If You Don't Have Big Breasts, Put Ribbons on Your Pigtails (9 page)

11. Never step in front of those you hire.

The boss's place is in the background, getting behind people and lending them support. Once you promote someone to a position of authority, the worst thing you could do is make a decision for her, or let her subordinates go around her to get to you. All too often a boss will let longtime subordinates make an "end run" around the new manager, completely undermining that person's chance to lead effectively.

12. Become a grandparent to your young leaders, not a nervous parent.

Thank them, bless them, pray for them, and spoil them. But don't day-to-day control them. Instead, give them an emotional massage every day, just like the back rubs Nana gave us at bedtime, as she whispered sweetness into our ears.

SIX WAYS TO MOTIVATE

1. Identify someone's hot button, the thing that motivates them.

Just asking, "What would make your job a dream come true?" will yield amazingly attainable answers. Individual hot buttons can run the gamut from financial stability to status, authority, creative expression, or just a comfortable desk chair. But everyone has at least one motivational hot button.

Esther was interested in respect and financial security. The position of first vice president gave her the respect she needed. Each time I sought her counsel on important decisions, her pride was enhanced. She was in charge of the company's money and that made her feel financially secure.

Zero in on someone's hot button, and wrap that person's position around it. By understanding their personal goals, they're able to achieve their professional happiness.

2. Let them name their own price.

Negotiating a price for your own labor is an unnerving experience for everyone. Even the most confident people will second-guess themselves after agreeing on their compensation. When deciding upon the right compensation for a position, ask the person to structure their own compensation package, and then pay them a little bit more. I've always found that people name a lower price than I would have given if I had suggested their

compensation. Also, paying people just a little bit more than they've asked for is the best shortcut 1 know to long-term love and loyalty.

3. Give a bonus instead of a raise.

No matter how much a raise is appreciated, it's soon taken for granted. An unexpected bonus, on the other hand, leaves a sweet, satisfying aftertaste long after the money is spent. In fact, a well-placed bonus conditions the receiver to make extra efforts to say thanks and motivates them to work even harder for the next one.

4. Little kindnesses are the sure road to loyalty.

Nothing is more corporate or less effective than public displays of the boss's appreciation. Grandstanding only serves the guy on the grandstand, and everybody knows it. Instead, express your appreciation one-on-one and let the recipient share your compliment with everyone else.

5. Share your dream.

Show people why and how their role is essential to your dream. Bv sharing your dream, you speak to people's souls and allow them to be part of it.

6. Guard your gold.

Remember that gold shines. After you've molded a great new leader, your competitors will try to poach her. So be darn sure you've already made your leader loyal.

broad wave. "And. hi. I'm Bill Higgins from Higgins Realtors in New Jersey. We're the oldesl and'boldest real estate company in the state,

and I suppose you're the new broker from the city?" He didn't wait for my response. "I heard this PR guy speak at a conference last month in Boston, named Solomon—Steve Solomon. He's from Manhattan and that's what he does, gets people in the paper. You should look him up. He got my name on the front page of the Bergen Record" Higgins bragged. "Yep, right under Nancy Reagan!"

My immediate reaction was Who is this guy? And what the heck is he talking about? But when I returned to the city, I called Steve Solomon. The game of PR was about to begin.

"You charge seven hundred and fifty dollars a monthl Every month? ' I asked in disbelief, whisking my blond bangs away from my eyes. 'Mr. Solomon, that's an awful lot of money: it's more than I'm spending on all our advertising!" My palms were sweating. I stood up to straighten the seams on my new red dress, and paced once around my chair before sitting back down.

Steve Solomon, a dark-suited, serious man with a thoughtful face, explained. 'The best way to make your company known is to put out some sort of survev or report on the marketplace. Something with a lot of numbers—the media love numbers. Maybe compare this year's prices to last year's."

"1 guess that makes sense,'" I said without a clue as to how or where I was going to get $750. "Could we call it something important like the New York City Apartment Price Report?''

"Maybe." he considered diplomatically, jotting a few words in his notebook. "Or how about calling it The Corcoran Croup Report, or, even better. The Corcoran Report.

"The Corcoran Report?" I paused and listened to the sound of that. "But it doesn't mean anything." I said. "No one knows who or what Corcoran is."

"No," he answered, "but do the report and they will.''

Summer. UndercliffAvenue.

My hands were covered with chalk as I finished my masterpiece, "The Largest Sidewalk Snail Game in the History of the World!"' The Snail wriggled up and down the sidewalk, over the curb, and onto Undercliff Avenue. It stretched from Mrs. Rinebold's house, past Mrs. Gibbons', and right up our front steps.

Square after square of symbols and shapes showed the neighborhood kids exactly what to do as they hopped onto each space: first with two feet, then one right foot, and the next commanding a left foot in reverse. Next came one of my tricky spirals I called "spinners," followed by a dozen other variations on and on to the end.

The kids began lining up for their turn to hop, clap, jump, and spin their way around to the finish line.

As usual, Mean Michael Mertz was standing at the head of the line. He darted through the first ten squares, pretending to almost trip on the reverse double spin, then bolted through the last forty spaces, making my Snail look easy.

Fatty Patty stepped up next, and I just knew he was going to hurt himself. There was no way his chubby legs could possibly do my double spinner.

"Wait a minute, Patty!" I said, grabbing my pink chalk and walking over to the square. "I gotta fix one thing." I erased the spinner with the sole of my sneaker, drew two new feet in the same square, and stood up. "Okay, go ahead, Patty."

'Wo way!" Michael Mertz protested loudly. "You can't do that! You can't just go and change it like that!"

"Oh yes she can," Ellen said, defending me.

"No way, no how!" he repeated. "You can't do that!"

All the kids began shouting. It was Timmy Tom who broke the impasse when he peeped, "Why don't we ask Mrs. Corcoran, because she's the mother. 1 ''

I ran up the steps and through the side alley into the kitchen. Mom was at the ironing board.

"Mom!" I blurted, trying to catch my breath. Michael Mertz saj s I can't change a square in my Snail game. Can I?"

"It's your game. Barbara Ann," she said, rendering her decision \\ ithout lifting her eyes off Dad's white shirt, "So make up your own rules."

I bounded down the stairs, shouting Mom's verdict: "My mother says it's my game and I can make up my own rules!"

I stepped off the curb and stared Michael in the face. "And my rules are: It's Patty's turn!"

Fatty Patty finished the game on two solid feet, and I promised myself that tomorrow I'd make my Snail even bigger! I'd start all the way up at the library, come down past the church, and wind my Snail right back up Oxen Hill clear out of Edgewater!

July 1981. The Corcoran Group.

I slid a piece of our new Corcoran Group stationery into my Selec-tric, still thinking about the blank sidewalks of Undercliff Avenue and how I filled them with my Snail games. I stared at the blank page and scrolled up. I knew I had little to work with now, but it was my game, and I was going to make up the rules.

The only information I had gathered for The Corcoran Report was a list of our apartment sales over the last six months, exactly eleven. So, I added up all the sale prices and divided by eleven. I checked it twice and the answer was $254,232.1 rounded the figure up to an even 8255,000 and typed in the words "AVERAGE AP \RTMENT PRICE" next to it.

"There!" I said, surprising myself. "That was pretty easy and the average price seems about right."

I was feeling smart and started thinking that a price per room might also be useful! So. I sat back and pictured all the apartments I had shown over the last few months and how many rooms each one had. I was writing fast and knew that the algebra I had repeated twice in summer school was going to come in handy.

So, let's see, I pondered, as I riffled through the stack of listing forms. It looks like there are a lot more one-bedrooms than two-bedrooms, and a few more two-bedrooms than three-bedrooms. And since one-bedroom apartments have three or three and one half rooms, and two-bedrooms have four or four and one half rooms, and three-bedrooms have either five, six, or seven rooms, then, I thought as I massaged my exploding head, the average apartment in Manhattan must have about four and one quarter rooms! "Yep, that's it," I decided aloud, and began to type.

3B

THE CORCORAN REPORT 1981 MID-YEAR STUDY

"An in-depth 6-month Survey and Analysis of Conditions and Trends in the New York City Luxury Apartment Marketplace. n

AVERAGE APARTMENT PRICE: $255,000'""

AVERAGE ROOM PRICE: $57,000*

'""rounded up to the nearest thousand dollars

For press inquiries contact: Barbara Corcoran, President, The Corcoran Group 212-355-3550

I yanked The Corcoran Report from the typewriter, made Xerox copies, and mailed one to every reporter who had written an article in that Tuesday's New York Times. I even included the sportswriters, figuring that one of them might know somebody rich like Joe Namath who might be looking to buy a big apartment.

IF YOU DON'T HAVE BIG BREASTS 75

Sunday. August 30, 19S1. New York Times.

The headline read:

STUDY SHOWS CO-OP PRICES NEARLY QUINTUPLED

I stared at the headline in absolute disbelief. The story read: "According to Barbara Corcoran, president of The Corcoran Group Real Estate Company, the average price . . . has reached an all-time high of S255,000 . . ."

I read the line again slowly, and then once more out loud. I put the Times back down on my desk and thought, / must be in the middle of some kind of Catholic miracle!

I took out the black-handled scissors from my drawer and carefully cut out the words "According to Barbara Corcoran, president of The Corcoran Group Real Estate Company" I coated the paper with some Cutex nail hardener, blew it dry, and taped it above the rotary dial on my phone.

MOM'S LESSON #9: It's your game, make up your own rules.

THE LESSON LEARNED ABOUT BECOMING A SOMEBODY

The New York Times story put me square in the middle of the Manhattan real estate game, playing it by my own rules.

overheard one of my salespeople pitching for a listing on the phone. "Fin calling from The Corcoran Group," he said to the potential seller. "Let me spell it for you. It's C-O-R-C— Oh, you've heard of

us?r

Unlike advertising, publicity has the power of the third-party endorsement. And advertising could never buy me the credibility of being quoted in that Sunday's New York Times.

Writers need numbers and statistics to substantiate their stories. That makes numbers the slam dunk of all good publicity. Since coop sale prices were considered private and never published, my numbers were as good as anyone else's—maybe even better.

HOW TO MAKE A STATISTICAL REPORT THAT GETS NOTICED

1. Don't follow rules that don't exist.

I had shown enough apartments over the preceding seven years to come to a reasonable conclusion about the size of a typical Manhattan apartment. Although our eleven sales might not have been enough to provide a solid basis for an industry average, they didn't have to be. They just had to be believable for the marketplace.

I had as much right to be in the game as anyone else, and by positioning myself as an authority, I became the authority.

2. Keep the report simple and name it after your business.

Our first Corcoran Report was one page long and had one good hook—sale prices. And since everyone was interested in knowing what the next guy was paying for his apartment, we told them. Besides, it's a lot easier to churn out a simple statistical report than invent a new story every month.

3. Be consistent.

Many of my competitors soon copied our market report, but the) were never consistent in publishing it. The Corcoran Report came out every six months, rain or shine. And reporters learned to rely on it.

4. Always tell the truth.

In the media world, honesty is the key to longevity and there are three good reasons to tell it like it is. even when it. seems to be against your best business interests. First, bad news always prints. And when the market is bad and you have little money for advertising, that's just when you need free publicity most. Next, when you're willing to speak the truth on how bad things really are. reporters learn to trust you. Later, when you announce a market recovery, they believe you. Last, reporting bad news wont fuel a business downturn. Contrary to common belief, it simply labels it and gets it over with.

5. Ignore the naysayers.

When I issued our first Corcoran Report, our most dedicated salespeople argued vehemently against it. They believed that eleven sales were not enough to produce an average price and feared we could lose our credibility. What they didn't realize was that we had no credibility. We had nothing to lose and nowhere to go but up.

P.S. Seven years later. I married Bill Higgins. the guy who first told me about public relations. He's still impossible to understand, but, bov. is he smart.

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