Who's Your Granny?

"All caps should be knitted by grandmothers."

Or, at least, that's the philosophy of Jérémy Emsellem, founder of Golden Hook, an online purveyor of knitted caps. And so, that's what Golden Hook does - sells caps knitted by real, honest-to-goodness grandmothers.

Jérémy started knitting and selling caps himself when he was a 23-year-old Parisian college student. During a visit to his great-aunt's nursing home, he asked some of his aunt's friends if they would be interested in crocheting hats as a way to occupy their time and earn a little cash. They agreed, and Golden Hook was born.

Golden Hook now employs more than twenty grandmothers (yes, they all have grandchildren - even the youngest, who is 48) to knit and crochet hats made from French wool, merino, mohair, angora, or Egyptian cotton. And these grannies are not just nameless, faceless octogenarians - the ladies post their names, faces and stories on the Golden Hook website, and as part of the ordering process, the customer may select which grandmother he would like to knit his cap. He can even send that granny a personal "thank you" message, or request that she sign her name on the cap's label.

The customer may also customize his cap, choosing between three styles, and selecting the color to be used on each knit row.

(Golden Hook also offers a selection of pre-made, non-customized hats, scarfs, bracelets, and other knit and crocheted accessories, but why be boring?)

What's the draw here? Why are customers interested in knowing who knitted their caps?

Perhaps it's the human element - we enjoy connecting, even in some small way, with other human beings. We like seeing faces and hearing stories. We appreciate reminders that a person is a person, not a number or a machine - perhaps because we, ourselves, prefer being seen by others as a person. We enjoy being known, and so we enjoy knowing.

And so we like it when our server at the restaurant wears a name tag and introduces herself as Jessica. We like it when the barista writes on our to-go coffee cup, "brewed by Bobby." And we like it when we can say that our wool cap was knitted by Michelle, the former hairdresser from Lyon who loves to tango.

When your customers interact with your organization, do they feel like they are interacting with people, or with machines? Even in the most automated industry, can you find ways to foster that human connection? To help your customer feel that she is a person, and that a person is serving her?