True Story
I was in my mid-twenties. I had left teaching and had an executive job in downtown Chicago. I was a young professional with a disposable income, who needed some business suits. My mother had taught me the value of investment dressing–now that I’d finally quit growing. She had said it was worth buying classic, expensive clothing that fit well, because the investment never went out of fashion. A 36-inch inseam meant off-the-rack clothing wasn’t an option for me anyway.
It was a Saturday afternoon when I arrived at the storefront on Wabash Avenue. This was the kind of place where CEOs sat on embroidered couches reading Forbes magazine, while a wife or current affair of the heart decided which 7 or 8 suits and dresses she simply could not live without. Then he paid and, they both left happy.
Three women, all at least 10 years older than my mother who was 30 years older than me, were standing at the elegant counter when I walked in. I was wearing my baby blue, down-filled ski jacket with the torn pocket, a bright red ski sweater with a bicycle tire embroidered on the front, and my blue jeans that came complete with frayed bell bottoms, a patch on each back pocket–have a good day/have a nice night–and a drawing in ink up the inside right thigh that I had made while talking on the phone the night before.
All three ladies, who worked on commission, looked up when I came in. I was the only other person in the store.
I wasn’t the usual vision that walked through the door.
Hoity Hoity Meet Saloonkeeper’s Daughter
Two of the ladies–hoity toity is the only word to describe them–frowned and immediately went back to talking. They had tried to intimidate me right out the door. It was sort of like that scene in the movie, “Pretty Woman.” That didn’t bother me. I was a saloonkeeper’s daughter. Obviously they’d never seen one of me.
The third lady, who probably was there to make a living, came over as if I were a customer. We talked for five minutes. I went to a fitting room. She brought me six suits. I bought three of them. She made a $1000 sale in a half hour. I so enjoyed the looks on the faces of the hoity and toity as my new friend, Mary, rung up the sale, and we spoke of when I’d be back again. I said a cheerful good-bye to all three–Mary and the two with their jaws at their knees.
Mary became my personal shopper. I returned to that shop every two or three months for about five years. I tried to wear those same blue jeans whenever I went there. Just for the fun of it. Naturally, I updated the artwork each time for the occasion.
Who’s a Customer?
I was a customer. I might not have been, if Mary had not come over. I would have looked around. If nothing caught my heart in a beat, I would have taken my money next door. I expect they would have thought I had figured out their store was too good for me.
They would have been wrong, lost a customer, and lost five years of sales without ever knowing it. Blame the artwork on my blue jeans. It couldn’t have been them or how they looked at me. Could it?
How do you know a customer? Why in the heck am I telling you this?
Brand you and me.
–ME “Liz” Strauss
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Great Story! Way to make me click through also 🙂
Many years ago (Thanks for the memories) I watched something similar unfold.
Being new as a car salesman (yeah, well) I watched one day as this really raggedy guy with blue jean coveralls all covered in paint and gunk walked in the showroom and was ignored by all the “long timers.” The dealership had just hired this fresh (new) young man who had not a clue but was sitting at his desk and the grubby guy walked up to him.
A half hour later, that young man had 14 orders for new vans (in stock!) to hand to the manager. The following day he delivered them and the raggedy guy PAID CASH for them all! Only the next day the raggedy guy was in his finest three piece. He owned a Construction Co. and worked right along side his guys every day.
I’ll never forget that.
Mark
Yep, that’s how it worked. I bet the guy came in dressed that way on purpose, knowing he’d get a better deal and a nicer sales person in the process.
Thanks for the story to underscore what I’m trying to say here.
Liz
Hey Liz,
Mine is not about sales, but I think it fits.
Shopping in the mall one day in cut-offs and tank-top, I went into a store to buy something (don’t remember the store or what I bought).
Of course, the none of the salepeople wanted anything to do with me, so I had to track down someone to get what I wanted who treated me like dirt.
2 weeks later that same sales person came to the company I worked for for a job.
Guess who did the interview…
Joe
I sure had a fun, evil laugh over that one. Excellent example. Thanks for the story.
Boy, this is fun.
Haven’t got a real life example guys so it’s off to Tinsletown 😉
Pretty Woman – Julia Roberts character out shopping getting snubbed by snobby sales folks. Next day, gets her payback by dropping in to say hi with all her purchases made at another store – the look on the faces … mercy!
Martin,
I was using a picture that you could see, and obviously you saw it. 🙂
Haha … see what a good headline does for ya. I read the headline and ony the comments and chipped in.
I just read the post in full now, but lets just say you added the “Pretty Woman” thing after my comment. Okay. Good. Carry on then … 🙂
Even funnier, I thought you were teasing me. . . about using that image . . . not using it yourself. So I didn’t read well either. Um . . . er. . . so as you say, good carry on then,
I can’t carry on.
I’ve put all my eggs (400+ rss feeds) into one basket and my rss feeder of choice is NewsGator and it has been down for hours… It’s the most searched topic at Technorati.
You’d think I’d then have time to read your post (seeing I’ve got nothing to do tonight but troll around) but I’m just a lazy smuck at the end of the day.
Ah Martin,
It’s the end of the day and you’re tired.
Have cold one and some nachos. Relax. There’s only friends here. 🙂
Actually it’s 2am and I’m so relaxed I’m almost sleeping.
And now you got me humming the Pretty Woman song. 🙂
I’ll catch you tomorrow guys n’ gals, where I’ll try and do another blind comment for your pleasure.
Sweet Dreams
Sleepy Swell
Pretty woman part II . nice story 🙂
Sometimes it sounds kind of sad that a person is judged by his clothes.
Let me tell you one story about a friend of mine (pseudonymous??) .. well once when he was still in college he went to this really big hotel-5-7 stars, with his friends to attend a conference, his professor has invited him. Since he was not accustomed to the surroundings he asked the gatekeeper about the conference, the gatekeeper rudely told him that there is no such conference and if he is invited by his professor then he should wait outside!!!!
But then there was this one time when he went to paris and was looking around in a BIG perfume shop when a young lady came and asked if he needed any help. He said that he was there just to see. She replied with a smile “sure, ur welcome” ..that kinda led him to buy couple of things for his family 🙂
HI Jack,
Glad to see that the bookmark works! I’m still working on the header. It’s a little more complicated than it looks.
Sounds like your friend is a wise one. And that the gatekeeper, as so many in that job do, took himself and his job too seriously. Good on the woman in the jewelry store!
Thanks for the story. Sadly these kinds of things happen too often. Even sadder, few are the folks who haven’t given as well as received.
Liz
Great post. I’ve had similar experiences when I have dressed down. I had security follow me around an upscale store once.
I laughed but I also refuse to shop there again.
Hi JD
Did you let the store know that you refused to go there?
I remember once a rude waiter had to take over for one that was really good. He treated us (6 professional women) as if he assumed we wouldn’t tip him. We a friend went to order, he showed her the top of her pen and asked what was it. Then said “Get to the point,”
When the meal ended, I found the manager, I said I was leaving a fabulous tip–I did–I wanted ALL of it to go to the first waiter and none to him. I explained why, including that he offered us coffee, but no dessert, even though the dessert menus were right under his arm.
That felt good. I’ve only done that one other time since.
Liz
It’s so true. At the moment I don’t look like a customer of anything, toothpaste, suits, servers. Looking at me you wouldn’t know if I could afford to get on a bus or not. As a informed customer of the things I am buying I’m loving it. Not being hasseled at all but it if I needed help or info on something I know I’d get cranky but getting the attention I feel I deserve because I’m ready to buy. To many service people make poor judgements based on assumptions (i always say the mother of all F ups) that affect the bottom line of biz small + large. Lucky for these people I’m doing a media interview on Friday and thus in a net cafe waiting for my hair cut appointment at 3:15.
Hi Anthony,
It’s darned irritating to be ready to buy and have to hunt down the attention to give someone my money. I like your phrase
the attention I feel I deserve because I’m ready to buy
Darn right you deserve it. You’re going to put food on someone’s table with your purchase.
Sad that your haircut means they’ll do a better job. That’s a sitcom line. . . .:)
Liz
It can be irritating but I’m the customer from hell so I don’t let it get to me, I just seek the service I expect elsewhere. I’ve walked out of a store right up to the point of being at the register ready to hand my “hard earned” if I’m not happy. It’s not me trying to be dramatic or trying to prove a point but being a former marketing student with too much understanding of teh consumer buying processes it’s the whole post purchase dissonance. If they don’t care enough when I hand over coin what are they going to be like next week when a hard drive fails, the sticthing is shot or my teeth are green?
I hear you, Anthony.
That’s exactly how every customer should think. It only makes sense. Once the money has exchanged hands what reason do they have to care, if they didn’t care before they got it?