A few months ago, I presented to a large audience at work using a LEGO analogy. Yes, that’s how I roll. Part of my hook was a tongue-in-cheek comment about probably having more invested in a particular asset than I did in my employer’s stock. I saw a flash of interest in the eyes of our most senior leader, curious as to what fortune I was alluding to.
At work we spend a lot of time discussing this marketing concept of “whole product.” Basically it just means all the elements and services of a product that make it complete for the target customer. And I’m right smack dab in the middle of LEGO’s target audience– pinned to the bullseye with an arrow straight through my credit card.
Of all the things in my life, LEGO is the most whole product I’ve found:
- Plastic bricks and “guys”: But it’s so much more.
- Visionary box: What amazing Harry Potter world might my sons build me? My new suitcase that actually opens to reveal fantastic beasts, including a teeny tiny niffler… pure magical genius.
- Detailed instructions; no words: Illiterate children rejoice.
- Extra pieces just in case: Man they think of everything.
- 5 9’s quality: I’m completely fascinated by their engineering and QA. Thousands upon thousands of itsy-bitsy pieces the size of Barbie diamond earrings. Never in the history of over 50 kits has a piece actually been missing.
- Age range: How frustrating or easy will this bad boy be?
- Easy to wrap box: Santa’s wrapping elves would agree.
- Online resources: Recycle the instruction booklets guilt-free.
- No parent “service” required: Yes I’m willing to shell out $60-$70 for quiet time. It’s “me” time plus it’s educational, right?
LEGOs are the Lululemon of toys. Pilates, kombucha, organic produce, cappuccinos, LEGOs.
And then I noticed my Google news feed sporting articles with headlines along the lines of: LEGO Bricks are a Better Investment than Gold Bricks
Dang, even their marketing’s good.