The Secret Of Selling To Over 50's Grandparents
by: Marrisse Whittaker
An unwanted house guest arrived at our place a few weeks back and despite my best efforts to ignore him, he seems to be hanging around way too long. Rumour has it he may even stick around forever.
I hope not. Few house guests have been such a pain, popping up out of the blue, putting the kybosh on everyday activities. Believe me, when Arthur rears his ugly head in the kitchen it's impossible to even prepare a meal, let alone open a bottle of nicely chilled wine without him spoiling everything.
I sought expert advice of course, on how to get rid. The doctor simply shrugged. "Take an anti- inflammatory" She counseled, poking her finger around the fleshy bit between my wrist and thumb, whilst I tried to scrape myself off the ceiling. "Just a touch of Osteoarthritis". She looked at me like it was, after all, only to be expected.
"Arthritis? Just a touch of Arthur? What…at MY age?" I was gob smacked. Actually, my age is currently 52, though in my mind I'm still just out of my teenage years. I can still hurl myself in to a sideways spin down the local sand dunes for example, with the best of my grandkids. I can hike up and down hill and dale and chuck myself around a dance floor on occasion in my high heeled sling backs, I don't want a condition associated with old folk!
I guess I'm not alone in this. It's not that I give a toss that I'm over 50. It's the way people generally, including professionals like doctors and even those in the market for selling to people over 50, want to shroud their presentations in somber tones and dress them up in shades of dreary grey, pale blue and faded pink. It's this attitude, rather than clocking up the years, that puts you off ever wanting to reach the "elderly" category.
"Elderly" by the way, is getting to be a much younger condition, have you noticed? Seniors used to be over 60, and then it was over 50. Our local gym recently offered a special class for over 40's. It was armchair aerobics for Gods sake! Soon 5 year olds will be labeled elderly and consigned to the has-been category.
Isn't it about time that society wised up? My own great granny might have felt elderly at 50 - she'd had 10 kids by then, took in washing to make ends meet and had no modern gadgets to help her with the housework, no nanny to help her with the kids and had to darn socks and mend clothes as Primark didn't exist in the 1890's. But it's about time that those who should be in the know got themselves up to date on over 50's today.
I might have suddenly come down with a touch of Arthur, but if I have I don't want some sad old gadget to help me screw the lids of stuff. I want funky. I want fun - and I still want my funky fun gadget to help me screw the lids off stuff.
If, at some stage in life I need, for example, an electric scooter to get about, I want a range of colours to light up my day. Sky blue pink with purple dots, or psychedelic if I so wish. I don't want to be fobbed off with bad design and a sludge one-colour-suits-all-old-crumblies carriage.
by: Marrisse Whittaker
  |
An unwanted house guest arrived at our place a few weeks back and despite my best efforts to ignore him, he seems to be hanging around way too long. Rumour has it he may even stick around forever.
I hope not. Few house guests have been such a pain, popping up out of the blue, putting the kybosh on everyday activities. Believe me, when Arthur rears his ugly head in the kitchen it's impossible to even prepare a meal, let alone open a bottle of nicely chilled wine without him spoiling everything.
I sought expert advice of course, on how to get rid. The doctor simply shrugged. "Take an anti- inflammatory" She counseled, poking her finger around the fleshy bit between my wrist and thumb, whilst I tried to scrape myself off the ceiling. "Just a touch of Osteoarthritis". She looked at me like it was, after all, only to be expected.
"Arthritis? Just a touch of Arthur? What…at MY age?" I was gob smacked. Actually, my age is currently 52, though in my mind I'm still just out of my teenage years. I can still hurl myself in to a sideways spin down the local sand dunes for example, with the best of my grandkids. I can hike up and down hill and dale and chuck myself around a dance floor on occasion in my high heeled sling backs, I don't want a condition associated with old folk!
I guess I'm not alone in this. It's not that I give a toss that I'm over 50. It's the way people generally, including professionals like doctors and even those in the market for selling to people over 50, want to shroud their presentations in somber tones and dress them up in shades of dreary grey, pale blue and faded pink. It's this attitude, rather than clocking up the years, that puts you off ever wanting to reach the "elderly" category.
"Elderly" by the way, is getting to be a much younger condition, have you noticed? Seniors used to be over 60, and then it was over 50. Our local gym recently offered a special class for over 40's. It was armchair aerobics for Gods sake! Soon 5 year olds will be labeled elderly and consigned to the has-been category.
Isn't it about time that society wised up? My own great granny might have felt elderly at 50 - she'd had 10 kids by then, took in washing to make ends meet and had no modern gadgets to help her with the housework, no nanny to help her with the kids and had to darn socks and mend clothes as Primark didn't exist in the 1890's. But it's about time that those who should be in the know got themselves up to date on over 50's today.
I might have suddenly come down with a touch of Arthur, but if I have I don't want some sad old gadget to help me screw the lids of stuff. I want funky. I want fun - and I still want my funky fun gadget to help me screw the lids off stuff.
If, at some stage in life I need, for example, an electric scooter to get about, I want a range of colours to light up my day. Sky blue pink with purple dots, or psychedelic if I so wish. I don't want to be fobbed off with bad design and a sludge one-colour-suits-all-old-crumblies carriage.
No comments:
Post a Comment