| |
Popping up across the US to satisfy that yen is Teavana, a chain of "tea emporiums" housed in upscale shopping malls. Its brand identity is as complicated as the loose-leaf teas it sells. For shoppers looking for a Zen alternative to the zoom-zoom payoff of Starbucks' uber-caffeinated coffees, Atlanta-based Teavana has constructed an image that draws liberally on the calming allure of the Far Eastern lifestyle and the purported health benefits of its products. The company's logo, a brown and purple tea drinker relaxing in the lotus position, has a laid-back yoga vibe while its tagline purports the company is "Opening the doors to health, wisdom, and happiness." David Carradine—who portrayed a wise Shaolin monk in Kung Fu—couldn't have parsed it better himself.
Teavana isn't the only tea brand whose marketing platform is at one with the hip and holistic. Starbucks' own Tazo brand sells green teas with names like Zen and Om, while its mission statement refers to the company's "master tea shaman." (How would you like to have that title on your business card?) Even sugary Snapple has produced a commercial that depicts a young man in a Chinese field searching for the meaning of the moniker "white tea." (A gray-bearded farmer explains that it is tea made from baby tea leaves.)
Meanwhile, Honest Tea has embraced a more health- and socially conscious appeal, promising consumer activists that its unsweetened tea is made from organic, fair-trade tea leaves and the company is committed to diversity and a clean environment. Teavana has also hopped on that brandwagon, donating 1 percent of its profits to CARE International and touting its EquaTrade partnership—not to mention the company's detailed descriptions in collateral materials of the health benefits of various teas: white tea helps refresh your skin via antioxidants, green tea regulates your blood sugar, and oolong tea lowers fat content in the blood, according to the company's website.
One look at the specialty chain's prices, and you too might want to know just what these teas will do for you. Silver Needle tea, touted as "a well guarded secret of Chinese emperors" made from "most downy tea buds," retails for US$ 18 for two ounces—the equivalent of 20 cups of tea. Monkey Picked Oolong Oolong costs $25 for two ounces. The retailer also sells branded, airtight tea tins for $10-$12 a piece and steel, cast-iron, and ceramic Eastern-style teapots for $70-$230.
Whether its teas will open doors to a kind of mythical Far Eastern longevity or not, it is certain that the company has enlightened American mall shoppers to the idea of loose tea as a luxury product. Why not? Americans willing to pay $4 for a cup of joe have made Starbucks a household name. Chocolate has moved beyond Hershey and Milky Way to Green and Blacks, a British import that retails for up to $6 a bar even in corner bodegas. And Teavana's strategy of opening outlets only in upscale malls guarantees shoppers have green to shell out for tea of any color.
At Roosevelt Field Mall in Garden City, New York, Teavana's outlet is located near the entrance of Bloomingdales—not Sears or Macy's. This year, when the tea bar opened a location at The Mall at Green Hills in Nashville, a company rep told a reporter for the Tennessean, "We typically look for the mall that has the greatest fashion mix in the market." All told, the retailer operates 110 locations in the US, with three more due to open this year in Illinois and Florida, according to the Teavana website.
If tea-drinking trends continue, the retailer may be poised to become moneyed tea-heads' dealer of choice. In January the Chicago Tribune reported that tea drinking in the US is up as health-conscious and luxury consumers turn away from coffee. US tea sales are expected to grow to $10 billion by 2010 from $6 billion in 2005, according to the World Tea Expo, a trade show. Nationally, the number of tea cafes has boomed to 2,000 from 200 in the past decade, according to the Tea Association of the USA.
As the country's self-appointed "tea heaven," Teavana is opening its pearly gates to customers—and its cash registers to the growing tide of the long green variety.
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
Deanna Zammit has been a freelance writer covering branding and advertising for four years. While she's not opposed to tea named after exotic Eastern fauna, she most enjoys the all-business kick of Earl Grey, Irish Breakfast, and other teas your grandmother might sip.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
Jan 1, 2007
|
NFL - fumbles? -- Abram Sauer
|
|
|
By launching its own cable network and seeking an expanded audience, is the NFL in danger of dropping the ball?
|
|
|
|
|
Copyright © 2001-2013 brandchannel. All rights reserved.