Inevitably, the design had to be changed, and sometimes not for the better. The system was flawed. Often the environment in which the consumer viewed the idea was artificial and had nothing to do with the concept being considered. There were also issues with how the group was recruited, and, more often than not, one individual would wind up leading the rest of the group in a direction that wasn’t helpful.
How does cocreation help companies?
It’s not enough to produce great creative work. Consumers won’t automatically like an idea just because a brand says so. They need to be part of the creative process—a process that is fluid, organic, and on their own terms. A process like this produces the most useful insights and allows designers to think about products in a whole new way—oftentimes, they’re introduced to entirely new ideas. Consumers can be a designer’s biggest advocates, but only if designers will let the conversation happen and give consumers the respect they deserve by allowing them to have a say.
I’m very passionate about this subject. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen firsthand how great creative ideas can get killed because the focus group facility had a bad recruit or a moderator was too removed from the process. This infuriates me. Consumers expect a deeper level of engagement with the brands they adore. Why not use this to everyone’s benefit? If consumers are already talking about the brand and using the brand, why not allow them to engage on a deeper level?
Are there examples of this that you can point to?
I’ve witnessed moments when a designer and a consumer click, and really understand each other, and it is truly magical. If you bring consumers and designers together at the very beginning of a project, true innovation can occur. But in order for this to work, it’s crucial to find the right people for designers to work with. I consider this to be part of my “secret sauce.” I have a database of fifty thousand people who I’ve selected from all over the world. These are people who are passionate about brands. They’re passionate about being involved, and they are engaged with brands in a more meaningful way than others. They want to be part of the entire product development process—they want to talk about why something works and why it doesn’t, why they think it’s beautiful, and why they think it’s ugly. They want to have input. When you bring a consumer into this process, it’s almost as though you have a built-in marketing team when you launch the product. You have a group of people who already feel invested in the product and want to see it become successful.
It would be interesting to find out if certain demographics are more open to this process than other groups. But let’s talk about young people: Do you think that the young consumer of this era is fundamentally different from the consumers who we were when we were growing up?
Yes, absolutely. They have access to more information. They’re more connected. They’re inquisitive and curious, and they do their research. And they figure out who’s doing what, what products are made of, where their money goes, what their favorite brands are doing, and who the people are behind those brands. This influx of information makes the young consumers of today much smarter. I also think they have better taste than we had.
Really? In what way?
Culturally, I think they’re exposed to better design than we were.
A brand like Apple has exposed young people to good design. A brand like Target has helped bring design to the masses and has shown that just because something is inexpensive, it doesn’t have to look cheap. It can be beautiful.
That idea is definitely ingrained into the young consumer’s mind-set, and I think that’s a good thing.
So do you think that this demand for honesty and authenticity is a fad, or do you think it’s a longer-term trend?
I think it’s a macro trend. As long as we have access to information, these issues are going to be important, and they’re going to be top of mind for young people.
What do you mean by a “macro trend”?
A macro trend is something that exists in the culture for anywhere from eight to ten years, sometimes more, and affects multiple product or brand categories: cars, beauty, fashion, technology, and so on. It can also affect the cultural mind-set as well. The need for authenticity in branding is a cross-category trend. It’s not just affecting one category. It’s affecting multiple categories, and it’s affecting the mind-set of the culture as a whole.
Do you think that certain companies are leveraging or exploiting this trend to their benefit? Do you think that they’re “authenticity washing” in the same way that some companies are greenwashing?
I think it’s hard to manufacture authenticity, and I think people know real authenticity versus phony authenticity. I’ve seen organizations try to fake it, but I think it’s hard. We’re much more educated as a culture.
I’m seeing more and more corporations try to reposition their brands in order to provide deeper meaning to consumers’ lives—which the brands claim people can achieve through continued consumption of a particular product. Do you think that mass-manufactured brands can really help society and our individual sense of self-worth while simultaneously providing financial value to corporate shareholders? Doesn’t that feel insincere?
It does, but you know what? I don’t mind it very much. If we can utilize the power of big corporations to make the world a better place, why shouldn’t we?
I recently had an argument with some folks about Coca-Cola. They were going on and on about how horrible Coca-Cola is. And I couldn’t help but counter by asking them if they knew how much water Coca-Cola drops into nations that have no water—and that this is something that Coca-Cola does on its own dime. Or if they were aware that Coca-Cola is helping young women entrepreneurs in its 5 By 20 initiative. I’m seeing more and more large corporations try to make up for the supposed bad that they’re doing in the world. What’s so terrible about that?
Some people say they shouldn’t be doing anything bad in the first place.
It depends on how you define “bad.” One of the people I was arguing with was blaming corporations for making our kids fat. While I don’t think that vending machines should be allowed in schools, I do feel that in general, people drink these beverages because they want to drink them—because they like the way they taste. Nobody is forcing anyone to drink a Coke, Pepsi, Dr Pepper, or any other soda! If those companies are using their profits to do good things for needy people, what’s wrong with that? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. But I may be in the minority on this issue.
It’s great for a company to stand for noble causes, and the companies that I love are those that stand for something meaningful. My whole family buys Patagonia. We support that brand wholeheartedly. Because of what the brand stands for, we’re going to spend more and buy Patagonia products, so that we can support the company instead of its competitors.
What about items like cigarettes? I can understand forgiving Coca-Cola for its high-calorie, bubbly beverages when you consider them in light of how much good the company does for the world’s neediest people. But what about cigarette brands? Nobody is putting a gun to anyone’s head to smoke a cigarette, but when we know that something is so bad for somebody, should the government have a role in regulating it?
No. Again, this is about personal choice, and adults are capable of making their own choices. And either you can buy a pack of Marlboros, or you can buy a candy bar or a soda. As human beings, we have this freedom to choose. If you choose to buy the cigarettes, then that’s on you.
What about the perceived “cool factor” that cigarettes can give to someone—which is part of their appeal?
Look, this is hard for me, because I was a smoker. I was a smoker for a very long time. Everybody around me was against it, and they didn’t see it as cool at all. But I don’t believe that anybody is forcing anybody to do anything, and especially now, since we are all hypereducated consumers. The information is out there, and we’re dealing with a very educated group of young people and consumers. I don’t believe that people are pawns in this game. I think that they’re active, and they participate. But let’s also be honest about what we do. There’s always a side of me that hates what I do.
Why is there a side of you that hates what you do?
I hate being part of the machine. Don’t you ever feel like you’re part of the machine?
Absolutely. I oversaw the design of the Hershey’s bar wrapper, and when I see one of them crumpled on the ground, I stomp over it and think, “I put that there.” But don’t you think what you’re doing is creative?
It is. It is, but it took a long time for me to come to terms with working for large companies and large brands. It took a long time for me to accept it, embrace it, and love it.
At the end of the day, what makes you continue working in this field?
I love being able to have an influence on the culture at large. I love being able to come up with ideas with groups of people and then see those ideas realized. And I love to watch people experience and enjoy those ideas. What we do has a lot of power. We can change the way things are manufactured. We can utilize technologies that are greener. We can affect the way things are made in a very permanent and important way. We can help inspire people to realize that they can contribute to making the world a better place, even if it’s making simple, small changes in their own lives. To me, that is an amazing gift.