Monday, Dec. 19, 1983

Making a Date with Status

By Stephen Koepp

Swanky desk diaries show more than just what day it is

Remember the humble office calendar? It was just a ho-hum piece of desk equipment, a chintzy plastic tray with 365 nondescript pages on it. But now it is being replaced by the posh and prestigious desk diary. Bound in padded leather with the owner's name or initials stamped in gold on the cover and decorated with silken page markers, the best-bred datebooks look a bit like church hymnals, and they command nearly the same reverence.

Publishers have found that executives are willing to pay a fancy price for sleek and functional models. Some diaries are like almanacs, thumb-indexed to bring elusive and obscure statistics within quick reach. Others serve as miniature filing cabinets to gather up all those scraps of paper that litter a desktop. A few make esoteric fashion statements. Saks Fifth Avenue sells an Italian-made calendar covered in burgundy-colored crocodile hide. Price: $1,775.

The epitome of high-toned datebooks and among the bestsellers is the Economist Diary, offered by the London financial magazine. First published in 1948, the handmade leather volume supplies its owner with facts ranging from the average hours of sunshine a day in Edinburgh (3.75) to the hog and pig population of the U.S. (59 million in 1982). The $43 book has become a prestige item round the globe. Says Christopher Curwen, the Economist's U.S. publications manager: "In the offices of top government ministers in Latin America, you'll see some 25 of these red desk diaries in a row. It's a statement of success." President Kennedy used to have two: one for the White House and one in his briefcase. Two weeks ago Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger's office called the Economist to ask about getting its 1984 book. The magazine sells about 250,000 diaries annually, and this year began printing them in the U.S. in addition to London.

Such rival publications as BusinessWeek and London's Financial Times are publishing their own versions, both to boost their visibility and to log sizable profits. BusinessWeek fills its Executive Desk Planner with features like a collection of management tips. FORTUNE, whose diary includes a calorie counter, a listing of the largest U.S. industrial corporations and silver-edged pages, mails a free copy of the book to the chief executive of each company on the FORTUNE 500 list.

The calendar business has become so attractive that up-scale consumers are besieged with choices. American Express has its own handsome 232-page appointment book that it claims is "designed exclusively to meet the demands of busy cardmembers." The company sends a free copy of the $19.95 book to customers the first year, but charges after that. For 1984,

American Express has introduced a women's calendar, which lists events and quotations of particular interest to females. Price: $12.95.

While politicians and diplomats seem to prefer the Economist's diary, a popular datebook in the movie industry is LeBook Los Angeles, which for $28.50 offers 116 pages of local services ranging from art galleries to auto rentals. Its publisher, Citrus House, also sells a national LeBook containing the basic rundown on 36 of the most visited cities in the U.S. This year LeBook contains a guide to the Olympic Games.

When calendars go even further, they become systems. The Time/Design planner, for example, attempts to sort all the scattered details of an executive's life into neat compartments. The book contains more than two dozen forms for listing activities, to which the user assigns priorities by marking items with special symbols. A Santa Monica, Calif., firm called Insight Transformational Seminars sells the book for $300. The price includes a three-day seminar on how to use it. For $120, customers get a 30-page instruction book instead of the seminar.

People prone to forget their spouse's birthday can stay out of trouble with the $19.95 Laser Days datebook, which is custom-designed to remind them of as many as 20 important occasions. Marketed by Cleveland's Initial Concepts, the computer-printed calendar displays the customer's name on each page and gives a one-month advance notice of upcoming events.

The demand for specialized calendars of all types has been a boon to both bookstores and publishers. An estimated 600 titles are available this year, up from just 120 or so five years ago. Says Jon Beckmann, publisher of Sierra Club Books: "In the 1960s people never bought calendars." Nowadays they may buy several. The California-based Sierra Club was a pioneer in marketing richly illustrated calendars as wall and desk adornments. The organization expects to sell about 400,000 copies of its 1984 engagement book, which has pictures of natural vistas. Price: $7.95. Seeing the promotional value and fund-raising possibilities, other institutions, including the Smithsonian and the New York Public Library, have weighed in with artful books.

As a result, calendar displays are taking over ever larger sections of bookstores. One hot seller is the A-Hunk-a-Day Desk Calendar, which bears the subtitle Aren't You Glad It's Leap Year? The Buzzword-a-Day calendar, written by the authors of The Official MBA Handbook, gets the year off to a ruthless start by defining deadwood as "Anyone in your company who is more senior than you are." The Computer Desk Diary marks high-tech anniversaries like the date of Apple Computer's founding (Jan. 3). Jane Fonda's Year of Fitness and Health datebook provides recipes and exercise tips that focus on a different part of the body each month (October is thin-thighs month). Some 235,000 copies have been shipped to stores.

Meanwhile, Universe Books has come up with something that may appeal to people who find all the slick new calendars a bit too much. It offers a generic model titled No Frills '84. The calendar simply provides the date and sells for $2.50. --By Stephen Koepp.

Reported by Meg Grant/Los Angeles and Amamath Singh/New York

With reporting by Meg Grant/Los Angeles, Amamath Singh/New York This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.