Discount cards might be about saving money, but for the wealthy they're also about being a member of an elite club, writes, P.Ramakrishnan.
It's an everyday scene in Hong Kong's high-end boutiques full of high-end shoppers, Mrs Tai Tai, soaked in designer perfume, steps into a luxury store and picks up a logo-embossed bag without looking twice at the multiple-digit price tag.
At the counter she opens this seasons's wallet and her manicured index finger searches among a fan of plastic cards for the gilt-edged discount card. She pours them out and asks the ever-smiling girl at the counter to pick the card that will shave the most off the price. The $6,500 she just saved for her troubles means designer gloves to go with that swish satchel.
"Everyone loves a discount, especially the minted rich," says Elaine Young, chief executive of Shama boutique serviced apartments. "Just the simple thrill of saving $500, even if you've just spent $50,000. It's the upper echelons in particular who get an even bigger kick out of it.
"It is very Hong Kong, or perhaps an Asian trend where you go right up and ask for a discount. This would never happen in Italy or Paris where the super rich wouldn't dream of asking for a better price. But trying to save some money, even when you're at Cartier, is the done thing here."
The spendthrift lifestyle of the ladies-who-lunch isn't without its obvious perkss: the best hotels, designer brands, luxury stores, clubs and spas go out of their way to make guests and big spenders feel more privileged thaan the great unwashed.
Olivia Davies, columnist for Talkies magazine and one of Hong Kong's most recognisable socialites, says she has so many luxury discount cards that she needs another purse to carry them. "Lane Crawford, Kova, Dior, Gucci... I don't know how many I have. My husband also has some for hotels so if we're out, we're only paying for one lunch instead of two, depending on the hotel. Some of the discounts may not be much, but it all adds up nicely."
These cards were conceived during the economic boom of the late 1980s and early 90s. It was the prestige factor, not the monetary benefits, that made them popular. Which also explains why, although we're in an economic downturn - and despite Sars-related sales at many fashion outlets - there hasn't been a surge in customers using their money-saving cards.
It was a clever marketing gimmick that took on a life of its own. Most hotels and up-market designer stores introduced them in the early 90s-around the time Asia Miles and other airline points-based reward schemes began.
In a similar vein, even the more affordable department stores such as China Products, U2, Mango and even supermarkets such as CitySuper and Kalms gift card shops started rewarding regular customers.
I expect to see Davies with a multi-pocketed, voluminous wallet to house all these glittering cards, but she exclaims,"Of course I don't carry them around with me all the time. They recognise me at my favourite stores and I know I'm on the list."
Some of the biggest labels, such as Chanel, Fendi and Prada, don't have tangible discount cards. But there is an A-list database available to sales people that gives the privileged "special prices."
So who's on that list? None of the major brands approached revealed the names - or even the number of names that are carefully logged on their screens. The list does not guarantee fiduciary benefits, but offers ego massages such as first dibs on the season's latest accessories or home-delivered, laminated catalogues of the new season line.
A discreet spokesman from Fendi assures us they don't have a privilege card, but invitations to high-profile launches and champagne lunches are available to "friends of Fendi."
Young knows only too well about the list and how alluring a discount card can be. Her shama apartments (in Central, Wan Chai and Causeway Bay), are luxuriously furnished and the residency comes with a no-additional-cost gravy boat. As they settle in, tenants at shama receive a card called "shama no boundaries."
The card comes with an inch-thick, palm-sized folder with a guide to the best restaurants, hair-dressers, clubs and florists - all with a raft of discounts. The card also gives automatic membership to some of the hippest places in town. About 80 participating business in Hong Kong are linked to the card, for the 100-odd shama residents. When residents leave shama, they have to leave their card and its multitudinous perks behind.
"Our lists change with fads and so do our constantly growing benefits. It may be a free bottle of wine at some place or a table at a popular restaurant secured on a busy night," says Young. "We've just added access to the popular hot-spots such as Backroom and Dragon-i to our list of benefits. We've dropped a few non-happening places too, but it wouldn't be fair to mention those."
The network is big and getting bigger, but when asked if there were any other privilege cards to compete with shama, without hesitation Young says: "We don't have the global network of the American Express Centurion card. That's a card I can swear by. I was going on a trip to Europe where I wanted to see a paricular opera on its opening night - impossible right? But Centurion made it happen, right down to the limo ride."
But forget green, gold or platinum, the elusive black American Express card can only be obtained by invitation. Looking at credit history, spending habits and the longevity of a customer's relationship with American Express, the Centurion may well be the mother of all privilege cards. In addition to travel and entertainment benefits, within the confines of law and logic, Centurion takes its role in providing the near-impossible to their well-heeled customers, very seriously.
"We had a customer who forgot to pack his alarm clock while travelling around the world. Our offices did wake-up calls for him at every destination," says Zow Lau Yuet-ting, head of payment and financial services at American Express bank. "But that wasn't our strangest request. A customer wanted Chinese lion-dancing to be done at the opening of a shop in Sicilly. We found a kung fu master in Rome, trained him in the dance and he performed in this little village. The cost of hiring the person and getting him there was incurred by the customer but for our service, there was no charge. It's part and parcel of the deal when you sign up for the card."
Unlike other vards - which are offered to customers purely based on their spending habits - these cards have an annual fee ranging from $400 for the basic Green American Express card to $9,800 for the Centurion. The Centurion also comes with supplementary cards for business and private use, spouses and other relatives.
Tickets to the Oscars, getting your favourite chef across the planet to cook something for your companion when you're on holiday in Barbados - the list of "can-dos" by Centurion is mind-boggling.
The final word goes to Nisha Parmanand, Hari Harilela's grand-daughter who has been offered almost every card created. "No one really wants to be the common man on the street," she says. "To be the chosen one, to be singled out as someone of value... well who wouldn't want that? The card gives you a superficial reassurance, but it's still something."
Pulling out a card that gives her access to the Kee Club and a little red number that gives her 20 per cent off drinks at Post 97, she say, "Well, I was approached to join and I did. After the initial excitement of getting the card, well, as with everything else, it wears off."
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