This is a tale of three business owners who came to me with stories that proved to be just like the Three Bears’ porridge: too hot, too cold, and just right. And it explains why most entrepreneurs and CEOs need a personal branding coach — or Goldilocks — to help them find happy endings to their tales.
Esmeralda is a holistic healer in southern California. She helps people and pets rid themselves of past life experiences by channeling their ancestors and spiritually cleansing their homes.
She said her Los Angeles-area clients loved her but she wanted to reach a worldwide clientele — angry people in Singapore, forlorn cats in Topeka, and depressed dogs in Amsterdam, for example — and needed a more mainstream image. Her goal was to provide consultations via Skype for $150 to $250 an hour.
Esmeralda (not her real name) boasted pretty impressive New Age credentials and dozens upon dozens of testimonials. A lot of people said Esmeralda had made them happier, healthier, wealthier, and wiser and the “after” animals on her website looked pretty giddy, too.
Maybe I’ve just lived in California for too long, but I was confident I could brand Esmeralda as a natural healer and figured that if Whole Foods could sell wheat grass in Detroit, Esmeralda could cyber-treat puppies in Des Moines.
Until Esmeralda started sharing “mainstream” stories and photos of herself. Her idea of healing was straight out a Marvin Gaye song and her notion of professional attire was a bikini bottom instead of a G-string.
And she could not be convinced that, if she wanted to change her personal brand, she needed to put on some clothes. She claimed to be following the spiritual practices of the Dalai Lama, but she certainly wasn’t taking wardrobe advice from him.
Esmeralda’s story may sound too extreme to be applicable to the average business person. But far too many are myopic — or downright blind — to the effect their behavior or appearance has on others.
Seek objective advice from someone you trust. If the people in your inner circle aren’t like the people you want to impress (don’t expect your corner bar drinking buddies to tell you how to prepare for a Fortune 500 board meeting), consult a professional advisor.
Jeff Kahn, a kinetic sculptor, is not as cold as stone. He’s actually a warm, friendly, and funny guy. More important, he has a wealth of stories to tell. But he is almost pathologically self-effacing. His resume, for example, mentions that his work has been exhibited at an air and space museum. It neglects to mention that the museum is the Smithsonian.
Kahn also likes to talk about the times he’s fallen off horses as if he’s naturally clumsy. He’s less eager to talk about the fact that he was a champion equestrian. And downright reluctant to discuss the newspaper articles, TV appearances, and books that feature him. Or the fact that he invented the surgical instruments that a doctor used on him when he needed hip surgery.