During a recent hotel stay I came across this familiar tag, hanging in the bathroom.
As hotel guests, we’re empowered to make the decision about whether to reuse our towels or get fresh ones. They’ve framed this as an environmental issue, which it is, but it’s also about customers improving the bottom line for the hotel. So it’s a wisely-framed message; I suspect it works reasonably well (although I wonder about housekeeping staff in this equation; if they are seeking tips then perhaps that’s why I see fresh towels as often as I not).
In the shower itself, I found this dispenser.
Here’s the message in detail
A similar dynamic; if you give up a little something, you save the environment. However, in this case, you don’t have a choice, and more importantly, the packaging has a significant impact upon the experience. That dispenser connotes generic, low-quality shower goo, not the delightful little cleansing treats found in hotels.
This is a design/experience/messaging challenge that they just ceded. The goodness of environmental contribution could be better conveyed (even that blue tag is better looking and more enthusiastically written than the dispenser copy). The dispenser could reward you in the interaction. The quality of ingredients, normally messaged by the packaging, could be explicitly demonstrated (an interesting, if not entirely successful example is Method on Virgin America).
Related: The rooms in Seattle’s Edgewater Hotel have lovely big bottles of shampoo ($25 if you take them) but they lose some of the appeal when you see these bottles used by housekeeping to refill ‘em.
Tags: environment, experience design, generic, hotel, messaging, packaging, persuasion, quality, shampoo, soap
Your observation at the Edgewater reminds me of the “disney effect” promoted in a previous consulting job of mine. The idea was that, while clients were in the office, everything worked like magic. Which is to say seamlessly and without the client having to ever think about it. It was more than being on best client-behavior, it was about anticipating and acting on their needs. It’s a philosophy I’ve carried with me since those days. Interestingly, though, I was later involved (tangentially) in a study carried out by a luxury hotel chain that indicated there is such a thing as being “too perfect” If everything is taken care of before you can even think of it- that’s just the problem – you (read: the customer) never think of it, so there’s no opportunity for you to connect the service provider with providing that exceptional feeling of not-wanting. Though this cart is the kind of behind-the-scenes thing no one needs to see. Seeing is believing – and whatever stories we tell ourselves about how our hotel rooms are prepared the harsh reality is there for us on these carts with the goo refill tubes next to our coffee mugs and extra spoons.
Comment by Beth 11.07.12 @ 5:52 pmSo interesting!
I wonder about how one might design the backstage-comes-frontstage housekeeping trolleys to make them delighters. I’ve seen hotels where the people that operate those carts are just so authentically personable and greet you in a way that are indeed delighters. But I wonder about the devices and their contents and what it reveals and how it could be more exciting. Like if you saw the cart down the hall you’d be thinking “oh great, they are coming to my room next!” But if you figure that having your room cleaned is just par for the course, then it’s not that exciting to see it about to happen.
I was recently at a Kimpton where they tried to differentiate – I guess – on the service aspect of housekeeping. They left me this really weird note: http://www.flickr.com/photos/steveportigal/8070909805/in/photostream
Comment by Steve Portigal 11.07.12 @ 5:59 pm