'The Clothes Store Book Tour' by Wyl Menmuir
I’m a fan of a Finisterre jacket. And their jumpers. And jeans. And shirts. In short, I’m one of their target markets and they know it. While I’m ruthless about unsubscribing from most emarketing, when Finisterre’s emails land in my inbox, I’m a bit helpless faced with the rugged, post-surf knitwear on offer, and I’m a sucker for the stories of those who find adventure on and by the sea in their weekly Sunday Broadcast. It fits with the image I have of myself, though I may have 20 odd years on most of the models.
It runs deeper than that though. Finisterre is the most local of clothing brands to me, operating out of St Agnes, just a few miles from where I live. It was set up by surfer, Tom Kay, who wanted to develop clothes for people who love the sea, in particular the cold Atlantic waters off Cornwall’s north coast. And, as a registered B-Corp, they do things properly, prioritising the environment and society in their business decisions. They use natural Yulex rubber, rather than ecologically damaging neoprene, in their wetsuits, for example, and are heavily involved in ocean conservation projects.
So, when I was looking at partners for talking about my new book The Draw of The Sea, Finisterre came to mind immediately. Excuse the clothes-based pun, but it felt like a good fit. The Draw of The Sea explores the lives of those who venture into the waters around the coasts of Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly. Tick one. I wanted it to be read by anyone who feels that pull of the ocean, anyone who gravitates towards the sea for play, adventure, challenge, or solace. Tick two. And I wanted to it to resonate with anyone who feels the need to do something to protect an environment they love. Three out of three.
When, after a bit of diary wrangling, I met Lawrence Stafford, the brand’s community manager, he clearly felt something of the same, having read the book I’d sent him a couple of weeks earlier. He said they would be open to stocking the book in their stores and he suggested a tour of events in three of their stores in Brighton, London and Bristol.
I said yes immediately, though it was a punt on both our parts. I hadn’t considered doing a book tour in clothes shops before. Most book events I’m involved in take place in libraries and bookshops, or at literary festivals, so who knew if anyone would come to one in a clothes store, midweek at the end of September? Not that that’s necessarily a reason not to do it - I don’t know a published author who hasn’t played to a room consisting of a friend who couldn’t say no to the invitation and a couple of co-opted bookshop staff members to make up numbers at some point, and that’s in venues where people who actively love books hang out – but it’s a long round trip to play to empty venues. The same was true from their side in terms of risk – they had to keep the shops open late, keep the staff team on for the evening, reconfigure a clothes shop into an events space, organise and market the event, and bring in a partner for refreshments (in this case, the excellent Cornish non alcoholic ‘gin’ brand, Pentire).
When, at just five minutes before the first event in Brighton, there were just two people in the shop aside from me and the staff, I wondered if we’d made a mistake (or as a PR might spin it, created an opportunity for an exclusive, intimate author chat). Another ten minutes though and the room was packed. The same happened in London and again in Bristol. A full house - standing room only in London - books sold out, loads of questions from the floor, and a crowd who wanted to stay on afterwards to keep the conversation going. It was everything an author wants in an event.
I asked a few people who attended how they’d come to be there. Some were loyal customers of Finisterre, the sort of people who shop there regularly and who might attend their film screenings or ocean conservation talks. Others were engaged in ocean conservation and were on the lookout for new ideas and inspiration or, perhaps, likeminded souls. And others still were fans of the book, who came because they had either already read it or knew they wanted to. Many were a combination of all three.
Walking away from the final event, checking messages on the socials on my phone from people sharing their photos and experiences of the events, I wondered if the success of the events might be in something marketers might call resonance, the values of two brands aligning around a shared interest, in this case the love of the sea. Whatever it was, it worked. It was slightly tricky, checking the messages on my phone with one hand, as the other was occupied carrying the bag that contained a new pair of shoes – a collaboration between Finisterre and the minimalist footware brand, Vibobarefoot – that I hadn’t been able to resist as I passed the checkout as I left.
Words by Wyl Menmuir