Zeam's Gen Z Strategies Reshape Brand Engagement

How Zeam Is Helping Brands Win Over Generation Z

Staying Young: How Brands Chase Gen Z—and Why Yael Meier Knows the Secret

Major brands are desperate to turn back the clock. Before their customers—and profits—fade away, they must win over young audiences. Young employees are in demand, too. But how do you impress Gen Z? Yael Meier has the answer. She's turned it into a business model. And she's facing plenty of backlash because of it.

At corporate seminars modeled after speed-dating, the young and the old come face-to-face. A deck of conversation cards keeps the dialogue flowing. One card for the older generation reads: "Imagine you're the CEO of our company. What changes would you make to attract future generations?" The younger participants, meanwhile, ask their elders about the slang of their youth.

Meier developed the card game with her agency, Zeam, to bridge the communication gap with Gen Z, as she explained in the business magazine Brand Eins. Companies like Procter & Gamble and Düsseldorf's municipal savings bank have already put it to use. "You have to talk with young people, not about them," declares the 25-year-old's oft-cited mantra.

The coveted Generation Z—those born between 1995 and 2010—commands outsized influence in the job market thanks to low birth rates. With uncompromising demands, they're upending traditional workplace norms. According to a study by job platform hokify and Vienna's FH WKW University of Applied Sciences, 16- to 31-year-olds are challenging old rules, insisting on digitized hiring processes, respectful communication, trust, and autonomy from day one. Classic recruitment tactics like job ads and career fairs won't cut it with Gen Z.

For Porsche, Meier's agency designed a social media campaign to attract talent in STEM fields. "If we want to recruit and retain young professionals for Porsche, we need a deeper understanding of what drives them," says Andreas Haffner, Porsche's board member for human resources.

Christoph Lütke Schelhowe, Zalando's general manager for the DACH region, believes Meier also has her finger on the pulse of her generation's "shopping and media habits." She's helping the fashion giant refresh its customer base. For Warner Bros. Germany, Zeam is revamping Harry Potter's social media presence to keep the wizard—who first appeared in 1997—relevant for today's audiences.

Her agency even secured a CHF 3.05 million contract from Switzerland's Federal Office of Public Health for a sexual health awareness campaign. Zeam's promise? "Connecting companies with the future." Meier launched the agency in 2020 with her partner, Jo Dietrich, 28; both made Forbes'"30 Under 30" list. She was pregnant with their first child at the time—now, the couple is expecting their third.

For years, Meier has claimed a seat at tables long reserved for older men—and she's not quiet about it. "As a young woman in business, I can't afford to be modest," she told Brand Eins.

Shyness was never her style. Growing up in Vitznau on Lake Lucerne, being the youngest became her trademark. At 14, she landed the lead role in the feature film Upload; by 17, she'd graduated high school and moved to Zurich. To earn money alongside acting, she worked for Swiss tabloid Blick, eventually landing her own column and a podcast.

Instead of chasing a university degree, she embraced "learning by doing" and, with her partner, built an agency centered on the insights of her generation. But the fact that Dietrich—her co-founder and life partner—is the son of Blick's editor-in-chief, Andreas Dietrich, and studied at Lisbon's Nova School of Business and Economics has earned Meier accusations of being a "nepo baby"—someone who benefits from family connections (in this case, her future in-laws). "My very existence is a provocation," she says, a line she's repeated often, most recently in an interview with NZZ. Turns out, she's turned criticism into a brand asset.

Recently, she has faced accusations of self-aggrandizement: her office address, she admits, is not actually on Zurich's prestigious Paradeplatz, as she had claimed, but a few hundred meters away. Nor is the University of St. Gallen—where she has given lectures—the world's top business school, despite her assertions. Meier dismisses the criticism as mere nitpicking. In an interview with NZZ, she argues that social media has led us to adopt an American mindset, where the default is to hype things up first. "It's possible," she concedes, "that this can sometimes give the wrong impression."

During the early days of her company, Yael Meier concealed her first pregnancy from investors—and now advises other female founders to do the same. "As an entrepreneur, you live off the potential others see in you," she tells NZZ. Since her second pregnancy, however, she has shared glimpses of her family life with the public via Instagram, championing the idea that career and family can thrive together through equitable partnerships. The message is clear: women can have it all.

Critics accuse her of overlooking her own privileges, but Meier brushes off the hate with a smile. In an Instagram video titled "The Truth About Haters," she quips, "Criticism is just another form of admiration."

Speaking to Brand Eins, Meier outlines Generation Z's expectations of their bosses: first, open doors and offer guidance; second, delegate responsibility—and pay for it; third, step aside and make room.

She drives the point home with a strategic jab during a keynote, targeting an older audience. "You all remember exactly where you were on September 11, 2001," she observes, as the room conjures the haunting images of that day. Then she delivers the reality check: Gen Z has no emotional memory of it—most weren't even born. The generational divide couldn't be more stark. Nor could the role of the bridge-builder standing before them.