Look out Scott Thomason
and Tom Peterson (and Gloria, too). After just two years in
the Portland market, Seattle's Sunny Kobe Cook is becoming
as ubiquitous as the other local TV-ad
icons. With an empire of 28 Sleep Country USA stores that
reaches from Bellingham to Salem (and a theme song that sticks
in your head for days), Sunny is the undisputed Queen of the
Mattress, so why do an interview with anyone else?
Willamette Week: First of all, what kind of accent
do I detect?
I come from Kansas City originally. I moved to the Northwest
in 1990 and started my company in 1991. Before that I had
a long career in corporate America, starting out as a secretary
and then moving into sales and, eventually, sales management.
And then one day you just said, "I'll start up a mattress
company?"
I wish I could say, "Gee, I always wanted to grow up to
be the mattress queen," but it just never came up. It evolved.
I think that's true of most people who go into business
for themselves.
What did you want to be when you were growing up?
A writer and a photographer, and now I actually do both.
Back in those days I would have wanted to write poetry or
fiction, but the book I'm working on now is more of a business-philosophy
book.
What's your idea of a night out with the girls?
It's funny you ask that because a few years back Montel
Williams did a show up in Seattle about working women, and
there was a group of us invited to be on it. We all sat
there rolling our eyes because it was a little too Montel
for us, but when we got out of there, we realized we were
all very like-minded. So we said, "Why don't we get together
and have dinner?" Now, about every six weeks, we go to some
fabulous restaurant, camp out for hours, order outrageous
food and wine and talk nonstop. We call ourselves the Montel
Girls.
What's the most uncomfortable place you've ever slept?
Probably a European hotel somewhere. We Americans, we definitely
understand showers, and we understand beds. Europeans have
got the food, wine, art and music down, but they just don't
get the showers and the beds.
How often do you get recognized?
I always say I have to go out of town to be wicked. And
I do. But I've been recognized in the Roman Forum, the Splendido
Hotel in Portofino, on a dive boat in Australia--you name
it. It's amazing. And now that people have satellite dishes,
I'm getting recognized in places like North Carolina. I'm
always stunned at how quickly people recognize me, even
if I'm out rollerblading in a ball cap or something.
What do strangers usually say to you?
Because of the ads we do for women's shelters and other
charities, one of the No. 1 things people say to me is "I
really appreciate what you're doing for the community"--either
that or "I hate your ads." Kids like to sing the theme song
for me, and they always put the "ding!" at the end.
Who's the guy who's always talking to you in the ads?
His name is Merrill Mael, and he's an old-time radio star
from back in the days of The Shadow. He's an old
retired guy who doesn't do anything except my stuff, and
he's just truly one of the most talented, fabulous people
you'll ever meet.
What kind of car do you drive?
I'm not a big car person--I drive an Acura. That's the
No. 1 thing that high-school kids ask when I meet them:
"How much money do you make, and what kind of car do you
drive?" And when I say it's an Acura, they go, "oohhhhh
noooo."
Does your own theme song ever get stuck in your head
and you can't
get it out?
No, I don't have that problem. I don't hear it that much.
But you know, share of mind equals share of market. So if
it's getting stuck in your head, it's working.
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Willamette Week | originally
published July 21, 1999
|
