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From The Fall 2005 Issue of Natural Grocery Buyer
Sampling a shoo-in for sales
Kevin Coupe
 About a dozen years ago, on a lark, I signed up on the New Balance Web site to be what the company called a “wear tester.” Two or three times a year, the athletic shoe manufacturer ships a pair of what in the old days we used to call sneakers, and asks me to wear them and fill out a questionnaire about them.
In those 12 years, I’ve probably tested 30 or 40 pair of New Balance shoes—tennis shoes, running shoes and cross trainers. Most of them I’ve loved, although a few qualified as either ill-fitting or (in the case of a pair of orange racing sneakers) hideous-looking.
But it doesn’t really matter what they send me. What matters is that, with the exception of the black dress shoes that go with my tuxedo, every other pair of shoes in my closet is made by New Balance or its casual/dress shoe affiliate, Dunham. Every pair. And it’s been that way for more than a decade.
Not only that, but when discussing footwear with friends and family, I always rave not just about the shoes but the company that manufactures them. New Balance is my shoe company—even though I don’t own stock and have no interest in its success or failure (except for the fact that my supply of free sneakers would dry up).
Ultimately, my loyalty isn’t about the free shoes. It’s really about the fact that New Balance is liberally sampling its products with me—and more important—listening to what I think. It’s more than a slogan or mission statement. It is a living, breathing, ever-evolving relationship.
What is extraordinary to me isn’t that New Balance goes to all this trouble. It is that more retailers and manufacturers don’t.
This is especially true in the food business, where how something tastes should be an important factor in whether or not someone will buy a product. Should be.
One of the problems with the food business is that the people who run it have, to a great extent, made product selection not about taste, but about price. In doing so, they minimize what should be the great differentiator and emphasize the one thing that most stores can’t win on (especially if they are competing with Wal-Mart or another “big box” store).
This is even more frustrating in the natural/organic business, where the general public continues to believe that if something is good for you, it probably tastes like cardboard. (I’m married to someone who believes this fervently, and I have to slip in the organics under an assumed name just to get her to try stuff.)
Whole Foods Market has made huge contributions in this area by focusing on the food culture, stressing how good its food looks and tastes, and advertising itself as the place for people who love food.
Not that long ago, I visited a New Seasons Market in Portland, Ore., and was impressed by the sampling bar at the entrance, which greeted patrons with a wide variety of foods to taste. It was as if the company had decided to confront the “tastes-like-cardboard” fallacy head-on and say, “Here. You taste it. You decide.”
One of the best sampling retailers out there is Costco Membership Warehouse. In order to get people to understand that great-tasting things can come in big packages, Costco lures customers in with enticing tastes and aromas. Smart move.
The company that does food demonstrations for Costco says sales rise on a sampled product 89 percent of the time. And surveys suggest that as many as seven out of 10 shoppers will choose a food store that offers samples, and almost nine out of 10 say they would be more likely to try a new product if they tasted it first in-store.
So, if you’re not offering samples at your store, please explain to me why not.
If you’re looking for me, I’ll be at Whole Foods or Costco, nibbling my way from one demo station to the next while deciding what to buy.
It won’t be hard to find me. I’ll be the one wearing the New Balance sneakers.
Kevin Coupe covers the retail business on his Web site, www.morningnewsbeat.com. Reach him at kc@morningnewsbeat.com.
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