On the subject of understanding the female market Tom Peters states: “ I admit it. Reluctantly. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. Didn’t have a clue actually”.
As per my post “What your business will and should be”, one of the trends today is to understand the buying power of women and to direct products towards their specific needs.
There is a general feeling that men cannot understand and satisfy women needs. I am not sure if it is that definite but I know that it is challenging for men to understand the extent of women’s needs.
Spring Holiday is around the corner. All the big petrol filling stations and restrooms along the main highways are getting ready to lure their portion of the holiday travellers to their facilities – presumable to fill up their vehicles. But as one filling station owner told me his main business is his convenience store.
Yet, I don’t think the owners of these facilities truly understand the needs of women or how powerful they can be as loyal clients.
The following comical illustration sent to me by a lady friend shows that men just don’t get it…yet…
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter; the wait has been so long …
The dispenser for the modern ’seat covers’ (invented by someone’s Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume ‘The Stance’.
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.
Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose with yesterday - the one that’s still in your bag (the bag around your neck).
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn’t work. The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
‘Occupied!’ you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT!
At this point, you give up. You’re exhausted.
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men’s toilet. Annoyed, he asks, ‘what took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?