The Mystique of a global brand - Vespa




The arrival of the Vespa tells us about the aura that accompanies some global names.
There was a time when owning a scooter was an indication of some social standing. When everything was in short supply, possessing a scooter was no mean achievement.

Later, with rising levels of income, scooters became passé, and made way for the Maruti 800. That, too, passed, and ordinary Indians are now graduating to higher and higher classes of cars.

But despite the range of global goods and services at our disposal, the power of a global brand is something to be reckoned with.

One such is the ‘Vespa’ brand of scooters. It was recently announced that ‘Vespa’ is returning to India.

ICONIC BRANDS

The Vespa scooter is something of an icon, though admittedly a Western icon. It was such an icon in Italy where it was produced, that even a ‘crown princess’ could pillion-ride it.

Or, so it would seem to those who have watched the legendary 1953 Hollywood film Roman Holiday starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck.

The film, for those who are not familiar, is about a crown princess of an unknown country on a tour of Europe.

She accidentally meets a reporter, and then for a day escapes from her royal duties into a commoner’s life with the reporter. In the process, the princess falls in love with the reporter, who, incidentally, owns a Vespa scooter.

The queen rides on the reporter’s Vespa, even when pursued by the secret service police. They give the slip to the police, go around town — and finally, the secret service catches up.

To avoid a huge uproar throughout Europe, the queen decides to go back to her regal duties, despite her love pangs. On her journey back to her lonely castle, she is escorted by the reporter on his Vespa. The film was a huge success; so was Vespa — in Europe.

This goes to show the power of brand in the market.

The new makers of the scooter hope to ride on the iconic appeal of the brand name.

This is not the only instance of a global brand name trying to capture discerning Indian buyers, who will pay a hefty price for the brand name.

The German high-end automobile manufacturer BMW is bringing its equally iconic model, the “Mini Cooper”, into the Indian market. BMW cars are usually big, luxurious and priced at the upper end. They are packed with power, with their high-capacity engines, and are usually fuel guzzlers.

Mini, though from the BMW stable, is different. It is a small car, about as big as the Maruti 800. But its price is big.

Mini in India should cost around Rs 24-27 lakh, far above the price of larger luxury sedans such as Skoda Superb, Toyota Camry or Nissan Teana, which are priced at Rs 17-21 lakh. The reason is the brand appeal of a Mini, again an icon in the West.

A similar model is the Volkswagen Beetle. The Beetle was conceived as a people’s car in Hitler’s Germany. It was to be efficient, cheap and compact. Its success, however, gave it an international appeal. Volkswagen’s new Beetle, produced in Brazil, sells for its aesthetic appeal. Volkswagen, with full-fledged operations in India, brought its Beetle, priced at an exotic Rs 24 lakh-plus. It had incorporated various modern features and looked a little bigger in its new incarnation.

The appeal of global brands was brought home to Indians by none other than Rajiv Gandhi.

Those were the dying days of the control permit raj, when access to Western branded goods was extremely limited. Only top industrialists could access them. And no one dared to display them openly, for fear of attracting unwanted attention.

It was Rajiv Gandhi who blew all that away with his Ray-Ban goggles. Attired as an Indian Airlines pilot, and later as a politician, in white kurta-pyjama, Rajiv Gandhi would be seen in his golden-rimmed Ray-Ban glasses. For a while, India developed a craze for Ray-Ban.

‘FAIR AND LOVELY’

However, brand power was best told by marketing and advertisement guru Shunu Sen.

Sen was the marketing head of Hindustan Lever. Among its many products, Lever would offer what has come to be known as fairness cream.

The company was criticised for selling false dreams and pandering to prejudices. So the board of directors had decided to withdraw the product from the market, and Sen was charged with developing a strategy for its withdrawal.

During his market research on the product and exit strategy, Sen travelled the length and breadth of the country and eventually landed in a remote village in Uttar Pradesh, as far as I remember.

He looked for a provisions store and found one. Lo and behold! In the midst of old, withered products on display, there was a fresh new pack of Fair and Lovely.

Sen’s eyes lit up and he struck up a conversation with the shop owner, eventually proposing that Fair and Lovely should be withdrawn.

The shop-owner was startled and contested Sen’s view, saying the cream saved a bride’s family thousands of rupees in dowry. In other words, the villagers believed in the brand.

There ended Sen’s quest, and he asked the Hindustan Lever board to retain the product.

INDIA AND REGALIA

The last word in brand should possibly belong to Maharani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur. In her lifetime she had become a global icon for beauty, elegance, cultivated taste and India’s regalia.

When she died, The Economist published her obituary, something it does rather selectively. It ended that piece with how she tried to get rid of the foul smell in the cell she was confined to, by pouring French perfume into its drains.

French perfume had wafted across the entire complex that evening. Whether the story is apocryphal or not, it is pretty obvious that The Economist had bought into her brand.

The author is a Delhi-based commentator.

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