I read an article recently about the fact that social networks have become an indirect place for promotion of cafés and restaurants: people want to share the good times they’re having, and the more beautiful or artfully decorated or personal the place is, the more people share.
I came into this anonymous café in a Paris train station. It’s got nothing so particular that you would want to post on Instagram about: bay windows, three barristas, banal tables, banal chairs. A few armchairs, where you can’t go because they’re assaulted by the people who’re waiting for their trains. I don’t mind taking a padded bench, my back to the wall, watching people come and go, absent-mindedly reading a book while waiting for a friend.
I ordered a cappuccino, because I like it. (This last sentence sponsored by the international lazy blog association.)
You know how they sprinkle a bit of cocoa powder atop the cream? The barrista did it, and look how nicely it’s done:
“I love” — yeah but what? You forgot to write it, or more probably you didn’t have enough room in my cup, whatever.
Here’s what I think happened in the barrista’s bosses’ mind: let’s push the envelope a little bit, add something that will make us stand out and we’ll be on Instagram in no time.
So, sorry but:
- I have no Instagram account;
- I forgot to note the café’s brand name.
Next time, who knows.
— And this, kids, is how our daunting hero defeated a marketing masterplan.