I have a bit of a sock problem

I love brand new socks so much it hurts sometimes.

I’ve always maintained that, if I were to win the lottery, the purest waste of money that could be better suited towards planning for the future or any manner of altruistic purposes, would be spent so that each and every day for the rest of my life I’d put on a brand-new pair of socks.

Never worn. Never washed. Just… off the shelf and onto my feet for the day. That initial feeling of the first new sock? Bliss.

I guess, in essence, that’s me letting my freak flag fly, as the kids say. That or I love socks so much I’m chopped, unc. (Did you hear my kids’ eyes roll from where you are?)

You can keep your branded water bottle or your stress ball. Hold on to your company logo pen that stops working somewhere between the exhibit hall and the airport. And don’t get me started on “power blocks.” shudder

Socks.

My work travel can be streaky at times, but one general benefit for me at a conference is the sheer quantity of new socks I can get my hands on. See me at a conference or a trade show, and you’ll see me with socks in tow. (Not in toe. Maybe over toe.)

I also actually wear them throughout the months and years that follow (ideally once, so that a new pair can come bounding along behind them…) It’s a bit of a “monkey on my back” situation… some of these branded socks last longer in my possession than the marketing leaders who approved the purchase order for them in the first place.

And… as a marketer… it definitely shows me we should spend more time thinking about how we earn a place in someone’s life. If you’ve got branded socks, for example, you’ve got a spot in mine.

Fact: Utility is underrated.

Marketers love novelty, especially in the form of the most unique creative or the out-of-nowhere activation. Anything to get the booth attendee scan or the scroll-stopper, right? Nothing wrong with that, either. Novelty and usefulness, however, are wildly different things.

Novelty makes someone look. Utility gives them a reason to care.

A clever giveaway might earn a smile at a conference booth – while a useful one makes it into the suitcase, survives the trip home, and eventually becomes part of someone's routine.

And to blow this idea up to be grander – this is a distinction that needs to extend far beyond promotional swag.

Think about the marketing you genuinely appreciate. Maybe it's the framework or guide that helps you make a difficult decision. Could be the calculator that answers a question you couldn't easily answer yourself. Clear product side-by-sides that make comparisons super clear.

The common thread isn't production value or cleverness; It's that the audience gets something worthwhile even if they never become a customer.

So much of our marketing is designed around what the business wants the audience to do: click, register, download, book a meeting, request a demo.

Those actions do matter – I swear! I often have my KPIs and OKRs built around those specific things. Marketing does, and should, produce commercial outcomes that can be gleamed from the activities and ensuing impacts above.

But there's an important question that often gets skipped: What does the person receive in exchange for the attention we're asking them to give us?

If the answer is essentially “an opportunity to hear more about us,” then womp womp. You’ve already overestimated your own appeal.

The exchange gets changed… by utility.

It starts with the audience's problem, not the company's message. It asks what would be helpful, clarifying, reassuring, time-saving, or genuinely enjoyable. And when we get that right, the marketing doesn't feel like an interruption.

It feels like something worth having.

The best marketing fit

Here's the second thing I like about conference socks: They don't ask me to change my behavior. (Nor do they judge me for the pile of them I ultimately cram back in an already crowded suitcase because I CAN NOT BE STOPPED.)

See, I already wear socks when it’s not the blistering Austin summer months between February and November.

Your branded swag socks have simply given me a pair I might choose instead of any of the other mounting options in my closet.

It’s a small distinction, but one with a much bigger marketing implication.

The easier we make it for people to incorporate our value into what they already do, the more likely that value is to endure.

Consider the difference between asking someone to adopt an entirely new habit versus making an existing habit easier:

·      An unexpectedly useful email arrives when someone is already planning their week

·      Well-designed resources help a buyer prepare for a meeting they're already having

·      A product integration removes steps from a workflow someone already depends on

·      A thoughtful customer experience anticipates what people need at the moment they need it.

In each case, the brand isn't demanding that the customer reorganize their life around the company's priorities, it's adapting to the customer's reality.

That matters so much. Attention is finite, habits are powerful, and most people really, really, really do not want to become an active participant in our marketing funnels.

They’re busy, dude. They're trying to do their jobs, and solve their problems. They want to get through their days.

A brand that understands this will always have the advantage. They make themselves useful within the lives people are already living. But even then, adoption depends on a fundamental exchange: the new behavior must deliver enough value to justify the effort.

Marketing should reduce friction. Not create more obligations. Gross!

I think this is where my sock ‘problem’ is the most useful to me. The booths that are handing them over aren’t just doing so to lighten their post-show shipment load, and me taking them isn’t the success story in this. That’s all just… distribution.  

Me putting them in the suitcase with upwards of 17 of their new peers is a little more encouraging. And then when that blissful moment of putting the first new one on in the morning takes place… that’s adoption. On the rare occasion I’ll reach for the pair again, suddenly we’ve got an experience that was so meaningful it was worth repeating.

Start asking yourself as a marketer, ‘did I create something people voluntarily came back to?’ It isn’t a fool-proof substitution for a near-term business outcome. And sometimes it won’t turn into an opportunity or a sale at all. And sometimes that’s a pretty good start, yeah? Not just having our work get noticed but have it get welcomed back.

Cleaning out the sock drawer

I don't want to overstate the commercial significance of conference socks. My closet full of branded footwear isn't evidence of pipeline contribution, and no marketing leader should defend an event budget by pointing to my ankles. (I mean, also, back off!) Sometimes the underlying lesson of not being louder or flashier is a win but being more useful is, is really valuable.

Make something worth keeping. Make it easy to use. Give people a reason to come back.

And worst-case scenario, throwing a really good pair of socks out there isn’t a terrible place to start.