August 21, 2007 | By Rebecca Thorman
1) A few days ago, at the urging of a reader, I attempted to figure out why the comments section on this blog was a big cluster freak on the page instead of separated into paragraphs like you good readers intended. After a useless twenty-seven minutes of poking around my stylesheets, twenty-seven minutes that I will never get back, I got fed up.
And by “got fed up” I mean I emailed my friend Mic Funk, also known as “funk in your junk,” “funky hunk,” or “thebestwebdesignerintheworld.” It took him all of two seconds to find the problem. Easy, I guess, when you know where to look.
I turned to him because thebestwebdesignerintheworld makes hazy subjects clear. He humors me as I explore numerous side projects, and we have been working together on a website to raise philanthropy awareness that will be publicly launched this winter in my area.
When we meet, thebestwebdesignerintheworld patiently explains what RSS means and the difference between AJAX and scripting languages. Thebestwebdesignerintheworld makes apples into apple pie, and turns blueberry pie back into blueberries. He’s that good.
He un-complicates the complicated.
2) I have been working with my real estate agent for almost a year, and the condo I bought with him won’t even be finished until next May. Which gives me more time than the average homebuyer to ask an incessant number of questions. That’s why I like my real estate agent. I ask a lot of questions. He has a lot of answers.
My real estate agent was so good at answering my questions in the beginning that when the time came to finally sit down and sign papers, I was ready to blindly sign by the “x” without reading the papers.
Which was stupid. Really stupid.
And you know what he did? He made me sit for an extra thirty or so minutes, and painstakingly explained each page before allowing me to put pen to paper. So I would know. So I would be informed. TIME IS MONEY! I wanted to yell, but when he was finished, I understood. I understood it was good to know about the biggest financial decision of my life. His behavior allowed me to trust him. And it’s really good to trust the person who has the biggest financial decision of your life in their hands.
3) This Sunday, my little sister and I went to the grocery store that doesn’t take credit cards to buy ingredients for a homemade pizza. The grocery store that doesn’t take credit cards doesn’t remind you of this fact until you’re in line, because they assume you’re not a freaking idiot. I, however, did not know this; it was only once we had carefully chosen the mushrooms and the pepperoni that I stood in line, realizing I had no cash, no debit card, and no good sense. A lonely credit card sat useless in my purse.
The cashier dialed the customer service office to put our cart on hold, while the couple behind us let out one of those “I can’t believe you freaking idiots didn’t know this grocery store doesn’t take credit cards” kind of sighs. To which I darted my “I can’t believe you’re so lame that you’re buying pasta IN A CAN” kind of looks.
Simultaneously, our bagger walked over to the cashier and asked how much our grocery bill was. The cashier showed him our receipt for $29.93, and then the bagger walked over to the customer side of the check out, swiped his debit card, and paid for my groceries. He PAID for MY groceries. And he makes what? $5 an hour?
These vignettes each hold a lesson on how to sell yourself successfully:
Lesson #1 - Make complicated things uncomplicated.
Lesson #2 - Instill trust through action.
Lesson #3 - Go the extra mile.
… and a fourth lesson that they all have in common:
Lesson #4 – Make others feel smart. Or, at the very least, less stupid.
(And yes, later that afternoon, tucked inside a hand-written thank you card, I paid the grocery bagger back, plus tip.)
Sell without the pitch.
July 20, 2007 | By Rebecca Thorman
I’ve worked hard over the past two years to change my image. I used to dumb myself down, play my looks up. It was easier that way. I didn’t have to buy any drinks in college, for instance. That was my brand, an image that wasn’t who I was or wanted to be. But it worked, so I kept on.
Until my boyfriend told me I wasn’t interesting enough. Until I came home from a meeting one day, furious for not speaking my mind. Until I had one scary frickin’ visit to the ER. Yeah, those life-threatening events, they’ll get you every time.
I sat down to think about who I really was, proceeded to have a quarter-life crisis, and made some tough decisions. They weren’t decisions that were visible. I didn’t quit my job, or become celibate, or move across the country to pursue reality television. But I did slowly, painfully, change and start to brand myself differently.
Personal branding is your personality, who you are as an individual and “the sum of other brands that you either own, work for or touch in some distinct way.” It’s about being you, and marketing the heck out of it.
You, who is reliably manipulative, can’t make a commitment if your life depended on it, and won’t go to bed until you clear the next level in your video game. You, who is only working until you have a baby, hopefully two, so you can stay at home and take care of your family. You, who works eighty hours a week and must separate your jelly beans into color-respective piles before eating.
Branding is marketing those very gems of your personality. That’s not hard to do. Just be yourself. If you’re acting like someone you’re not, then it will come back to haunt you, like when the infatuation wears off in a relationship, and it is at that moment your girlfriend finds your box of hair-regeneration pills in your underwear drawer. Whoever you are, it’s really hard to change, so you win by just being you from the start.
And sometimes, inevitably, you lose. Like this guy.
Branding is inextricably linked to accountability. If you do a good enough job of marketing yourself a certain way, people will start to believe you. So much so that when you mess up, or step out of your brand, it will make others uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t worry too much about this. Instead, focus on how you define accountability and your own comfort level with your actions.
Our lives are out in the open for all to see. Who you are at your job is who you are at the bar is who you are at the gym is who you are during sex is who you are at the company picnic is who you are at, well, you get the idea. Politicians do cheat on their wives. CEOs are bad parents. Artists are erratic friends. So, what? They’re good at their passions, and at the end of the day, we’re all doing the best we can in the circumstances given.
Your image reflects on your company, friends, and family. You, however, need to be accountable to yourself first. If you’re dancing on the tables at the bar, and worried about getting caught, either you have something personally wrong, or you need to find a different job that accepts your lack of inhibition. If your Facebook photos might get you in trouble, take them down, or decide you want to work at a place where they don’t care about that sort of thing.
The lines between work and play are increasingly blurring, and if you’re one person during the day and a different one at night you have to be proud enough to market the heck out of it. If you’re not comfortable, you need to learn more about who you are. You are in control of your brand.
My mother used to tell me, “Remember who you are,” whenever I left the house. People with integrity and confidence don’t worry about “getting caught,” because they know who they are. They know that dancing on tables is acceptable to them, or that their Facebook pictures show another layer of their onion. And if it’s not okay to them, they act accordingly.
In summary, to rock the branding/accountability boat:
1. Know yourself.
2. Be yourself.
3. Love it.
4. Repeat.
By the way, I still enjoy receiving free drinks, because I’ve realized I’m okay with using my looks… Sometimes.
Be yourself, or perish, yo.
