You sell houses, get over yourself
Alright, let’s talk about real estate agents. No, not about their tireless work, their market knowledge or their uncanny ability to make a dusty open house smell faintly of lemon and desperation — or fresh cookies with nary a baked good in sight.
I want to talk about their faces. Specifically, their faces on everything.
I’m genuinely baffled. Every time I drive past a billboard, glance at a bus bench, or open my mailbox to yet another unsolicited postcard, there it is: the face. A professionally lit, often airbrushed, deeply earnest visage gazing out at the world as if daring you not to buy or sell a house right this very second.
Why, dear realtors, why the formal headshot? Do they gaze out at you with an intensity usually reserved for presidential portraits or the “Most Wanted” wall at the post office.
It’s always the same vibe: a serious, slightly Mona Lisa-esque smirk that suggests they know the secret to unlocking the universe’s best mortgage rates, but they’re not quite ready to tell you.
What’s with the standing-lean-arms-crossed stance? Is it meant to convey approachability? Power? The subtle discomfort of holding a pose for too long? I imagine a photographer whispering, “Yes, perfect! Now, try to look like you’re about to solve a complex mathematical equation while simultaneously judging my life choices.”
And this face isn’t just on billboards. Oh no. It’s on refrigerator magnets that barely hold up a business card. It’s on notepads I definitely didn’t ask for, subtly implying that the only things worth jotting down are property listings. I kid you not, I once received a postcard featuring a realtor’s face smiling brightly next to the words, “Thinking of selling? I’m thinking of you!” My response? “Please, don’t.”
It begs the question: is it their brand? Because if so, it’s a brand that makes the agent the product. When I’m looking to buy a house, I want to see photos of a beautiful kitchen, a sprawling backyard, or a miraculously renovated bathroom. I don’t need to see your piercing blue eyes staring back at me from every surface.
The house is the star, folks. The actual piece of real estate that will either plunge me into decades of debt or hopefully become my sanctuary. Not you, Denise, no matter how lovely your highlights are.
Is it ego, then? A quiet, pervasive need for name recognition that morphs into face recognition? Am I supposed to trust you more because you look good in a tailored blazer? My trust in a real estate professional hinges on their knowledge of the local market, their negotiation skills and their ability to not inadvertently sell me a money pit disguised as a charming fixer-upper. It doesn’t, and probably never will, depend on your ability to strike a compelling pose on a bus bench.
Ah, the bus bench. The realtor’s official throne. It’s a phenomenon I simply cannot wrap my head around. Is there a secret society of realtors who meet at dawn to practice their bus bench leans? Do they have special training? Is it an initiation rite?
“Welcome to the club, recruit! Now, go forth and pose dramatically on public seating!” It’s utterly perplexing. It’s like a doctor putting their face on every single prescription pad, or a chef’s stern gaze greeting you from the bottom of every takeout container. “Eat well, and remember my face!”
And let’s not even get started on the slogans. My personal favorite, which I see far too often, is the utterly groundbreaking, mind-blowing declaration: “I work hard for you.” Um, yes? I should hope so. That’s literally the bare minimum expectation of anyone providing a professional service. It’s like a pilot announcing, “I try my best not to crash the plane!” or a barista proclaiming, “I put coffee in your cup!”
It’s not creative, it’s not promising and it certainly doesn’t inspire confidence beyond the most basic understanding of gainful employment.
Where’s the pizzazz? The unique selling proposition? “I will find you a house with a secret passage!” or “My negotiating skills will make your enemies weep!” Now that would be memorable.
Look, I get it. Personal branding is important. In a competitive market, you want to stand out. But surely there are ways to achieve name recognition and professional trust that don’t involve a relentless assault of your personal likeness. A cool logo, a memorable jingle, a reputation built on successful transactions, a newsletter with actual market insights – these are all things that might actually make me remember you when it comes time to move.
But the pervasive headshot, the bus bench solemnity, the generic slogans, and the endless parade of branded junk mail… it just leaves me scratching my head.
The house is the star. The neighborhood is the setting. You, dear realtor, are the skilled director. So let’s dim the spotlight on your face just a little and allow the true protagonists – the properties themselves – to shine.
And please, no more notepads. My junk drawer is already full of your smiles.
