Do women and men spend money in different ways? On the face of it, not really – Mr Millard and I are locked into the same financial headlock of childcare and mortgage. Yet I feel I have more pressure on my bank account, since he doesn’t have the additional diurnal temptations of handbags, new dresses from Gap or haircuts to tempt him from the straight and narrow. His haircuts cost £8, and he doesn’t carry a handbag. He doesn’t feel the need to buy scented candles. Ever.
Whereas being a modern woman (by which, I mean a fully rounded, civilised adult female with a decent salary, plus slack attitude to one’s bank statement), suggests one tends to suffer from a regular urge to splash out on scented candles, flowers, knitwear and sexy hair conditioner. We like shopping. And we love shopping for brands. Maybe because we invest emotional space in them, almost as if they were dwarf children. Marketing people know this about us.
The other night I had the opportunity to sit next to someone from Procter and Gamble at a very lavish dinner. I was at the BAFTAs. This is because I am a journalist. He was at the BAFTAs because one of his brands is Nicky Clarke, who was doing the hair for all the nominees, and also has a range of P&Gproduced hair care products. Nicky Clarke (the mousse, not the man) is just the right sort of brand for Procter and Gamble. It is luxurious, aspirational, and includes the words ‘Red Carpet’ on its tins.
Is Nicky Clarke hair care good value, I wondered? For good value, I should probably go elsewhere. Herbal Esssences could be a starter. No, Nicky Clarke appeals to women for another reason – as a brand, it fulfils what’s known as ‘opportunistic shopping’. Ladies, this is a marketing phenomenon which affects us, and us only.
Opportunistic shopping is a wholly girl thing. “It is used to describe the habits of women who go into Boots without a list, pick up a wire basket, and spend half an hour wandering around. By the time they come to the till they have bought about £30 of this and that,” says Mr P&G. Nothing which they really need, and nothing which is brand-free, or cheap. Come to think of it, he’s right. Everything in my bathroom cupboard is remorselessly branded.
So you must be an opportunistic shopper, he observed. I felt my feet curl up in my Jimmy Choo sandals. It’s such a delicious thing, though. Wandering around Boots (or anywhere else), wire basket in one hand, the other outstretched to the shelves, selecting lovely brands of hair care and cosmetics which will make me feel luxurious, and special. Yet now I realise I am part of the cosmetics industry’s marketing policy, I am going to start going into Boots’ with a list. And sticking to it. I hope it will work wonders on my bank account.
Author: Rosie Millard