What mattered was the gesture. The time. The handwriting. The fact that someone read my review, got a kick out of it, and responded like a person, not a CRM. That moment left a mark.
The Secret Ingredient Behind Every Truly Loved Brand
A while back, I bought a coat from a company called DriDuck. Nothing flashy. Just a solid, well-made jacket that fit perfectly out of the box. I was so pleased—genuinely surprised at how good it was—that I wrote a review. A funny one. I don’t remember the exact lines, but I know I leaned into the absurdity of a brand called DriDuck and a coat that made me feel far more capable of surviving the elements than I actually am.
A week later, I got a package in the mail. Inside: a camouflage knit cap and a postcard. On the postcard, clearly handwritten, was this:
You ordered a jacket and left us in stitches! Paul, thanks so much for your purchase and your thoughtful and witty review. We are delighted you found the fit, warmth, and look you wanted. You are a valued part of our rugged community, and your satisfaction is important to us. Please wear your new Maverick in good health along with the enclosed Coleman beanie—our gift to you. Please reach out if we can help with anything further. Best regards, DriDuck Family.*
Now, I will never wear a camo beanie. And I don’t consider myself rugged in any measurable way. But none of that mattered.
What mattered was the gesture. The time. The handwriting. The fact that someone read my review, got a kick out of it, and responded like a person, not a CRM. That moment left a mark. I tell this story often. I show off the jacket. I will absolutely shop at Dri*Duck again—not because I need another coat, but because I remember how they made me feel.
That’s the secret ingredient. That’s what we’re chasing.
And the brands that understand it? They’re the ones that go from liked to loved.
The Real Reason People Fall for Brands
People don’t fall in love with brands because of features. Or speed. Or price. Or bullet points about “innovative technology.” They fall in love with brands that feel like them—that reflect who they are or who they want to be.
It’s not about product specs. It’s about identity.
We connect with brands that help tell our story. That give shape to our taste, our values, and our attitude. Maybe it’s the irreverence of Liquid Death. The outdoorsy grit of Patagonia. The clean minimalism of Apple. The weirdness of Cards Against Humanity. Whatever the flavor, these brands aren't just selling products—they’re handing you a flag to wave.
And waving that flag feels good.
It says, “I belong somewhere.”
It says, “Someone gets me.”
It says, “This is the version of me I want people to see.”
Sometimes, it's loud—like wearing a brand hoodie with a giant logo across the front. Sometimes, it's subtle—like using a water bottle from a company no one else knows about, but you love it because you discovered it. Either way, it’s personal.
This is what most marketers forget when they’re trying to sell: people don’t just want things. They want to feel things. They want products that work, yes—but they also want to feel clever, cool, strong, stylish, responsible, rebellious, healthy, funny, ethical, or just not totally adrift in a sea of sameness.
And when a brand helps unlock that feeling—even just once—it leaves a mark.
You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to go viral. You just have to connect in a way that matters. The brands people truly love? They don’t chase customers. They resonate. And resonance lasts a lot longer than a discount code.
What Most Brands Get Wrong
Most brands think they’re in the business of selling products. They’re not. They’re in the business of making people feel something. But instead of aiming for emotion, they aim for attention. Instead of designing experiences, they design campaigns. Instead of trying to matter, they try to interrupt.
And the result? A whole lot of marketing noise that leaves no trace.
They chase performance metrics. They optimize for clicks. They build loyalty programs with tiers and sparkle and dashboards and then wonder why no one’s excited. It’s because people don’t fall in love with dashboards. They fall in love with how you made them feel—once. And then they want to feel it again.
The brands that miss this are often the loudest. Constant pop-ups. Flashy promos. “Let’s circle back to delight the customer!” meetings that produce nothing but a slightly more colorful cart abandonment email.
There’s no soul in that. No story. No imprint.
Because connection doesn’t come from tactics, it comes from intention. It’s not about the discount—it’s about whether the brand means something when it shows up in your life. If it doesn’t, the transaction is the beginning and the end.
And here’s the real twist: most of the brands people actually love? They’re not shouting. They’re not pushing. They’re just being... themselves. Consistently. Confidently. Humanly.
That’s what most brands get wrong. They think loyalty is something you manufacture. But it’s not. It’s something you earn by mattering.
The Power of Emotional Imprint
Every truly loved brand leaves a mark. Not a logo. Not a clever tagline. A feeling.
You remember where you were when you opened it, how it looked when you unboxed it. The way it smelled. The unexpected thank-you note. The moment you realized, “Oh. These people get it.”
That’s emotional imprinting. And it’s the real currency of loyalty.
It’s not something you can fake. You can’t automate it. You can’t growth-hack your way into it. It happens when a brand creates an experience that’s so surprisingly human it crosses the line from “service” into “story.” You remember it. You tell people about it. You may even look forward to interacting with the brand again—just to feel that way again.
Think about the brands you genuinely love. Not the ones you default to. The ones that live rent-free in your head. Chances are, they made you feel something specific—comforted, delighted, respected, nostalgic, understood. Maybe they reminded you of yourself. Or the person you want to be.
That’s not a marketing win. That’s an emotional moment. And those moments don’t fade like banner ads do.
And the beauty of the emotional imprint? It doesn’t need to be dramatic. It doesn’t have to be some sweeping gesture or viral campaign. It can be small. Thoughtful. Quietly specific. Like a handwritten postcard from a coat company, you didn’t expect to hear from again. That’s all it takes.
Because when you leave a mark like that, you’re not just another brand. You’re their brand.
Signs You’ve Made an Emotional Imprint
So, how do you know if you’ve crossed the line from liked to loved? If you’ve moved out of the comparison chart and into the “I don’t even shop around anymore” category?
Here are a few telltale signs that your brand has made an emotional imprint:
They tell your story before you do
People recommend your product and explain your brand better than your website does. You’re not just a thing—they’ve internalized your narrative.
They talk about you like you’re a person
You get name-dropped in texts. “I swear by this brand.” “These guys just get me.” They refer to your company like you’re in the room with them.
They forgive you when you mess up
Shipping delay? Product glitch? Weird charge? Instead of a scorched-earth email, they assume it’s a fluke. Because you’ve built enough emotional credit to survive one or two overdrafts.
They don’t wait for sales
They don’t need incentives. They’re already sold. You could offer them 15% off, but they were buying anyway—and they’d still tell three friends about it.
They wear your brand
Literally or figuratively. Hats, stickers, tote bags, app icons on their home screen. You’ve become a visible part of their life—not because you paid for placement, but because they chose to display you.
They remember the little things you did
That time your customer support rep was kind. That surprise follow-up email. That oddly perfect packaging. That tiny detail they still talk about six months later. That’s the mark you left.
When a brand makes this kind of impact, customers become carriers of the message. They don’t need convincing. They don’t need to be “re-engaged.” They’re already in the room, waving the flag and bringing friends.
You didn’t buy their loyalty. You earned their affection.
And affection, weirdly, scales better than any campaign ever could.
How to Create That Connection
Here’s the hard truth: you can’t force emotional connection. But you can create the conditions for it. You can build the kind of brand that people want to love—not because you asked them to, but because you showed them why you’re worth it.
Here’s how:
Be consistent but not robotic
Consistency builds trust. But too much polish makes you sound like a corporate AI that’s read one too many brand guidelines. Speak like a human. Show up like a human. The more you sound like yourself, the more people believe in what you’re doing.
Let your voice breathe
Your brand voice should be something people recognize. It doesn’t need to be quirky or funny—just authentic. Whether it’s dry wit, quiet confidence, poetic minimalism, or absolute chaos, commit to it. Voice is one of the few things you own completely. Use it.
Don’t say, “we get you”—prove it
Knowing your audience means more than referencing the weather in their region. It means making real decisions based on who they are what they care about, and how they think. If you say you're “for creatives,” your UX better not feel like accounting software. If you're “sustainable,” don’t ship with enough bubble wrap to fill a swimming pool.
Celebrate your customers, not just your product
Make it about them. Show real people using what you make. Share their wins. Their weirdness. Their loyalty. When customers see themselves in your brand, they stop thinking of you as a vendor and start thinking of you as part of their life.
Create rituals, not just transactions
What do people expect from you? What do they look forward to? Maybe it’s your confirmation emails (because they’re weirdly delightful). Maybe it’s your unboxing experience. Maybe it’s that one product drop that feels like a community event. Rituals build emotional memory—and that memory is what people come back for.
Be generous in small, human ways
You don’t have to handwrite a note for every order. But the moments that surprise people—the email that doesn’t sell anything, the reply that actually answers the question, the tiny unexpected gift—those are the ones that become stories.
You don’t need a viral moment to create connection. You need a hundred thoughtful ones.
Because in the end, connection isn’t a strategy. It’s a practice. A posture. A way of showing up again and again like you mean it. When you build that kind of consistency—and layer it with a little personality, a little empathy, and a lot of respect—you don’t just sell things. You become something people choose.
That’s the secret.
Summing Up
Every brand wants to be loved. But most are too busy trying to be loud, clever, or optimized to notice they’re being forgotten.
The ones we remember? The ones we recommend? They’re the ones that made us feel something. That reflected who we are—or who we want to be. That didn’t try to impress us so much as include us. They weren’t perfect. But they were present. And real. And human.
That’s what turns customers into fans. Products into memories. Brands into stories.
In Part 4 of The Loyalty Problem, we looked at the MVPs—brands that actually earn loyalty by showing up consistently and building trust without gimmicks. The ones that don’t just chase attention—they create emotional relevance.
And now? It’s time to look ahead.
Because in Part 5, we’ll ask the big question: is brand loyalty still worth chasing? And if it is, what does it look like in a world where attention is scarce, options are infinite, and even our bagels are getting emotionally complicated?
Stick around. The future’s about to get real.
