Talk About the Experience, Not the Package

Imagine an event planner named Tamsin Hale who meets Mrs. Ambrose at her house in May. In September, Mrs. Ambrose and her husband will have been married for 40 years. She wants a dinner for 60 in a tent on the lawn. While they walk the garden, she mentions the party for their 25th. She spent most of that night in the kitchen sorting out the caterer, and she missed her son’s toast.

Back at the kitchen table, Mrs. Ambrose asks, “So what would you do for us?” Tamsin has another meeting at four, and she gives the answer she gives most clients. “I handle the vendors and the contracts, and I build the timeline. On the day, I’m there from noon with two assistants. Full planning is $14,000.”

Mrs. Ambrose writes it down. On Monday, she met a planner who gave her nearly the same list for $11,000. She books that planner the following week.

Suppose instead that Tamsin answers with the evening. “At your 25th, you were in the kitchen during the toasts. This time, when your son stands up to speak, you’re at your table, and you hear every word. If the caterer has a question, it comes to me.” Then she gives the same list in two sentences, and the fee. “We’d start with the tent company in June, because September books up early.”

Mrs. Ambrose says, “That’s what I want.” She books Tamsin that afternoon.

Tamsin offered the same work at the same price both times. What changed was what Mrs. Ambrose heard first. In the first version, she heard a list, and a list can be laid beside another planner’s list. In the second, she heard her own evening, built from the story she told in the garden. No other planner could have told her that.

A wealthy client pays for more than what you hand over. In a written proposal, you describe one moment of the finished job as it happens. In a conversation, the client asks out loud what they would get, and you answer on the spot. Here is why the client wants to hear the experience, and how to tell it in your own words.

A travel adviser describes the first morning instead of the room category

Addie Cole is a travel adviser with Cozy Travel. In August 2026, TravelPulse asked advisers who plan expensive trips how they talk to clients about spending more. Cole’s advice was about the words. “Describe; do not categorize,” she said. “A room category means nothing to a client, but their first morning, jet-lagged and awake at 6 a.m., having coffee on their own terrace instead of in a lobby, means everything.”

A room category is what the hotel sells. It is a name on a price list, and the client cannot picture it. The morning is what the client will live through. Cole knows the client will be awake at six with jet lag. That is how the first morning of a long trip goes. So she starts there, with a moment the client can see themselves in.

Every trade has its room category. For a planner, it is “full planning.” For a trainer, it is “a 12-session package.” The client cannot step into either one. They can step into a morning, an evening, or a Saturday.

An adviser who sells Italy tells clients how her own stay felt

Barbara Khan, of Journeys By the Book, is another adviser quoted in the same article. “I sell a lot of Italy, and I will mention hotels I’ve stayed at and describe how I was made to feel during my stay,” she said. She talks about “the rooftop bar and sunset I enjoyed seeing over cocktails.” She also talks about “the very personalized service I received when I was dining alone.”

When a room costs more, she talks about the view from her own room. She also says how close the hotel is to the sights her clients want to see. “This little bit of storytelling leads them to want to have that same experience,” she said, “and then they are willing to loosen the purse strings a bit.”

Khan’s stories happened to her, so she tells them the way anyone tells a friend about a trip. She tells them in the past tense, with the sunset in it. Every professional has stories like hers from their own work. A florist has the June morning she rebuilt an arch in the rain. A story from your own work also keeps other clients’ homes and families out of the conversation.

A portrait photographer shows clients the one photo left from her childhood

Sarah Petty is a portrait photographer who founded the Photography Business Institute, which teaches photographers. In a 2020 episode of its podcast, she describes a change she made in her first few years. Back then, she charged around $75 for 35 printed proofs. “Clients were coming to me for photos, but they were leaving with nothing,” she says.

Her reason for changing goes back to her own childhood. Her parents were not interested in photography. “I just have one photo of me from my childhood, and my whole body is cut off,” she says. She shows that photo to her clients. “When my clients come into my studio, I show them the one tiny photo I was left with from my childhood, and explain why I’m so passionate about creating artwork that lasts forever.”

She moved from proofs to finished portraits for her clients’ walls. Often, she says, clients “don’t know what else to ask for,” because nobody has shown them. She remembers her “first right client,” who came in wanting everything and spent $1,800.

The files and the prints are what Petty hands over. The tiny photo with her body cut off shows what a family is left with when nobody makes the portraits. A parent who sees it might think of their own children growing up with nothing on the wall.

Why telling the same story to every client goes wrong

Imagine an interior designer named Philippa Crane who has a story she tells at first meetings. It is about the first winter evening in a finished living room. The fire is lit, and the children are doing homework at the long table. The parents are on the sofa with the dog. Families nod along to it, and it has won her a lot of work.

She meets Mr. Duvall about the living room of his new apartment. Early on, he says that he lives alone. He owns 2,000 records, and on Fridays four friends come over to listen to them. Philippa is between two site visits. When he asks what she would do, she tells her winter-evening story.

Mr. Duvall says, “I don’t have kids.” He thanks her, and he hires a designer who asked where the records would go.

Philippa’s story was a good one, and it described an experience, not a list. Her mistake was telling the story she always tells. Mr. Duvall had already given her his evening, and she did not use it. The version that works starts from his words. “On Friday, your friends are in the four chairs, and the records are on the wall beside them. Nobody has to get up to find the next one.”

Telling a client a story is not a sales trick

To many service professionals, “storytelling” sounds like a word from a sales course. Telling a client a story can feel like a technique, and a little dishonest.

Khan’s stories are about hotels she has stayed in. Cole’s terrace is the room the client would be paying for. Tamsin’s evening, with Mrs. Ambrose at her table during the toast, is the job Tamsin will do. A story is a trick only when it describes something the client will not get. When it describes the work as the client will live it, the story tells the client more than the list does.

How to tell a client what the work will be like

1. Before your next first meeting, write down one story from your own experience of the work. Choose something you lived, and tell it in the past tense. Keep it to one or two sentences, the length of a short fact about yourself. That way, your turn stays shorter than the client’s. For example, a music teacher can say, “I played my first recital at nine, on a church piano that was out of tune. My father stood up at the end.”
2. In the meeting, listen for the moment the client describes. It might be an evening that went wrong or a day they want back. Write down their words. For example, a dog walker might hear that the dog cries at the door from eight until the children get home.
3. When the client asks what they would get, answer first with what the work will be like for them. Build it from their words. Put it before the list, because a list heard first gets laid beside other lists, the way Tamsin’s was. For the wording, give one moment with a detail the client can check. For example, a private chef whose client said Thursdays are chaos can say, “On Thursdays, there’s a pot on the stove from six. Whoever gets home last still eats it hot.”
4. Then give the list in a sentence or two, and your fee. Add one sentence about when the work would start, and stop. For example, a tutor can say, “That’s two sessions a week until the exam in March, at $160 a session. We’d start the week after next.”
5. Tell your own story only when it connects to something the client said. If nothing the client said connects to it, keep it for another meeting. For example, a coach whose client dreads speaking at board meetings can say, “At my first board meeting, I read every word off the slides. Nobody looked up once.”

Next: You will see how to say your piece in a sales meeting briefly, so that it does not sound like a pitch.