I’ve previously made it clear that there is one thing infinitely more important than brand and once you know it, “brand” takes care of itself—or else becomes redundant.
In the countless “find your brand” sessions you’ve attended and discussions you’ve had with people on the topic, what tends to end up as the focus? Figuring out your “type.” To most people, “brand” is synonymous with “type.”
But aside from being frustratingly nebulous, that definition misses the true power (and purpose) of a brand when it comes to marketing oneself (if that’s the branding experts’ goal when it comes to actors). It’s kind of like describing a raw steak instead of the sizzle—it’s as unpalatable an exercise as it is indigestible.
Coca-Cola isn’t just a sugary carbonated drink and it certainly isn’t just its distinctive red and white logo. There is a promised lifestyle associated with that logo. Nike is only easy to spot because of the swoosh, but it’s desired because of the feelings the swoosh elicits in its fans.
Nike remains one of the most recognizable, effective, and enduring brands because of the strength of its message. Right or wrong, even terrible press has never succeeded in overpowering the message of encouragement via celebrity endorsements to live life without fear of failure and, of course, to “Just Do It.”
A brand isn’t just created to help the viewer categorize companies, businesses, or individuals (ie: an actor’s type). That’s an emblem, a logo, or salient feature. It is not a brand.
READ: 14 Tips for Determining Your ‘Brand’
Rather, a brand’s true purpose is to make the viewer hear the sizzle, smell the cooking steak, and salivate when seeing the logo (ie: your face and name on a movie poster). If it wasn’t desired, it would disappear in a sea of thousands of other brands, as is the fate of so many actors.
So it doesn’t help to continue making brand all about type. The brand is not just a classification of a thing, nor is it a thumbnail-sized design that fits neatly on a t-shirt, a letterhead, or a complimentary coffee mug. As such, brand is not your headshot, your stage name, or the kind of role you regularly book.
The brand is so deeply rooted in the feeling, the messaging, or lifestyle the company or individual wishes to promote that the result is positively pavlovian and the product itself almost irrelevant.
When Apple releases a new iPhone, millions of people salivate at the thought of how much smoother their online experience will be, how popular they will become with it on their hand, and how good they will look using it, not just what operating system will help them navigate the various apps. They’re so enamored that they’ll sleep outside the store for a week to be the first to get their hands on a unit.
Oprah, Tony Robbins, and Mother Teresa are all brands. Their images and names are identifiable but the most enduring legacy of their brand is what their very existence elicits in us when they enter our minds for any reason.
Branding is not about whether or not you fit the type of stern father, sassy school teacher, or sexy librarian. Rather, it’s about making people desire you because when they think of powerful and intelligent women, you spring to mind without hesitation. Like when thinking of a cold, refreshing beverage the whole family can enjoy at the beach immediately brings to mind in millions of people only one name.
If I regularly flashed a blue X in front of your eyes seconds before shooting sugar and caffeine directly into your veins, you’d better believe you’d become a rabid fan of my product quick smart, but if I flash the X without the rush, it has no effect at all. That’s the type without anything to back it up.
If a casting director sees your name, you want them to salivate at the thought of casting you because they can’t resist being associated with you, not just think, “Jessica would make a really good librarian.”
Remember: Sell the sizzle, not the steak. Now, let’s start again. What's your brand?
