I derive much professional pleasure from watching AMC’s Mad Men.

If you don’t watch the show (and OMG you should, it’s brilliant), Mad Men is about the people who work at a fictitious Madison Avenue ad agency in the 1960′s.  Having worked in the ’80′s version of this male-dominated creative environment I totally relate to crap women had to endure; and like Peggy Olsen, I rose from the secretarial pool with fiery ambition.

A recent episode once again struck home for me how smart Mad Men is when it touches on branding. At a meeting with Jaguar, the client suggested the agency take out local radio spots to drive foot traffic to the dealerships, a request that made our “hero” Don cringe. The client thought the idea brilliant, but Don knew better.

Rather than tell the guy that local radio would cheapen Jaguar’s elite, brand image, Don said Sure! The ads can talk about how everyone can buy a Jaguar for their driveway. How affordable they are. How all your neighbors are buying one and so should you.

Would local radio have sold more Jags? Yes, it would. But selling morel Jags in the short term would damage Jag’s brand image in the long term. People buy luxury cars in part because they can and their neighbors can’t. They certainly didn’t buy the 1960′s Jaguar for its dependability, as the show proved last season when the car failed during one character’s attempt to commit suicide by asphyxiation.

Here’s another example that’s closer to home. A client of mine owns an upscale men’s clothing store specializing in custom suits. We’re talking $6000 suits. When he and I first spoke, he ran down his calendar of annual sales events. Whoa! I asked why he would sell his custom suits at a discount so frequently, when the men who buy them enjoy knowing that they can afford to pay $6000 for these exquisite garments.  Rather than compete with the low-end Joseph A. Bank down the street, I recommended he hold just a few sales events each year. The result: overall sales climbed, and his brand image grew stronger.

The lesson is this: every last scrap of marketing you do must remain faithful to your brand promise and brand image. With each new campaign, social media post or sales presentation you have to gauge whether you’re helping or hurting; or just plain confusing your audience.

Brands, like Don Draper’s Canadian Club, are meant to be consumed straight, not diluted.

I got an email today from a guy named Bill who says he’s helping Byron Guilfoyle (not his real name) to develop his network. The goal (according to Bill) is to ” help connect more people together, and to be able to better keep his connections in mind for his clients, events, and others that he meets.”

Bill went on to ask for information about me: my ideal client, a good center of influence, where I network, etc. The message closed with a request for 15 minutes of my time for a discussion about how we can work together.

I take issue with this approach.

You see, I don’t know Byron Guilfoyle. I looked him up in my LinkedIn Connections and remembered that he asked to connect with me last week and I accepted without knowing him. (I usually don’t accept if I don’t know the person but there ya go…)

I don’t know Byron and Byron doesn’t know me. Yet Byron wants to network with me. Or rather, Byron wants Bill to network with me on Byron’s behalf. That’s like having your friend tell the hot girl that you like her, and then taking her to dinner and bringing you home the doggie bag. Does Byron think that I will recommend him to my clients because he paid Bill to talk to me and mine me for contacts?

I feel preyed upon. If I respond and speak with Bill, I know I’ll feel used. Don’t use me Bill.

Networking, business relationship-building should be personal. Don’t send your lackey to get to know me under the pretense that you want to help me. It’s implausible tacky.

Sorry Byron. It’s not you, it’s me.

Dear Next Day Blinds,

I made a rather large purchase in December. There was a small snafu with the order (will get to that later) but all in all I’m very happy with my honeycomb shades.

Now about that survey you mailed me…

It’s three pages long. It has five sections. It’s got small type.

There’s zero incentive for me to fill in the blanks, stuff it back in the envelope, walk out to my mailbox (it’s January…brrrr!) and lift up the little flag.

(Did I mention that I made a rather large purchase?)

I didn’t see an online option to complete your survey. You know, for people like me who can’t remember how to hold a pen or simply find the web a preferable way to offer our opinions.

No one ever called me after installation to “see if everything was OK” with my rather large purchase. Everything wasn’t. You folks delivered and installed an item that I had cancelled. I told the nice guy who did the installation and he said to settle up with you. But you haven’t returned my calls.

My suggestions:

Since you have my email address, next time why not send me an online survey. Make it short, or wave a Starbucks card in front of me and I’ll complete all five sections and write in some free-form comments. Send it to me within 24 hours of my installation instead of 3 weeks later by snail mail.

If not, revamp the three pages and cut it in half. Make the survey attractive so my eyes don”t wander off the page and over to the circular file (aka Mr. Trash Can).

One more thing: Call me. Ask me how you did. I’ll tell you.