The Goddess Speaks
The Goddess Speaks
Most of what I know about shopping I learned from Liberty House and my mom. It’s not who you are that
really matters, it’s how you shopMy mom insists on being treated well and sees nothing wrong with taking the liberty of letting people who are paid to serve know that.
In the early '70s, long before Ala Moana Center became designer boutique central, Sears, Penney's and Liberty House stood out. Liberty House was at the cutting edge of high-end merchandising back then. When peers said they bought something from Liberty House, they conveyed a sense of worldly-wiseness, of arriving to a certain level of "havingness."
Through the policies of Liberty House, I learned about customer service, most still in place even now as they plan to morph into Macy's. Don't have what you want? They'll call another store for you and transfer it. Sure, you can put that on hold for three days. Still haven't decided? Call back and extend. Don't like it when you get home? Return it. Miss the return deadline? You can still get merchandise credit. Wore the shoes already? No problem, bring them back with the receipt.
Naive as it may be, I'd expect this from other stores that eventually came to fore, and when their policies weren't up to par, wondered why not.
Those Liberty House salesclerks worked hard for their pay when it came to my mom. If a shoe was available in three colors, she'd ask to try on all three, please, in 6-1/2 and 7, because she's an in-between size and each may be cut differently. I'd observe, silently mortified, and felt badly for those salespeople if she walked away and bought nothing.
But she knew that was her prerogative, and so did they. My mom is used to being pampered, anyway, thanks to my dad.
The way a person shops might reveal a bit of how they approach relationships and life.
Window-shopping, for instance, is just like dating, a girlfriend said. "You don't know if you want to buy, so you look, and you 'try on' and walk away if you decide it doesn't work. You want to be sure those shoes won't pinch when you get them home. Otherwise, it's tough to return them." She lives on the mainland, in a city that doesn't have a Liberty House, obviously.
Another friend would rather give a purchase to Goodwill than return it. (Likes to appear in control. Hates to admit she makes mistakes.)
One buys without thinking twice, doesn't even look at the cost. (Impulsive. Borderline reckless. Says, "I'm asking him out, even if I don't know a thing about him; but he looks good and I want him now. Who cares what price I'll have to pay?")
Another puts items on hold and calls back to extend, even if she probably won't buy it. (Cautious. Indecisive. "Well, maybe I'll go out with him. I'll have to talk to him a few more times. Even then I'm still not sure I'll go out with him.)
Another buys clothes she doesn't wear, then exchanges them for something else next season. (Self-centered. Keeps all options open. "I'm just going out with him until something better comes along.")
Shopping can be like life, but life is not always like shopping. In life we're not always right, and we don't usually get more credit than we deserve.
I had an episode recently at a clothing store with a salesperson who wouldn't give me credit on something that was discounted a week after I bought it. (Trouble letting go of the past. "He looks like my old boyfriend, so I went out with him -- and I ended up stuck with the bill. I'm tracking him down now to pay his half.")
I knew this would not be so if this store were Liberty House.
"Let me talk to the manager," I said -- something my mom would say.
"I'm it," he said, "I'm the manager of this store."
"That's right," I said, "you're the manager of a store that is here for me, the customer. This store doesn't exist just so that you can manage it. What is your name?" I asked, and when he said it, his voice cracked.
I wrote the store's mainland customer relations department to relay my dismay -- another mom move -- and they sent me a pleasant note of apology and a certificate to buy something nice for myself. The squeaky wheel gets treated well in retail.
He could learn a few lessons from Liberty House, and he's lucky it was me he dealt with instead of my mother. Well, maybe it was my mother.
The Goddess Speaks runs every Tuesday
and is a column by and about women, our strengths, weaknesses,
quirks and quandaries. If you have something to say, write it and
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