Following in father's insteps
Afew weeks after the handover - and how long ago that seems - an advertisement began to appear in our local papers. The caption read: 'The last thing Hong Kong needs is more foreign heels occupying their land.' It wasn't some extreme political statement, but a wry exhortation to buy footwear designed by Kenneth Cole of New York. Although his products have been available in Hong Kong for several years, Cole has just entered a new joint venture with Dickson Poon. And he thought everyone should know about it.
Cole enjoys his little jokes. 'Did you like it? I was concerned about that one,' he admits. 'A lot of those ideas don't interpret cross-culturally. Across the Atlantic, they don't always get it about heels.' Being a heel, loving your sole, stepping out (but never, of course, stepping aside): these are the linguistic fodder, the footnotes indeed, of Cole's campaigns. Once he ran a huge advertisement on Singapore's billboards that coyly remarked: 'Graffiti and spitting are one thing, but barefoot - now that's a problem.' He grins at the memory. He is a handsome, restless 43-year-old with perfect teeth, and clad from head to toe in clothes that bear his name. 'It's very British, isn't it?' he says of his humour. 'I find myself thinking in puns all the time. I should have been British, so blame my parents.' In that case his parents are twice at fault: not only did they create an American with a transatlantic funny bone, they also made him a designer, although he spent most of his adolescence resisting that notion.
His father, Charles Cole, owned a 5,000-square-foot shoe factory in Brooklyn. To his son the thought of going into the family business bordered on the horrific: 'I hated shoes, the thought of designing them for women was to me the most un-masculine thing you could possibly imagine for any red-blooded male.' So he decided he wanted to be a lawyer, evidently believing that was a more robust career decision. But, three months before he was due to enter New York University law school, his father's manager left and help was needed on the factory floor. Cole nobly stepped into the manager's shoes on a strictly temporary basis.
Six years later, aged 28, he set up his own company. (His father's shoe business was liquidated in 1985.) Now Cole believes the best thing about fashion is that there are no books 'or rules. The further you stray, the better you do'.
At the moment, he is straying all over Asia. His recent visit - to mark the re-launching of the Kenneth Cole shop in Pacific Place and the opening of one in The Landmark - is a mere stop en route to Taipei and Tokyo.
His Asian game plan is to open 25 shops in the next two years. When it is pointed out to him that this is not, perhaps, the most auspicious time to be investing heavily in Southeast Asia, he replies happily: 'In tough times we tend to do more business. We always do well because people seek creative alternatives.' Hmmm. 'I swear! I swear! As accessories, our price-value relationship does well in a difficult economy.' His pricing is certainly consumer-friendly: he has managed to pitch himself exactly halfway between the no-name cheapies and the high-end breath-stoppers, which takes, ahem, clever footwork.
His fans appreciate the good quality, and can enjoy the cool, intellectual benefit of smirking at the wit, while simultaneously - and crucially - paying homage to the cult of the label. That's good marketing.