Masters of none
As has been very well publicised, Masters - the hardware chain recently established by Woolworths Limited - is closing down, generating losses in the order of $1B for its parent company.
Apparently they brand was first established in 2011, but I hadn't paid much attention. Firstly because it seemed they were as identical to Bunnings as Coles is to Woolworths; and secondly because there's a Bunnings within three minutes of my house so the inconvenience of finding a Masters outweighed the potential benefits.
Finally, yesterday I sought out a Masters. Their "Closing Down Sale" advertising caught my attention, and I realised I'd be within a few minutes of one of their stores after an appointment.
So, for the first (and presumably last) time ever, I entered a Masters store.
It's worth noting, too, I'm right in their target demographic. Mid-thirties, suburban homeowner with large backyard, DIY mindset and reasonable disposable income.
I visited the store with no particular agenda, but with a clear intention to buy. I have a raft of home improvement projects documented in Evernote and a nearly limitless list of tools I would buy if I found them at the right price, and I figured the closing-down sale presented an opportunity to pick up some bargains.
How strange, then, that after a slow stroll through every aisle of their tools section, I had but a single pack of screwdrivers in my trolley. No new socket set. No cordless circular saw. No incredibly-expensive-but-satisfyingly-solid pliers to add to my tool box. Just a pack of screwdrivers.
The gardening section was no better. I didn't buy three new shovels. I didn't buy a new post-hole digger. I didn't even see any wood-splitters.
How could I - a person smack in the middle of their target market, with a fully loaded credit card and a 50% sale - not come away with a whole trolley-full of goods?
As it turns out, Masters didn't have anything I wanted. None of the tools they stock are among my trusted brands. None of their inventory stoked the fires of 'gear acquisition syndrome' in my stereotypically male brain.
If they can't sell me anything when it's all 50% off, no wonder they struggled to record a profit (or indeed worse, going down a quarter of a billion into the red in 2015) under normal circumstances.
So what did they do wrong? Quite simply, it seems they didn't know their audience. They didn't know how much I care about buying tools from brands I trust. They didn't know that some "home brand" logos on Chinese products wouldn't appeal to me. They didn't know, it seems, that simply being "Bunnings but blue" wouldn't cut it.
For all their buying power and marketing budget, they never seemed to understand who the people who walk into their store actually are, and it cost them big time.
It highlights - for the millionth time - that whether composing a marketing strategy or speaking to a crowd, you must truly know your audience. They aren't just numbers, they're people.
And so it's worth asking - who's your audience? Do you know them?