Head Tilt #81: Building a brand with free flowers and food

Goodies from our Valentino/Bergdorf adventure

“When life offers you free flowers, say YES!”

My 17-year-old son said that to me when we walked into the luxury department store Bergdorf Goodman in New York City.

I usually shy away from such high-end establishments, but after a treat of tea at the Plaza Hotel, it seemed natural to browse the beauty of Bergdorf’s.

What we didn’t know was that the fashion designer, Valentino, was having a special promotion.

The scent of fresh-cut blooms greeted us as we entered the store. At a cheery pop-up flower cart, people stood in line for beautiful spring bouquets made of gerbera daisies, ranunculus, roses, and more. Courtesy of Valentino, flowers were free for everyone.

Brendan was eager to get in line.

I was not.

Pragmatically I thought—what would we do with flowers? We were flying home the next morning.

(Also, a small voice inside me also said, “I don’t belong here!”)

Then Brendan said, and I quote, “When life offers you free flowers, say YES! What kind of story do you want to tell?”

BAM! (Out of the mouths of babes, right?)

We got in line.

We learned that after the flowers, we could head to the second floor for a free pastry and the seventh floor for complimentary coffee or hot chocolate.

We were intrigued.

As we waited for our bouquet, a statuesque, stunning model slowly walked through the crowd in a $7K (!!) Valentino evening gown. This was unreal. (We were not in Santa Cruz anymore.)

Next, we made our way to the second floor for our pastry. Brendan chose a baguette, and I selected the rugelach. The happy server packaged them with a warm smile and told us not to miss the shoe section.

More fine-art gallery than shoe department, we perused the stunning creations.

Soon we took the escalators to home goods for our caffeinated delight. Brendan ordered a mocha, and I sipped an almond milk latte. We adorned each with the goodies at the side of the coffee cart. We were having so much fun!

Looking through the different departments, I found the perfect Earl Grey tea (Mariage Frères) for my favorite aunt. It was likely the least expensive thing in the entire building, but see what they did? I spent money there, after all.

(A small voice said, “Maybe I can belong here?”)

If I haven’t made it clear:

I am not Valentino’s target customer.

Nor am I Bergdorf Goodman’s ideal shopper.

But Valentino’s promotion, coupled with the welcoming staff I encountered while browsing Bergdorf’s, changed my perception of these two ultra-high-end brands.

For me, what they did was better than an ad in Vogue or a story online; previously elite and anonymous to me, now both labels elicit positive vibes.

What a wonderful example of building a brand.

Because who knows? Someday I might require an exquisite evening gown. I know exactly where I’ll look for it.

PS: I am so glad my son nudged me to say yes to this experience and that I have this story to tell!

What are you saying YES to today?

Head Tilt #80: Hugh Jackman got the giggles

Recently I had the privilege of seeing Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster star in The Music Man on Broadway. 

The performance exceeded my already-high expectations. The two leads married talent, charisma, and chemistry to put on quite a show. 

Toward the end, Hugh and Sutton shared a pivotal scene where Hugh's character, Harold Hill, finally wins the heart of Sutton's Marian Paroo. 

Before the big kiss, Hugh got the giggles. 

And then Sutton got the giggles. 

On Broadway! These two pros both broke character and couldn't stop laughing! 

The audience went nuts. WE LOVED IT!

(I've since read that this isn't the first time this has happened between the two friends.) 

After about two minutes (and a lot of applause), they regained their composure and proceeded with the script. They didn't apologize, start the scene over, or walk off the stage with embarrassment. 

They just caught their breath and kept going. 

Through their goof, these two big stars were instantly 

• relateable
• authentic
• human!

More than ever, the world craves authentic moments like this. 

Even in the work world.

The next time you're leaving a voicemail to a prospect and stumble over your words, catch your breath and KEEP GOING. 

When you're an interviewed guest on a podcast and say the wrong word, even though you knew the right one-- catch your breath and KEEP GOING.

When you're giving a presentation, and your slides don't load, catch your breath and KEEP GOING. 

When recording a video and you flub near the end, catch your breath and KEEP GOING. 

Use these moments of humanity to connect with your audience. You don't need to draw extra attention to your mistake or start apologizing profusely; just keep going. 

If you're still not convinced, consider this: 

I recently concluded a six-part sales enablement series for a worldwide payment company. Through their A/B testing, they told me that the more "authentic" (i.e., not overly scripted or sales-y) they make their:

• email subject lines
• video messages, and
• cold-calls

 the more success they have with open rates and responses.

The world craves connection and authenticity. 

Catch your breath, giggle inside, and keep going! 

Head Tilt #79: Worst run. Best run.

"Fail early, fail often, but always fail forward." John C. Maxwell

"You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated." Maya Angelou

Last weekend I failed. 

Big.

It was go-time and I was ready to run my best half marathon yet. 

I knew the goal. It was a stretch goal: Achievable but challenging. 

I mapped the course for months. I knew exactly what it would take to reach my ideal time and I plotted the steps. 

I trained. Hard. Long runs, tempo runs, HIIT runs, hill runs. I didn't miss a run. 

I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. Running has been my go-to movement since I was in college. I think of myself as a runner and, this year, after consistency, commitment, education, and grit, I thought of myself as an athlete.

I trained smart and I trained right. 

On race day I was READY. I ticked all the boxes of my "cheetah checklist" (the list I created to succeed). Nutrition, gear, attitude-- I was excited. I was optimistic. I was stoked. I was SET. It was practically in the bag. 

Until it wasn't.

After a strong start and a few happy, fast miles, I started to slog. 

My hamstring-- a seemingly chronic injury that I'd pampered with acupuncture, physical therapy, and care-- pulled the emergency brake. Adding to the issue, my light legs that I thought were made of feathers turned to lead, and every step felt clunky, awkward, and hard. 

WHAT. THE. F*!K.

The physical setback was real. I stopped and walked (walking in a race breaks all my personal rules) to reorient myself. 

Instead of recalibrating, I added insult to injury, salt to the wound,  pain to pain-- I berated myself. Harshly. 

My inner critic stole the mic and turned the volume all the way UP. 

"Loser!" "Embarrassment!" "Fake!" "Phony!"

The physical pain was fierce. The personal pain was worse. 

By mile 11, my brain and my legs told me I needed to get the heck off the course. I ripped off my bib number, stepped aside, and Google-mapped my way home. I was so ashamed. 

Head down, I hobbled along, alone. 

(The bright spot: as a consolation prize, I stopped at the Donut Bar on the way and grabbed a glazed Old-Fashioned and a Mimosa to go. ☀️)

The next day, after rest and perspective, I served up a big warm slice of humble pie and slowly started making sense of what happened. 

As disappointing as it was, the injury was eventually easy to understand-- even though I thought otherwise, my injured muscles just weren't down for a 13-mile run. 

However, the self-loathing that chimed in required a more thorough exploration,  unless I wanted to struggle this hard with future disappointments. 

Here's how I've made sense of everything since...

I realized that failure was almost inevitable because: 

1. I made perfection my only option. Next time, I'll still aim high, but I will allow room for disappointment. To paraphrase Steinbeck, Now that I don't have to be perfect, I can be good. 

2. I tied my identity to a very specific label. When my performance didn't match the label, I fell. I need to know that I am more than my descriptors. I am Michelle and at the end of the day, I'm okay no matter what. 

3. At a time when I needed self-compassion the most, I gave the mean-me the mic. Next time I'll grab another microphone and let the kind-me have a dialog with my harsh self-critic. What am I so scared of? What is at the base of the personal attack? What would I say to someone else experiencing a similar circumstance? Curiosity quells cruelty.    

A week later, my hamstring still hurts. I haven't run since, but I will run again. I've mapped specific ways to improve my physical game and my mental game. I have three more races on my calendar. I'm still disappointed with the recent race outcome and how I reacted to my defeat, but I'm mindfully making room for compassion. 

I am not defeated. I am failing forward. After all, failure can be a great teacher. I'm sitting front-row, ready to grow. If I apply what I learn, maybe my worst run will be my best run, after all. 

Early in the race: Happy hamstring, happy me.

 

Head Tilt #78: I'm scited (sacred and excited)

That's right-- I'm scited! 

Big race coming up in San Diego... (3/27)

Mentally I go through my checklist:

 ✅  Have I trained enough?  (I think so? I guess I could always train more.)

 ✅  Have I done enough hill work? (Hmmm... too late now if I haven't!)

 ✅  Did I plan my taper-week right?  (Sure! I love an excuse to take it slow and eat a few more carbs.)

 ✅  Do I have the right gear: socks, shoes, etc?  (Absolutely yes on this one!)

 ✅  Do I have my hydration tabs?  (Another yes)

 ✅  Do I have the right playlist?  (Still might add a song or two...)

I am ready! I am also scited.

Scited means the state of being scared and excited at the same time. It's a portmanteau created by the wonderful human, Glennon Doyle. 

And I am scited when I think about the race. 

I am excited about the thrill of racing. It's so much FUN! The amped energy of the racers is exhilarating! I am also eager to see what my body is capable of this year. 

I am scared that I didn't prepare enough after all. I am scared I won't finish in a time that I consider respectable. What if I bonk?! 

Here's the thing: Anxiety (being scared) is a state of negative arousal. Excitement is nearly the same exact experience physically, but it's a state of positive arousal. 

I first heard this from Tony Robbins at his Unleash the Power Within conference and it blew my mind. 🤯 Shortly after, I tested the idea. My son and I were in line for The Twilight Zone Hollywood Tower of Terror -- a 130ft elevator drop ride in Disney California Adventure. At the time, it was my son's favorite ride and my least favorite. It was so scary!!! Even my butterflies were biting their nails when I stood in that queue. 

I committed long ago never to be a sideline mom, so despite my anxiety, I agreed to ride it with him each time we visited the park. 

As we waited our turn, I started thinking about anxiety and excitement as the same thing, different perspective. 

I thought how fun it was to be with Brendan. I thought how safe I was (despite the ruse of a broken elevator) and what a thrill the ride was. I actually talked myself into a different state of mind.

Did I still have butterflies? Oh yeah! An entire parade of butterflies do-si-doed in my belly! 

But now I was much more excited and much less scared. 

I've used the same mind game with the anxiety I feel before a big presentation or interview. I can feel the butterflies, but I let them lift me. 

As for the race, my scared parts are real, but they aren't as loud as the excited parts. 

My mind is reading the pre-race jitters as information and then turning it into fuel. 

I might bonk (doubtful). I might not finish in the time I want (could happen), but I am dressing this particular parade of butterflies in the best damn outfits I can imagine. 

Now they are all doing high-kicks in unison while cheering me on. 

I think they'll help me fly come Sunday morning. 

On my mark.

Get set.

GO!