Think buying journey
When my dad was growing up during the 1950s, in a very large single-parent family, there was never enough food to go around. Eleven mouths to feed meant that he lived in times of scarcity. There were days when he and his brothers waited outside the bakery late in the day with hessian sacks ready to collect the stale bread that would be thrown out. In those days, manufacturing standards varied, so quality was an advantage; it was something that a business owner could lead and differentiate with. Producing high-quality products that lasted meant that you could charge extra. Today most products are good enough. Standards are adequate across the board. Our frame for 'lasting' has changed. We don't expect to sit on the same sofas for twenty years like our parents and their parents did. We like our fashion fast; the faster it gets from catwalk to retailer, the better. We accept (sometimes reluctantly) that the life of a smartphone might be two years at best, while expecting an exceptional user experience as standard for any product or that evening. Within the family, anything that could be passed down was—threadbare coats and worn-out shoes were handed down and on and had several lives. What mattered was that they were functional and useful. service. So, what's left? We have come to care about all parts of the buying journey as much as we care about ownership. That mindset is reflected in how much we now value design and in how much time, thought, care and money companies devote to creating the perfect unboxing experience.