When I arrived home in Munich after my trip to Amsterdam, I had a full mailbox waiting for me. Among the pile was a letter from the real estate agency that rented me an apartment.
The last time I heard from them, they asked if I would be willing to participate in an advertising campaign. According to the agent, a photographer would want to take pictures of me in my home, “doing everyday things.”
“Everyday to who?” I asked Johann, who was visiting at the time.
He shrugged. I was, at that moment, sitting in the kitchen in a pair of men’s sweatpants and typing emails. It was noon but I hadn’t yet washed my face. Why would I? In twenty minutes, I was planning to execute a series of weighted squats in my living room. My face could wait. The sweats could stay. Welcome to my everyday.
I walked across the kitchen and dropped a coffee capsule into the Nespresso machine.
“Look at me!” I said. “I’m cooking!”
That agency had no idea who they were dealing with.
Turns out I had little to worry about. After receiving the initial request, I never heard back from the agency. As someone who works in marketing, I didn’t bother to follow up. These things change, and if I had to guess how they changed in this case, I would say they killed the idea altogether. That would be wise, actually.
After all, why would a rental agency that specializes in international moves place an ad in a German newspaper? Who, exactly, shows up in Munich looking for an apartment and begins their search in print? It’s 2018 and things have evolved. If I were them, I’d put that money towards digital: SEO, paid search, online ads, social. That’s where their renters are.
Then again, I suppose the piece could be directed at apartment owners who want to list their units with the agency. Still, a print ad hardly seems like the most efficient way to build a customer base. If they’re after homeowners, the agency would probably be better off creating a referral program for existing clients or offering an incentive package to new customers. What are they messing around with newspapers for? I’d like to see the engagement numbers on that.
Never mind modeling. This company should hire me as a marketing consultant.
But, as it turns out, the agency did go through with the ad. That’s what the letter they sent said.
Dear Nora: (Yes, Nora)
Thanks so much for your cooperation and willingness to participate in the interview. We ended up going with someone else.
I could not believe it – not that they selected another person for the ad, but that they sent me a hand-written letter to tell me about it. Since when do I need to be notified that I didn’t receive a job that I never applied for? Since never – unless the company in question decides to include €50 in the envelope, in which case I will be happy to receive their rejection letters all day long. I actually couldn’t believe any of it: the request, the letter, the money. This is not at all my everyday.
Later, when I told Johann about the letter, he had the same reaction.
“They sent you a letter for that?” he asked.
“Yes, they sent Nora a letter,” I answered. “But listen. They also gave me 50 bucks.”
“For what?” he asked.
“I have no idea!” I replied, looking at the letter again. “My ‘cooperation and willingness to participate in the interview’, I guess.”
I shrugged.
“So let me get this straight,” Johann said, holding up one hand. “They paid you not to model?”
“Well that’s one way of looking at it,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Actually, it’s pretty much the only way of looking at it, and I’m totally fine with it. 50 bucks for not a moment’s work? I love life as an non-model.
But Johann’s question touched a nerve. If they paid me not to participate, who did they end up picking? The obvious solution would be to track down the newspaper and find out. But I didn’t really have the energy for that. Besides, I’d rather speculate.
Drawing on my marketing experience, I decided that the agency would want to feature a couple, as opposed to a single. Two people make for better pictures and couples make for safer tenants – those are facts. I, on the other hand, have limited audience appeal. Not many people will see me standing at my Nespresso machine and think, “That’s the life I want.” This, by the way, is all advertising is.
More likely than not, the couple would European. As another rental agency pointed out to me, Americans are not highly prized tenants. If the agency was trying to entice homeowners, then they would want to showcase their very best renters. So white, English-speaking Europeans – the more Nordic the better.
Finally, the company would want to feature someone with an easily recognized profession: engineer, doctor, consultant, banker. An important person with an important-sounding job. A stable income with a steady schedule. Not a “marketing specialist” whose Google results include tweets about Beyonce and a blog post about falling off a boat launch.
So that’s my profile: European couple, possibly Swedish, with at least one lucrative career between them. If anyone has the interest on tracking down the answer, the paper is called Suddentsche Zeitung and the company is Mr. Lodge. The ad was printed sometime around Easter. Happy hunting – better you than me.
But really, my explanation for why I lost the job is far more simple than that. I blame my couch.
Just look at that thing! Everything is wrong: the color, the style, the size, the fabric… it’s every fundamental design mistake rolled into one glorious piece of furniture. You cannot take a picture in my apartment and avoid the couch. I suspect the photographer took one look at the stock photos on file and said, “I can’t work around that. Get me a Swede with better taste in furniture.”
“I really think it’s the sofa,” I complained to Johann. “I knew that sofa was going to be a problem for me!”
“It’s a pretty ugly sofa,” he agreed.
I sighed. “That’s sofa’s holding me back.”
He laughed.
“I could be a model right now,” I said, shaking my head. “That could have been my big break. And I blew it. We all blew it.”
I guess some things just aren’t meant to be. Like the old marketing mix says: Right place, right time, right sofa.
Yep, it’s definitely the sofa.
That took me down some entertaining googling and found me this:
http://www.sueddeutsche.de/muenchen/hausbesuche-kommen-sie-rein-1.3922107
Thought it might amuse you!
HA! Well hey… the profile of who to feature in an ad vs. who to feature in an article are quite different. Thanks for tracking that down :) The priest and his tiny Murphy bed is my favourite… although “big family” is a close second.
Wait, wait. I’m still stuck on the fact that they mailed you money. WHAT.
Oh yes. I know. Easiest 50 bucks I ever made!