Costco, the sixth largest retailer in the world, succeeds because of its adeptness in breaking the rules of retail common sense. Costco has no advertising for non-members, though contained in a vacuous space, they offer no signage, then when you check out they do not bag your purchase. On top of that, the Costco store contains a mere 3,600 SKUs. Supermarkets offer around 25,000 and a typical Walmart can tally 142,000 SKUs under its roof. At Costco, if you want ketchup, you get just one choice, not 12. And all this comes with a membership fee; the shopper has to pay to even enter the store. But it works, and here’s why:
PANORAMIC STORE PLANNING
After transcending those barriers to entry, once you walk through Costco’s doors, the store is clearly set before you. It’s a carefully choreographed movement. The store–a three-acre, 148,000 square foot warehouse–at first glance appears overwhelming. The store layout however, offers a panoramic view of each of its shopping districts.
In comparison, Ikea stores create a circuitous but forcefully maneuvered “yellow brick road.” You survey each Ikea district only at your point of arrival there, whereas at Costco, the consumer can visually survey the entire store at its entrance, taking in the racetrack retail plan that will lead them past each of the Costco shopping districts they have already visually anticipated.
Upon entry, the Costco visitor is met by the “luxe” offerings of televisions, computers, and electronics. Add the unexpected but exotic offerings: a Cartier watch or a Prada handbag, or, on at least one occasion, an original Picasso. They may be for sale at a much reduced price, but likely for only a fleeting moment.
As the customer continues along, the racetrack infield features home, seasonal, and lifestyle selections on low-profile racks that allow for open sight lines across any point of the store. Beyond, floor-to-ceiling racks of hard goods ring the outside of the racetrack while fresh food is found at the racetrack’s far end. The very outside of the track is home to practical staples, including toilet paper, whose location requires consumers to pass many impulse buys.
CURATE MY KETCHUP
Costco also serves as a commodity editor that we can trust. There is a sentiment in shopping psychology that we as consumers suffer from a burden of choice and resultant overload anxiety. More than ever, we rely on social editors–people in whom we have faith or institutions whose values we identify with–to make simple decisions for us. Shoppers can freeze at the sight of an entire corridor of breakfast cereals, but Costco pre-selects and makes only one or two offerings. While Costco’s motivation may be efficiency, it ends up offering the customer simplicity and less stress, increasingly valued commodities.
INNOCENCE BELIES STRATEGY
After the checkout, the food court offers–in this case very similar to Ikea–a hot dog at $1.50, the same price since 1985. It’s again indicative of the company’s concerted effort, if not culture, to provide ever more value for its members while holding prices steady–or reducing them. It creates a situation where even the most determined single-item hunter shopper will be persuaded into many additional purchases. This carefully orchestrated layout of temptation and choreography results in an unexpected shopping spree that makes Costco a genius at seducing and catering to its customers at the same time. All this contained in a seemingly innocent warehouse.
