Retail Myth #1: We Know When Things Will Go On Sale

We really don't know when a specific item will be marked down. Most retailers do have a set day that they post markdowns on but that doesn't necessarily happen every week and I will never tell someone what day mine are on. (Have you ever been pricing items for a yard sale while your early customers are following you around?..."How much do you want for this?" and "How much is that?", etc.) When markdowns are posted, the opening staff is typically notified of them upon opening and gets to work with their pricing guns or markdown pens right away. So...you know when we know.

So asking "Do you know when this dress will go on sale?" is almost rhetorical. No one really knows. I advise you to buy something if you love it. If it goes on sale within two weeks, most retailers will adjust the price for you (just be sure to check their policy, usually found on the back of your receipt.) If it never goes on sale, you bought something you love and were lucky to find your size before someone else scooped it up. Early bird catches the worm, after all.

Boob Jobs and Lobotomies

Ladies,

Why do you always want to show us your new boobs? I know it must be a really life-altering event and difficult to keep under wraps but seriously, if you were a guy displaying your junk, I would call the cops and you'd have to register your sorry self as a sex offender for indecent exposure. So why the need to showboat the rack? And why do you always surprise us with them? I return from the sales floor with the "next size up" to accommodate your "new girls", per your request, and you open the fitting room door topless with a dumb grin on your face.

It is wasted on me and all of my salesgirls. I intentionally ignore you because I know you are looking for a reaction and roll my eyes as I walk away, wondering if they gave you a lobotomy as a two-for-one special. If you are looking for a little excitement and a giggle, you should head over to the Diesel store and give the teen boys a treat. If you are looking for a little self-improvement, head over to Barnes & Noble and buy a book. It's cheaper than plastic surgery and you'll get a lot more mileage out of an enhanced brain.

It always reminds me of the scene from Summer Rental with the late, great John Candy and a bikini-clad bimbo. Watch the trailer here, the bimbo is about a minute in:

Summer Rental

Does This Make Me Look Fat?

One of the most common questions I get and don't always know how to answer is the "does this make me look fat" query. It's usually asked by a tall, thin woman with "enhanced features", so to speak. I never understood why any woman as small as a 2 would even have the word "fat" in their lexicon but wonders never cease to amaze, I suppose.

I hate answering this question (positively or negatively) for the following reasons:

• Fishing for a compliment is annoying.


• Validating image because of body dysmorphic disorder is also annoying.


• Pulling an Alpha-female move. "See how much thinner I am than you?"


• Reinforcing what their jerk of a husband criticizes all the time.


• I want to sell what you are wearing but don't want to lie or brown-nose to close the deal.

I may take a second to figure out which way to go ("does she want my honest opinion or does she want me to make her feel pretty?") but, ultimately, I will (almost) always tell you the truth, as most great salespeople will. If I sell you something that makes your butt look big, your jerk husband will ridicule you and you will just return it anyway. Or you may catch a glimpse of yourself in an unflattering mirror and have a meltdown and you will just return it anyway. Or your child will make an innocent comment about your muffin top and you will just return it anyway. See my thought process? My goal is to sell you something you look great in so it won't come back.

I did have a customer, years ago, try a dress on that looked so bad on her that I practically begged her not to buy it. I showed her option after option to try on instead of the one she had her heart set on. She was annoyed and a little offended, even though she asked for my honesty, and ultimately bought the unflattering dress over a multitude of prettier alternatives. It was a flesh-colored tiered-ruffle strapless number that was just awful on her complexion and figure. She was wearing it to a wedding. I have always wondered if she loved the dress after all or if she shrieked when she saw herself in the pictures.

I have since learned to ask you first. "What do you think?" If your response is "I love it" and I don't love it, I will say "You look great!" and hope that karma doesn't come back to get me. The actual truth is, I rarely think someone looks awful in something...I think we women are really too self-critical and need to just go with our instincts and if it makes you feel good, go for it! Big butt be damned!

image credit: www.bizarro.com

Cell Phones

Dear Ms. Loud-Talker,

Contrary to popular social beliefs, I couldn't care less if you talk on your cell phone for the entire hour that you shop in my store and try on clothes. As long as you keep your voice low enough that I can still think and you don't glare at the rest of us for continuing to carry on with our own discussions. As much as my customer and I enjoyed listening to the argument you had with your (we think) ex (or soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend, we decided to go ahead and select a wardrobe for her honeymoon trip. We could tell you were aggravated with us, but our time is valuable, too. I realize that talking about which short length better suits her proportions and the virtues of A-line dresses vs. sheath dresses was very rudely interrupting the conference call you were having with your two best friends and sister but I was truly torn between creating the perfect sound environment for your comfort and helping a really good client. I hope I made the right choice. And when another customer wanted to pass by you with her stroller, I hope you weren't too inconvenienced to let her by. I could tell you have an adverse reaction to children and appreciate that you simply continued your phone chat with your long-lost school chum at your normal vocal level instead of kicking the toddler. I'm sure her mom will be happy to explain later what the "f-word" is, probably after she repeats it at the perfect moment. I personally appreciated that you would rather help yourself to a dressing room while juggling your iPhone, a large coffee and a purse the size of a small car than trouble me. You even seemed angry that I would go out of my way to help you...always thinking of others. I had been craving a coffee most of the afternoon but was too busy to run to Starbucks and was glad you shared yours with me via a $200 white dress and silk blouse crumpled on your dressing room floor. I didn't want to sell them anyway, I'd rather toss them in the rubbish bin to drive up the pricing on the rest of the goods we sell. You are a very thoughtful person. I hope you will pay a visit to my rival across the street and continue to pay it forward.

Copyright © 2009 The Retail Diaries.

Can't wait to see you again real soon!

P.S. The rash you were describing to your friends and sister is something you should have checked out...and maybe do that before you toss your lying boyfriend out on his sorry ass like you have planned.

The Great Sunglasses Caper

A regular customer (who is not the friendliest but we are used to it) stormed into the boutique on a Saturday morning demanding we return her precious Vera Bradley sunglasses she'd worn while shopping the day before. After searching every fitting room, our little lost-and-found drawer and under the chairs in the waiting room, we came up completely empty-handed. We offered to call her if we found them. I personally went so far as to contact every store in our entire shopping center to see if they had turned up. Nothing. She called two more times that afternoon and made a personal appearance on Sunday, accusing one of us of stealing her glasses. They meant so much to her, they were a gift and she was sure we were being dishonest. Again, assurances to call if they were found. Asking if they had possibly fallen under the seat of her car threw her into a fit though I feared it would before the words were even out of my mouth. She called again the next day and we still had not found them, she promised to call our headquarters to complain. One of my part-time associates said to me "why would someone be so hateful to people who go out of their way to help her in a store she loves so much she stops in at least once a week?"

Not 30 minutes later, the phone rings again. This time it's a young lady, very upset over a pair of missing Louis Vuitton sunglasses, insisting she lost them in our store and asks me to scour the fitting room she was just in. The rooms had been checked, they are cleared out after each customer with the efficiency of a hazmat team, but I look anyway and no sunglasses. Her temper is escalating on the phone and she is on her way back to the store to see for herself. I do have paying customers that I am juggling between the great sunglasses caper but I am honestly beginning to wonder if I don't have a thief in my midst. My young Louis Vuitton victim walks in, I know her immediately. "I just called about my sunglasses. Have you found them?" she looks so upset she might vomit. (I would, too, if I thought I'd lost a $600 pair of glasses.) Honestly, with no smugness at all, I say "Are they black?" {"yes"} "Embossed with the LV logo in silver on the sides?" she's nodding, relieved that I found them. "I think they're still on your head." Eyes big as saucers, hand goes up to affirm the shape of the glasses perched in her hair and all she can get out is "Omigod!" followed by "I'm so sorry", etc. We all had a little laugh, it's no problem, happens all the time, hardeeharhar, etc. and she's on her way, a little less oblivious than before, bless her heart.
Copyright © 2009 The Retail Diaries.

So another week passes and we had been collectively wondering if the Vera Bradley sunglasses ever turned up. In she walks one afternoon, sunglasses on, and my assistant who was nearest recognizes the glasses right away. "Hey, Mrs. X, did you find your sunglasses??" Dismissively, "Oh, yes, I'd left them at my sister's house." I wonder if her sister wears Louis Vuitton.

Personally, I prefer Chanel.

My First Store, or A Consumer is Born

I opened my first boutique on Christmas Day, 1983. I was 8 and the boutique was a thing to behold. The Barbie Dream Store. You know, I think that was the first moment I had truly been bitten by the retail bug (or at least consumerism.) I had been asking for Barbie's Dream House around every major holiday for years and though it always eluded me, I amassed a huge collection of shop counters, a spa, townhouse, an office with a condo, jeep with trailer and palomino, and a collection of designer clothing and accessories any Hollywood starlet would envy, most of which I still have today (the townhouse was lost some years ago due to water damage.)

I shared a large bedroom with my little sister in which my mom had set up an old dining room table to display our Barbie gear on. I held fashion shows, posed my Barbies all over the house and, thanks to the hand-me-down table, linked together the first (to my knowledge) Barbie Lifestyle Center. I was way ahead of my time. The townhouse (with elevator) was next to the Bubbling Spa and Beauty Salon which was conveniently located adjacent to Dream Store Accessories and Cosmetics Counter shopping, neighboring Barbie's office, gym and the grocery store. My little sister was always cramping my style by setting up her My Little Pony Salon next to my Barbie Dream Community so I guess it's no surprise she pursued a career in retail as well. Copycat.

Copyright © 2009 The Retail Diaries.

I can only imagine some of the play scenarios we had with the old Dream Store. *Sigh*...to be young and innocent again. If I ever have kids, they will play with encyclopedias and medical instruments... Barbie will be verboten. In related news, I'm saving up for a trip to Shanghai.

The First Post

Hello, world! Welcome to my little retail blog.

I have been thinking about starting this up for a while and finally got off my keister today to get it up and running. Please indulge the intro post and allow me to explain what my blog is and isn't intended to accomplish. My intent is to provide a little humor for my readers (which currently consists only of yours truly) as well as a little therapy for myself and {hopefully} a little insight into some of the most common retail questions I know my friends and family have ("when will this go on sale?" "why are they so pushy?" "why was that girl so rude?" "why do they always ignore me in that store?" "why won't they leave me alone in that store?" "whatever happened to customer service?" and so on...) I do not intend to belittle, badmouth or ridicule customers, however, I have some really crazy stories to share and some of them may not paint customers in the best light. If you are the sensitive type, just keep in mind that the more outlandish stories are about certifiable loonies, not the average customer.
Copyright © 2009 The Retail Diaries.
Please know that everything I share here is true and original unless otherwise credited. (Read: don't copy my stories, please.) Now that all the boring stuff is out of the way, I hope you'll stick around and have a laugh or two.