Leaving the Beaver...

As I was browsing this month's "The Real Deal" yesterday, an article caught my eye. "Musical Chairs for Condo Marketing Firms" notes that the development team behind the William Beaver House condo in lower Manhattan has changed marketing agents. That, in and of itself is not especially noteworthy; developers change brokers and marketers with some regularity,particularly in tightening markets. However, the fact that the project in question was the William Beaver did make the story newsworthy. "The Beave", so named for its location at William and Beaver Streets in Lower Manhattan, had one of the most ambitious and racy identity campaigns I've yet to see. (Okay, so I am usually holed up here in Philly, which, admittedly, is not known for risk-taking real estate marketing...) Andre Belazs, the brains behind the project, had pulled out all the stops for its marketing. The campaign's centerpiece is a fictional cartoon beaver who is also the project's namesake. William Beaver (or, as his French friends call him "Le Beaver") appears in various illustrations and videos on the project's website. The well-groomed (if somewhat hirsute) dam-builder also embodies many of the qualities that the young-bucks-of-Wall-Street target demographic for the project admire. He's fabulously successful, hardworking and, apparently, a Player. Sex appeal was skillfully used in the marketing of the project. Bathrooms, for instance, are advertised as being "big enough for three" and many of the original renderings for the project featured barely-dressed Manga babes. Behind all the identity work though, is a smartly conceived project, which seems tailor made to the lifestyle of the Financial District's up-and-comers. "Attache Kitchens" feature sliding door and counter elements that allow virtually all appliances -- sink, cooktop, etc -- to be concealed, creating extra temporary counter space in the process. A similar idea lies behind the "Murphy Offices" featured in many of the units. Small office spaces within the units are designed to be easily hidden from view by simply closing a pair of doors, allowing residents to entertain on the fly. Building amenities are likewise oriented to a younger, more active and aspirational crowd and feature a glass-enclosed Jacuzzi, a lap pool, basketball courts... the list goes on and on.

So why the change in sales agents for a project this well conceived? Surely, dear readers you don't actually expect to find the answer to that weighty question on a blog, do you? Scoring the real scoop on that one, after all, would require some primary research and, well, we all know that's not what bloggers are known for. Recent changes to the project's website however, do point to some sanitizing taking place in the formerly-racy illustrations that once appeared there. Gone are the barely-dressed babes and their undressed beaus. Most renderings now are simply absent those naughty revelers or their denizens are more discretely attired. (I'm not sure, but
John Ashcroft's bodice covering skills may have been put into service...) Whatever the reasons for the change in sales agents, it is clear that someone within the project's inner circle decided that the project's brand was too much "Animal House" and not enough "William Beaver House."