• by David Goetzl  @dgoetzl, March 13, 2006

In the battle of big-box retailers specializing in big boxes--a.k.a. members-only warehouse clubs--Costco has successfully cultivated the image as the Cadillac. It's the place for paper towels by the crate and Pepcid by the tub, but also the grand piano, outdoor cinema system, or other indulgence likely to spring up on display.

By contrast, Sam's Club is known for the paper towels and the Pepcid--the choice of the more bargain-conscious, less refined shopper. Perception appears to be reality: Costco, the category leader, charges slightly more for membership, and its customers have a considerably higher median income.

Sam's, however, is no longer content to play outlet mall to Costco's upmarket aura. Over Christmas, it carried handbags from Prada, Kate Spade, and Fendi in stores, and borrowed a page from Neiman Marcus with a catalog offering a '69 Camaro for $198,000, plus a pricey tour of New Zealand vineyards and other quixotic luxe. Several months before, it offered a 3.74 carat pink diamond pendant for a Mother's Day gift (although it didn't stray too far from its discount roots, offering the $813,000 million bauble for $560,000).

While Sam's bread and butter will remain, well, bread and butter--albeit giant loaves and sticks by the dozen--the retailer hopes the lavish items will help it attract more upscale shoppers. The attempted makeover is part of a broader initiative by Sam's parent Wal-Mart to generate more enthusiasm for its merchandise and shopping experience (Wal-Mart is trying wood floors in parts of some stores) rather than simply its prices. Recent advertising for the Wal-Mart brand has reflected that goal through both the creative (promoting iPods and plasma screens) and placement (a spread in Vogue).

Sam's, for its part, has tried to advance its cause by linking with someone who reminds no one of bargain hunting: Donald Trump. The retailer struck a brand integration deal giving it a central role on the Feb. 27 premiere of the latest season of NBC's "The Apprentice" (evaluated and ranked via research firm iTVX as one of the five most effective product placements last week).

On the episode, the two teams compete to convince the most Sam's Club shoppers to upgrade to "plus" level memberships. Somewhat curiously, the teams could use the Goodyear blimp in their efforts. Shoppers were wooed by unimaginative tactics such as free tote bags and massages. The winning team, which sold 43 memberships, dined with Trump at New York's Wharton Club.

"The Apprentice," perhaps annoyingly to viewers, has become a canvas for marketers to fill with their logos and messages. And Sam's took full advantage of that. Throughout the episode, there were multiple close-ups of the Sam's logo, sweeping shots of store interiors, and contestants touting the chain. At one point, one of the competitors, Summer, a California restaurant owner, mused: "I'm a small business owner. Sam's Club is out there to help the small business." While competing, the team members also wore the same Polo shirts as Sam's employees--they even kept them on during the show's most popular segment, "The Boardroom," where power suits are the norm.

Although the task of selling Sam's memberships will never be confused with one of the great business challenges of our time--which makes the episode somewhat uninteresting--the brand integration aspect has to be considered a success. Sam's likely gained some traction in its aim to boost its upscale appeal.

Credit Sam's for sharp targeting. "The Apprentice" attracts one of television's most upscale audiences, finishing second last fall to "The West Wing" in a key category measuring amount of viewers with incomes of $100,000 or more. Second, the show is all about showcasing how "the overclass"--"Newsweek's" term for BlackBerry-toting, jet-setting dealmakers--lives. It probably helped Sam's to have teams of Armani-clad hotshots with degrees from Harvard and Columbia converge on its stores, shed the designer duds, and get down to work.

Also, Trump himself delivers for the brand. The episode begins with the Pied Piper of Capitalism standing in front of his private plane--the ultimate status symbol for the rich--praising Sam's Club. He informs the immaculately dressed, impractically handsome 18 would-be employees of The Trump Organization that Sam's is "the nation's top warehouse store for small businesses, providing everything from furniture to automotive tires to utilities to lots of different things."

Despite his kind words, odds are that Trump has never been to Sam's. But he does have a new baby due this month. Would he venture from Manhattan to the 'burbs for the portable baby changer ($38.88 and perfect to take on the Gulfstream) and Huggies in bulk? Unlikely. But Sam's hopes more and more Trump wannabes stop by.