Surviving a New Car Purchase

I recently embarked on a journey that I’ve been dreading for easily the last five years: purchasing a new car. I don’t think anyone enjoys the car purchasing experience – it’s what horror stories for cocktail parties are made of. I would like to claim the whole reason I drove my Honda CR-V for 17 years was solely because I dreaded the thought of engaging with the stereotypical car salesman, but that was really only half the reason. The other half was simply because I enjoyed no car payments for over a decade.

But alas, the final factor triggering my new car purchase had approached: My daughter turned 17 in March, and my Honda was to become hers. The very car I bought when she was born – that necessitated the sale of my two-seater sports car in exchange for a car with a backseat in which I could safely place a car seat – was about to be turned over to the now-adult version of this same child. As sobering as this situation was, it dawned on me that it was finally time to buy a car for me.

Having driven an SUV for the last 17 years, and having enjoyed the versatility of it, that grouping was my starting point. Ever-consistent about judging a book by its cover, I was seduced by the design of the Range Rover Evoque. So I set off for the Land Rover dealership, which was quite beautiful and somewhat intimidating. Having done minimal research on the vehicle, and with little to no experience with the brand other than name recognition, I went in pursuit of my initial test drive. Oh, I was so naïve.

The vehicle was as adorable in the showroom as I had seen on the road, and the interior was very comfy … until I hit my head exiting the car because I had the seat jacked up so high so I could see the road over the vehicle’s hood. Not wanting that as my daily routine, I started to reconsider what I had heretofore considered to be my future vehicle. As I relayed my sentiments to the men in my life, they all leapt to support my decision to move on for various reasons. Needless to say, I was rather deflated by the exercise and overwhelmed by the prospect of choice.

Realizing there was no easy answer on this, I decided I needed to take a more scientific approach. It was time to get serious. My boyfriend swears by Consumer Report recommendations, so their list of top-rated 2016 SUVs became my guide post for Internet research on the brands and the models. Then the moment of truth finally arrived: It was time to actually go to the dealerships and take the finalists for a spin.

I felt like Goldilocks, as the cars reminded me of the fabled three bears: One was too small; one was too big; and one was sort of, kind of, almost just right. I had rationalized the smart choice and determined which car to purchase. Now, this was back in early February, and I found myself delaying the purchase, utilizing the excuse that my daughter wasn’t getting her license until mid-March, so why hurry?

And then it occurred to me: Shouldn’t I be excited about this? I had waited 17 years to buy a new car, and I wasn’t excited about the prospect. I realized there was something seriously wrong with this situation. I mean, really, if you’re about to spend $40,000 (more or less) on something, you should be really excited about it, shouldn’t you? Well, I wasn’t.

So one day during my hiatus between the declared “final decision” and the intended actual purchase, I was surfing the Internet; eventually, I wandered onto the Jeep website. I had always wanted a Jeep. I remember when I graduated from college and was making a whopping $18,000 a year at my first job, it was the car I desperately wanted but could not afford. Later in life, it wasn’t practical for a baby seat and baby gear. But now, with the aforementioned 17-year-old daughter only a year away from departing for college, and me, with no baby gear in sight, and with relative financial security, I could unburden myself of the requirements of practicality. I wanted a Jeep.

As I perused the website, I discovered that 2016 is the 75th anniversary of Willy’s Wrangler. And, as it so happens, I’m turning 50 this year. The dual milestones presented a symmetry I found irresistibly compelling, and the deal was sealed without ever seeing the actual car. I went to the nearby Jeep dealership that weekend, test drove a 2015 Rubicon Wrangler and sat down with a salesman to custom order my 75th Anniversary Edition Sahara Wrangler. In Granite Ice, my Jeep, made expressly for me (and I have the window sticker that says so to prove it) arrived six weeks later. It was the only Anniversary Edition Jeep Wrangler on the lot and it waited patiently for me to come pick it up. It only had seven miles on it.

I’ve had the Jeep for almost two weeks now. It’s definitely taken some adjustment (recall the impracticality factor), but I’m loving it. And I have a whole new cadre of friends: I regularly attract random waves and peace signs from other Wrangler owners as we pass each other on the road. That didn’t happen with my Honda. Life is good.

So why am I sharing this story? I guess for a couple of reasons:

1. Never underestimate the power that emotions play in the decision making process just because the data may be in your favor.  My Jeep purchase was purely an emotional purchase.

2. Customers know what they want before they ever get to you. But that doesn’t necessarily mean the product will sell itself. The engagement level of the salespeople at the dealerships for the top-three rated brands was inversely proportional to their ranking. So the salesperson at the top-rated brand did me a favor by talking to me, and the salesperson at the lower-ranked brand sent three emails and called twice. Sales staff need to be brand ambassadors, and while on one side of the coin, they should not expect the brand itself to do all the work, they also shouldn’t go off brand and annoy the customer.

3. The environment really needs to be conducive to the transaction. The thing I found most annoying about the actual purchase of my car was the environment in which it took place. Minimal privacy, much waiting and the feeling that everyone in the dealership knew the exact details of our conversation. The dealership is ideally located and well-inventoried, so obviously they feel they don’t need to work very hard on the dealership environment to get the sales. Did it deter me? Yes and no. They were my second choice of dealership, but they responded to my request for information first. The other dealership got back to me a week later. The story may have been different had that not been the case.

4. If you have a heritage, share it! It provides depth and authenticity to a brand’s image and may present the opportunity to create synergies with an unexpected customer base.

5. Follow up with your customers. After my purchase, I was invited to take a survey about my experience. Following that, I received app links for both Sirius Radio to maximize my subscription, and to Jeep, so I can engage in the community. I was exploring the latter app while on the train this morning, and the conductor stopped after checking my ticket to check out the app with me – he’s thinking of getting a Jeep. I’ll leave you with that.

Kathleen Jordan, AIA, CID, LEED AP, is a principal in Gensler’s New York office, and a leader of its retail practice with over 24 years of experience across the United States and internationally. Jordan has led a broad range of retail design projects as both an outside consultant and as an in-house designer. She has led projects from merchandising and design development all the way through construction documentation and administration, and many of her projects have earned national and international design awards. Contact her at kathleen_jordan@gensler.com.