The Kim Kardashian Principle: Why Shameless Sells (and How to Do It Right)
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The Kim Kardashian Principle: Why Shameless Sells (and How to Do It Right)
256eBook
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Overview
In the instant New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Washington Post bestseller, Jeetendr Sehdev inspires people everywhere to learn from the way celebrities engage their fan bases.
In the space of five years, Jeetendr Sehdev has shaken up the world of entertainment by revealing how social media stars generate more obsession than the Hollywood A-list. What can he teach us about making our own ideas, products, and services break through?
Sehdev shows why successful images today–the most famous being Kim Kardashian–are not photoshopped to perfection, but flawed, vulnerable, and in your face. This total transparency generates a level of authenticity that traditional marketing tactics just can’t touch.
From YouTube sensations like Jenna Marbles to billionaire tech mogul Elon Musk, The Kim Kardashian Principle reveals the people, products, and brands that do it best. After all, in a world where a big booty can break the Internet and the president is a reality TV star, self-obsession is a must-have. No posturing, no apologies, and no shying away from the spotlight.
The Kim Kardashian Principle is a fresh, provocative, and eye-opening guide to understanding why only the boldest and baddest ideas will survive–and how to make sure yours is one of them.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781250107534 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | St. Martin's Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 03/21/2017 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 256 |
| File size: | 7 MB |
About the Author
Jeetendr Sehdev is the world's leading celebrity expert. A trailblazer in pop culture insights, he has become one of the most prominent figures in celebrity news and a sought-after advisor to top international companies. Jeetendr's research on the power of YouTube stars continues to make global headlines and has gained him influencer status and over a million subscribers on social media. He is a familiar face on shows like Access Hollywood, The Insider and CNN Tonight and he regularly writes opinion pieces for publications like The Guardian and Forbes. A graduate of Oxford University and Harvard Business School, Jeetendr is a British national who now lives in sunny Los Angeles.
Read an Excerpt
The Kim Kardashian Principle
Why Shameless Sells (and How to Do It Right)
By Jeetendr Sehdev
St. Martin's Press
Copyright © 2017 Jeetendr SehdevAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-250-10752-7
CHAPTER 1
How I Arrived at the Kim Kardashian Principle
Jeetendr Sehdev is a cyborg who thinks all human beings around him exist solely as brands.
— GAWKER MEDIA
There may be some truth to that comment, but my journey from buttoned-up British schoolboy to celebrity authority to so-called cyborg has been far from simple. And if I wasn't doing something right, I wouldn't be getting noticed in Hollywood.
My fascination with celebrities goes back to my childhood in Bristol, England, where I grew up obsessing over everyone from Duran Duran to Wacko Jacko with an intensity that, quite frankly, confused my down-to-earth, Indian-born parents. Back then, celebrities really were larger than life — skinny ties, big hair, and world-conquering attitudes. My formal education began at Amberley House School, a British preparatory school where I learned the little book of English etiquette, paid attention during my Latin lessons, and developed a love for public speaking in my drama classes. But it wasn't until my father took ten-year-old me on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Los Angeles that I found my calling — the one that determined the course of my life.
When I returned to England, I attached a poster of the City of Angels, with a crystal-clear view of the city skyline and the Hollywood sign, over my bed. Every night, I escaped to Hollywood, if only in my mind, to survive the bullying culture of Colston's, my all-boys secondary school. I knew I had to break free from the rigid, hierarchical, "character-building" world in which I was trapped. I needed to get back to L.A. One day, with my face smashed against the wall, receiving my fifth wedgie of the week, it dawned on me — at the moment the elastic snapped — that one way I could get to California was to become a plastic surgeon. Despite a brief detour into runway modeling (we all have our moments), I stayed on track and went to Bristol University to pursue a career in medicine. But after my first behind-the-scenes look at the UK's distinctly unglamorous National Health System, I realized that my desire to heal others was misplaced.
Instead, upon graduation, I pivoted 180 degrees and decided to become a power banker, knowing it would allow me to travel far and wide, shop on Jermyn Street (look it up), and live my idea of the high life. I lasted about five minutes on the trading floor, and promptly requested a transfer to the private wealth division of JP Morgan, where I soon found myself mingling with members of the British elite. After two years, just shy of my twenty-fourth birthday, I'd had my fill of polo matches and auction houses and was ready for a little more substance, so I turned to the world of consulting and started learning about the inner workings of a range of Fortune 500 companies. As a management consultant, I learned a lot, but after a few years of number crunching and data forecasting, I was more than itching to exercise the creative side of my brain and return to the world of academia, so off I went to Oxford University to study history.
I was still determined to get to Hollywood, but what was left? I'd rejected medicine, banking, business consulting. Surely there was something that would get me there. In the last week of my finals at Oxford, after watching the Joe Pesci movie With Honors, shot at Harvard University, I decided my next stop would be Cambridge, Massachusetts, to get my MBA. No, it wasn't L.A., but it was three thousand miles closer than England. It's true, I went to Harvard to get to Hollywood, which makes about as much sense as the rest of this story.
I left with an MBA and a coveted offer at advertising agency Ogilvy & Mather in New York City. I was home at last, metaphorically speaking, and branding was the key to unlocking the door — the perfect combination of art, science, and business. It was a coming-of-age of sorts, and while I still had my sights on the West Coast, I loved my fifth-floor walk-up in NOLITA (despite the bathtub in the kitchen), and knew that I was finally on my way.
After a year at Ogilvy, I dropped a bombshell. I wanted to transfer to Los Angeles and work in celebrity public relations. My bosses were surprised to say the least, and they didn't believe my Ivy League education and work experience directing prestigious brands like American Express and Dove was quite the right fit for celebrity PR. Besides, they had gotten used to me working 25/8 and wooing big clients. But I was determined. I knew there was more to the red carpet than most people believed (i.e., it wasn't just superficial, soul-destroying, himbo work), and I was determined to prove it. Besides, there's a People magazine whore in all of us.
Once in L.A., I began to get a glimpse of what I was really interested in — the inner workings and behind-the-scenes antics that powered Hollywood's biggest deals. Over the next several years at business meetings, in hotel bathrooms, on movie sets, and at award ceremonies, I received a crash course in business that neither Oxford nor Harvard could rival. All the rules that I'd learned about strategy, planning, reason, and rationality went out the window.
Emotion was everything in Hollywood. I saw a studio executive beg to have his latest crush cast in a TV show, an A-list actress fake her pregnancy because she couldn't afford to gain weight, and a teen heartthrob throw more than a tantrum because his manager forgot his steroids. I couldn't believe the gulf between their images and their actualities. These celebrities were brands. They had clearly defined identities that were the premise of their appeal. Just as a strong logo instantly communicates what a product is about, these celebrities' engineered characteristics, behavior, and words conveyed who they are. And just as a good brand makes an emotional connection with consumers, successful celebrities do the same.
Bringing these insights together with those I had learned from my banking, consulting, and advertising days, I embarked on a new journey of my own creation — celebrity branding. It was a radical approach: each celebrity as a unique brand, a unique product, and not just one of many generic actors, musicians, or athletes. I planned to base my work not only on empirical research and insight but also on my own intuition.
As I applied the research techniques of branding — focus groups, online surveys, regression analysis, and ethnographies — to celebrities, a methodology began to emerge, one that I not-so-modestly christened JAAM™ (Jeetendr's Alternate Aptitude Methodology) because it "jammed" together the skills usually divided between the right brain and the left brain into a powerful whole-brain way of thinking. Besides, having now studied the arts and the sciences, worked in banking and advertising, dated Oxonians and Angelenos, I had developed a rather ambidextrous brain myself, and I couldn't help but think in both scientific and artistic terms. Until I developed JAAM, marketers could only guess the influence of a celebrity based on their perceived star power (a poorly defined concept at best), or even worse, their number of Twitter followers. But my research revealed something contradictory: popularity does not translate into influence. Numbers are just a starting point, a platform from which you can investigate deeper truths by examining the psychological, motivational, and emotional needs of audiences — and what they respond to might surprise you.
Getting SELFIEd
And this is how I came to name the Kim Kardashian Principle. I realized that uncovering the truths about how people really build relationships with celebrities and how the most successful celebrities communicate with their fans could be marketing gold for anyone with an idea, product, or service to sell. Let me take you through my discovery of SELFIE, the six fundamentals of the principle.
I've always been more of a high tea than a hip-hop guy, so little did I know that an invitation to a party in the Hollywood Hills would change all that, not to mention net me a few death threats. At the bash, I noticed the DJ was playing everyone from artist A to B to C, but not artist Z. Of course, I'm talking about Mr. Shawn Corey Carter, also known as Jay Z. The music world had perpetuated an image of the rap star as phenomenally successful and equally influential, with extra points for bagging Queen Bey. But that perception didn't quite ring true at the bash and amid his target audience who prided themselves on being "real." I've rarely been fooled by the smoke and mirrors of Hollywood, but even I had assumed Jay Z was the king of hip-hop, so I was transfixed. I decided to investigate this odd discrepancy, in the name of better understanding hip-hop audiences and their relationship to celebrities. What I discovered was that, far from being influential, Jay Z was viewed as a phony, a sellout, someone who was no longer authentic.
In 2013, when this — my first big interview — was published in Business Insider, the reaction was immediate and visceral. The story went viral. Having surveyed a thousand Millennials, I had struck a nerve — a really raw one. While the media had been telling the world that Jay Z was the best thing since sliced bread, I had revealed the exact opposite. And it wasn't just my opinion, it was a demonstrable fact. The conclusion was simple but striking: staying true to your roots and keeping it real, by not having some sort of façade, is what resonates with audiences.
I was blown away by the public. I had never expected my first interview to make headlines around the globe. Nevertheless, I was keen to use my newfound notoriety, and methodology, to examine other phenomena we take for granted. It was just a matter of time before I turned to the world of sport.
As a Brit, I've always been baffled by the rules of American football. The thought of drinking beer and watching players of the "big game" inflict their fellow countrymen with brain damage was a far cry from strawberries, champagne, and center court at Wimbledon. So I turned my attention to Super Bowl XLVIII and the selection of singer Bruno Mars as the halftime performer. Despite Mars's quick rise to fame, many questioned the NFL's decision. He wasn't a megastar like Madonna, Prince, or Michael Jackson (who performed in 1993, surrounding himself with 3,500 children — what could go wrong there?). However, despite the lukewarm sentiment, I believed Mars to be a clever choice. Apart from the fact that he's an amazing live act, Mars's performances are incredibly intimate. Rather than some distant, unapproachable star on a far-away stage, he seems to almost speak to each member of the audience as an individual. I was so confident in my opinion that I wrote a centerpiece for Adweek just before the event, commending the choice. They were brave enough to run it. Turns out, they were clever enough too. Mars proved to be a super hit for the Super Bowl, attracting 115.3 million viewers, the largest audience in the history of the event, and his performance was met with rave reviews. Mars proved, finally, that larger-than-life is out and intimacy is in, and woe betide the image or event manufactured by professionals — authenticity is the key.
I was now convinced that I was on to something. Debunking myths and exposing the truth was proving addictive. My friends started calling me "the truth teller" (a marginally more flattering term than cyborg), but I was just doing me, doing my best to process a rapidly changing world and shifting entertainment industry.
A trip back to London from glitzy L.A. never fails to provide a timely reality check. It usually comes in the form of my mother; however, this one came from my then-thirteen-year-old nephew, Aakash. Over dinner he asked me, if I was the world expert on celebrities, why wasn't I talking about real celebrities? He was referring, of course, to YouTubers. While conventional wisdom leads us to believe mainstream stars have more power, presence, and influence than their DIY counterparts, my nephew convinced me that a YouTube star's fame was of equal — if not greater — value, and that Millennials are far more likely to be influenced by these candid, honest, and relatable internet icons than more aloof mainstream celebrities. I decided to put his thinking to the test. The rest, as they say, is history. My study went viral, again, and I revealed how YouTube stars have become much more reliable influencers of Millennials than traditional celebrities.
YouTube celebrities were more engaging, relatable, and authentic than their mainstream counterparts because they're not products of the PR industry and Hollywood handlers. Almost as soon as the study was announced in Variety, the Sunday Times and Ad Age, I saw the industry shift before my eyes. Hollywood started to redefine celebrities to include digital influencers. My results not only demonstrated the sheer power of YouTube as a medium, but they also showed me the power of leadership. These new celebrities were leaders because they were raw and intimate, not in spite of it. They represent a new opportunity for brands that have the courage to lead with their hearts — to be real, no matter how awful it might look. YouTube CEO Susan Wojcicki seemed to agree and decided to build her VidCon 2015 keynote around it. I was honored.
I was bona fide hooked. I read magazines and newspapers, watched talk shows, joined chat forums — anything for inspiration. I started applying the JAAM to corporate brands: I predicted the demise of the NFL within five years when interviewed by ESPN in September 2014. I kept fine-tuning my authenticity detector and seeing through superstar images to the reality behind them. And the idea caught on, in a big way. My social media following exploded; I was suddenly the go-to guy for commentary on stars, their images, and their antics.
Along with the love, however, came the hate. There were many who challenged my predictions, which included Ellen DeGeneres's success hosting the Oscars, Neil Patrick Harris's failure at the same gig, Justin Bieber's ability to turn his brand around, and the inevitable disaster of the Oprah Winfrey and Weight Watchers partnership, among others. I welcomed it all, including the radio silence after I was proven right.
* * *
While on a trip to the South of France, I received news of an impending royal wedding back home, which gave me another idea of how to explode myths with my methods.
Living in the good old US of A had changed my perspective on the royal family: specifically, while I once heralded them as national treasures, I now considered them tagalongs who cost more than they were worth ($46 million per year of taxpayers' money, to be exact). So when the latest royal, Kate Middleton, entered the household (after a wedding that cost the economy $6 billion), the Palace felt some pressure to prove her worth. It came in the form of a PR stunt called "the Kate Middleton Effect," a supposed windfall for the fashion industry worth an estimated $1.2 billion. Apparently, everything the princess touched in Topshop would turn to gold and sell out in seconds. Only there was a problem: I wasn't buying it — and judging by the unchanged style of hundreds of millions of women around the world, neither were they.
Having worked with the most influential fashion icons and brands in the world, I intuited that the Duchess of Cambridge's "effect" would be nowhere near the value being promoted. Sure enough, my research showed that Michelle Obama, America's first lady, was viewed as over ten times more influential in terms of style, and even Lauren Pope of The Only Way is Essex and Snooki of Jersey Shore fame beat out the duchess. Eek. In truth, Kate's financial impact was a fraction of the claimed amount, around $300 million. I set the record straight from here to Hamburg and fromUSA Today to Marie Claire.
But what I found just as fascinating as the audacity of the overstatement was the why. Kate was now one of the most famous women in the world and a literal princess ... so why did she come up short when compared to the other fashionistas? The answer, as it always is in England, was the Queen. The Palace's mastermind had orchestrated an image of Kate as too perfect. Sorry, your royal highness, nobody believes or buys perfect today. Lesson learned? Show your flaws.
Truth teller to my friends, professor of celebrity to my students, and celebrity branding authority to the public — these are the results of living and breathing brands and celebrities day and night. Some thought I was both a celebrity and a branding authority, and they began acting as if I was. I started getting recognized at Ralph's, and it was a bit unnerving. I was known for putting influencers on the map, but in reality I had become an influencer myself. Either way, I was just doing me, and it felt good.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Kim Kardashian Principle by Jeetendr Sehdev. Copyright © 2017 Jeetendr Sehdev. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgments ix
Introduction 1
1 How I Arrived at the Kim Kardashian Principle 11
2 Surprise 25
3 Expose 57
4 Lead 87
5 Flaws 125
6 Intimate 159
7 Execute 187
8 Conclusion 205
Notes 211
Index 233