Mama, what's a sale?

Really, that's what my daughter Mattie asked me the other day as we were doing some back-to-school shopping. Her confusion was telling: In every store we shopped -- from major national retailer to neighborhood boutique -- there were signs above virtually every rack of merchandise.

What, after all, is a sale? She was under the impression that everything in the store was "for sale," so why the banners and rack toppers? I tried to explain, but really came up empty. Indeed, when everything is on sale all the time, why bother with the signs? Were the clothes last season's? Nope. Were they damaged in some way? No, again. Was the store going out of business, as several of her favorites had? Not this time.

You see it's as hard to explain flop sweat to a nine-year-old as it is to not notice the look of sheer terror in the eyes of the store's manager when someone walks by, considers entering and walks on, or comes in, fingers the goods and then exits without a purchase. The interior voice of "Why?" and "What could I have done differently?" "What about another 'today only' 10 percent (more) off?" seemed to dart darkly in the cartoon balloon above her head.

I was watching the end game of a process I did not particularly want to explain to Mattie. One best summed up by a former client several years ago: "One generation of marketers has addicted three generations of consumers to the heroin of price promotion." It's that death spiral that Mattie was noticing: When everything is on sale all the time, what indeed is a sale? It's sort of a post-modern, or at least post-economic meltdown, question.

We all know the reasons for the dilemma. What is beginning to emerge now is perhaps a pathway out -- albeit at tricky one. Today's edition of The New York Times (September 23, front page) offers the best clue: A study done for the French government suggests that we've had -- as a global economy -- a single-minded focus on growth of GNP as the best metric for judging the health of various economies. In the retail world, this translates into an unrelenting obsession with growth in comp store sales (open at least a year) vs. year ago. It's pretty much all analysts look for, so it's pretty much what drives the sector. And, it drives some pretty bad behavior which encourages topline growth (and aggressive discounting to achieve it) at the expense of many other intangible variables, such as store loyalty, shopping experience, and professional sales help expertise. Most horribly, of course, it erodes the metric that does and should matter: Profit.

So my modest proposal today: Change the metric to profit per square foot in stores open at least a year vs. year ago. Pause and consider what changes in behavior would cascade from that one change.

In my work as a marketing consultant and writer (Shopportunity!, Passion Brands), I've learned that the desired emotional response women want from a great shopping experience is to feel lucky. Retailers have taken the fast road to evoking that sensation: Indeed, we do feel lucky when we get something we want at a great price. But that's not the only way to do it. When we get the right jeans to go with our favorite tee-shirt, the sensational new shoes for the dress already hanging in the closet, the perfect suit for the client dinner, we feel lucky too. And the kind of luck which transcends price is the kind that serves as a breeder reactor to profit and with it an enhanced loyalty, store experience and salaries to pay fabulous sales professionals.

As our own situation proved compellingly, the right pink plaid skirt with the right shirt with the coordinating faux neck tie is a fabulous investment impervious to the presence of a "sale" sign. Why cheapen the experience when the discount buys you nothing and costs you much?