And here we have a sign for one of my favorite corporate overlords that says absolutely nothing in the loudest voice possible.
Since Starbucks is (kind of incredibly, when you think about it) the top Quick Serve Restaurant Brand—beating out (I mean, look at this list) Taco Bell, Chipotle, KFC, Burger King and McDonald’s, in that order—I will seize this occasion.
Starting with the next paragraph, I will try to articulate why I am so annoyed by the tone of Starbucks’ writing voice.
ARRRRR-RARRHHHHHRRRRRR I hate that cloying ootsy bootsy cutesy wootsy godawful tone of voice.
….(calming down) …Look, I’m an addict.
Not getting a tall bold coffee from Starbucks (I do not want it from McDonald’s, no thank you) prevents a day from seeming like it began.
I go back after lunch with the cup I hung onto and get a cup discount on another hit (which is often, disappointingly, their meh-flavored Pike Place Roast because in late morning they often stop brewing the thick, oozy, chewy, oily, over-roasted dark stuff that I adore).
If I happen to be near the one Clover brewing device in Indiana, I pay a little extra for that. A little something for me. I deserve a treat, right? Affordable Luxury is a trend, after all.
But it isn’t just the coffee. Mr. Schultz’s idea of “the Third Place” seems invented for me: I do see that cozy, bourgeois décor as a haven.
I cannot count the excellent musicians I have discovered through their Hear Music samplers, which I usually purchase with my Rewards Card without hesitation and then lose under the seat of my car.
I AM ADDICTED NOT JUST TO THE COFFEE BUT TO THE BRAND EXPERIENCE.
All of this information I am submitting as context for my revulsion at what I must with a heavy grudge admit is their brand tonality.
Now, their graphic design is wonderful: again, it hits my pseudo-refined middle-class sense of cool and tastefulness square on the nailhead. But the language on that design is cloying and smug.
When they’re running low on food in their refrigerated case, there’s copy underneath where the food was that apologizes for the missing items—a clever concept—but they ruin it with presumption: [something like this, I’m quoting from irritated memory] “Wow! You really liked that! Don’t worry, there’ll be more tomorrow.”
Shut up!
And I know I’m spending money on myself that I should probably save for the kids’ college fund, so don’t put up a sign that says, “Take time for you with a Signature Hot Chocolate. Experience the comforting taste of steamed milk and rich chocolate with a magical swirl of whipped cream…” SHUT UP. You’re all breathy. You’re all sexy talking. You’re calling your own merchandise magical, you egotist. Plus you’re all cooing and sighing and rubbing my shoulder GET YOUR HAND OFF MY NECK I DO NOT WANT A NECK MASSAGE. Stop misreading me and don’t be so familiar.
“We roasted it up with a Christmas wish.” “Pass the cheer!” “Discover the taste that inspires you.”
Whatever plump-cheeked cartoon bird sings that stuff is so frickin’ chirpy I want to find it and kill it.
It’s this combination of chatty cuteness and the assumption that I am ready to cuddle combined with an overt attempt to manipulate me that I can’t tolerate. I think it’s the combination of elements that does it. Even the warning on the cups irritates me: “Careful, the beverage you’re about to enjoy is extremely hot.” It winks. It jollies. It makes its voice go low and tucks in its chin like Shirley Temple imitating a stern grownup. Careful, [somehow they imply “you silly old thing”], the beverage [what a weirdly stiff word in this world of furry lovability] you’re about to enjoy [STOP FORCING ME TO ADMIT I ENJOY IT YOU MANIPULATIVE EXPLETIVE DELETEDS] is extremely hot [you’re only talking right now because the lawyers forced you to do it: just say what you have to say and shut up].
Look, I’m the first to advocate casual, conversational language. I’m also the first, if at all possible, to say that I believe people enjoy good, up-front, charming salespeople who make no pretense about the fact they’re selling you something. I’m among the first to say that your brand can establish a strong relationship with those who love you. BUT DON’T DO IT ALL AT ONCE.
And again, I think it’s this assumption that I’m in love with you that’s at the root of the trouble.
Keep your distance. Notice the power of self-deprecation. You’re in America, where we demand even our most talented actresses and fabulous athletes affect modesty and pretend they ain’t nothin’ special, just everyday folks like yourself. Here in the U.S.A. we don’t like you to put on airs. We invented the word high falutin, and it’s not a compliment.
And if I catch you being pretentious and taking liberties with our relationship, I will never allow you closer than arm’s length, even if I do spend approximately 10% of my annual income at your store.
Whatever. Basic message, I guess, is don’t assume I love you. Don’t wink when you say things.
Just back off, Starbucks.
I haven’t had my coffee yet.
