Not too many mornings ago I found upon my door mat a copy of the Howies winter catalogue. It’s something I always look forward to. Yet, I own only a small number of Howies items, have no interest in biking down muddied hills in the freezing rain, and do not see myself as a vigilante eco warrior. But when it comes to that warm fuzzy feeling of affinity you feel towards certain things, that feeling all advertisers crave, few brands come close to Howies.
Why? Well, I like the catalogues because it’s beautifully made and filled with a wonderful selection of great, interesting content – most of which is provided by friends and employees. And it’s not just clothing, I should add. I like their ethics (although not all). I like their clothing (but not enough to spend £50 on a shirt). Most of all, I like that I was recently sent an email invite to brews and Welsh cakes at their Carnaby street store so they could ‘get to know me’. And I loved that, especially when I think that they genuinely do want to get to know me. I love that when I bought a t-shirt from a Howies sample sale, I actually believed that I was buying it from the man who had single handedly been responsible for that t-shirt’s adoring creation.
I think it’s truly brilliant that they invite you to a piece of cleared woodland to listen to inspirational lectures on all manner of things. Oh, and I have always loved their visual identity.
Yet could I put this together into a coherent comms plan? Could I write a strategy, with dedicated media channels and achievable goals? No, I couldn’t. And I really like to think that those at Howies couldn’t either. But then again, maybe that is their beauty – that they fool naïve people like myself into believing all of the above.
And of that is the case, my God, I would like to know how they have managed it.
