How shall I spend my $100 gift certificate? The Report Signature shoe is nearly double the price of the gift certificate, so it's likely out of the question. But I'm drawn to it.
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Dec 18, 2007
Adventures in customer service
When approached by a customer who's had a problem with her order, help resolve the issue. Do not go into lengthy detail about IT issues; employees who are lazy, arrogant, or stupid; or problems with the supply chain. Save it for the company newsletter.
Special message to busy baristas: When a customer complains that she hasn't gotten her order, avoid calling the customer a liar. It makes her grouchy.
Special message to busy baristas: When a customer complains that she hasn't gotten her order, avoid calling the customer a liar. It makes her grouchy.
Dec 9, 2007
Standardized sizes? I wish
Virginia Postrel on clothing sizes, specifically women's clothing sizes:
Not so. The real problem is that there are no standard sizes. Ask any woman trying on clothes: In one brand you wear a 6, in another a 4 and in a third a 12. Not to mention S, M, L. One brand's S often turns out to be another brand's L.
Once upon a time, I'm told, one could reliably be a size XYZ. And there were variations in fit, too. There used to be a distinction between junior and missy sizing; I believe juniors were for shorter-waisted women. Now the distinction seems to be that junior sizes are tighter, less well made and way too young for anyone over 18.
This doesn't solve the problem of having a different size top and bottom--a problem for many women--but it at least helps eliminate uncertainty. And the freakish feeling Virginia describes.
And men don't have it easier because they have fewer bumps; they have it easier because their clothing actually still comes in standard sizes. A man wants a dress shirt, he measures his neck and his sleeve and--presto, chango--he knows what size to buy. A man wants an off-the-rack suit, he goes in the store, the salesperson measures him and he's got a suit. A suit with free alterations to eliminate the differences between a man's nonstandard body and his standard-sized suit.
Though designed as a mere convenience, clothing sizes establish an unintended norm, an ideal from which deviations seem like flaws. There’s nothing like a trip to the dressing room to convince a woman—fat, thin, or in between—that she’s a freak. Her torso is too long for the jacket or too short for the dress. Her arms are too short for the blouse that fits her bust. Her seat is too flat for the pants that hug her waist. Her hips nearly split the skirt that fits her waist. The more tailored the garment, the greater the problem. (Men’s clothes are easier, because they tend to be looser and because, as one industry expert puts it, men “have fewer bumps.”) Jeans are particularly troublesome. With its body-hugging fit, America’s egalitarian uniform provides little room to hide deviations from the norm.
And nobody’s normal. Sizes are standardized. Bodies aren’t.
Not so. The real problem is that there are no standard sizes. Ask any woman trying on clothes: In one brand you wear a 6, in another a 4 and in a third a 12. Not to mention S, M, L. One brand's S often turns out to be another brand's L.
Once upon a time, I'm told, one could reliably be a size XYZ. And there were variations in fit, too. There used to be a distinction between junior and missy sizing; I believe juniors were for shorter-waisted women. Now the distinction seems to be that junior sizes are tighter, less well made and way too young for anyone over 18.
This doesn't solve the problem of having a different size top and bottom--a problem for many women--but it at least helps eliminate uncertainty. And the freakish feeling Virginia describes.
And men don't have it easier because they have fewer bumps; they have it easier because their clothing actually still comes in standard sizes. A man wants a dress shirt, he measures his neck and his sleeve and--presto, chango--he knows what size to buy. A man wants an off-the-rack suit, he goes in the store, the salesperson measures him and he's got a suit. A suit with free alterations to eliminate the differences between a man's nonstandard body and his standard-sized suit.
May 19, 2007
96 rolls of toilet paper
Since I've been unemployed, I've discovered the joys of BJ's Wholesale Club. I've never shopped at one of these places before. We had a Costco near where I used to live, but I got pissed off when they wouldn't even let me in without a membership card. How am I supposed to know if I want to join if I can't check out the merchandise?
Anyway, BJ's was kind enough to send me a two-month free membership so I dropped in to check out the goods. Day one saw me kind of cautious--I wasn't sure if anything in there was cheaper than the stuff in the supermarket--so I left with a shitload of paper towels and a two-pack of Smuckers All Natural Peanut Butter. And gas. BJ's sells gas 6-10 cents cheaper than the cheap places near me, so that was a must.
Then I got to thinking: Here I am unemployed and taking home half my last paycheck; obviously, it's time to economize. So I stopped in again and picked up a huge pack of Crystal Light Lemonade mix, three and a half pounds of coffee beans and 20 packs of Trident Whitening Gum. As these were all products I used, I felt that they were well worth it.
Today, I needed cleaning products. I'm a sucker for cleaning products and it was all I could do to restrain myself. I managed to make do with only three quarts of dishwashing liquid, enough dishwashing detergent for 150 loads, some Swiffer cloths and the aforementioned toilet paper.
Paper goods and cleaning products seem like good investments. But I had to look around and see what else they had. I needed some foodstuffs. Here's where I knew I had to be careful. I mean, how much mayonnaise can two people eat before it turns to ptomaine? But there were so many temptations: Whole haunches of lamb, smoked salmon by the truckload, 64 ounces of cashew nuts. I consider myself lucky that I left with only a 4-pack of assorted mustards, we do need mustard; 64 ounces of raspberry preserves, to go with all that peanut butter; two pounds of sliced swiss cheese; and a three-pack of Hebrew National Hotdogs.
I'm gonna go broke saving all this money.
Anyway, BJ's was kind enough to send me a two-month free membership so I dropped in to check out the goods. Day one saw me kind of cautious--I wasn't sure if anything in there was cheaper than the stuff in the supermarket--so I left with a shitload of paper towels and a two-pack of Smuckers All Natural Peanut Butter. And gas. BJ's sells gas 6-10 cents cheaper than the cheap places near me, so that was a must.
Then I got to thinking: Here I am unemployed and taking home half my last paycheck; obviously, it's time to economize. So I stopped in again and picked up a huge pack of Crystal Light Lemonade mix, three and a half pounds of coffee beans and 20 packs of Trident Whitening Gum. As these were all products I used, I felt that they were well worth it.
Today, I needed cleaning products. I'm a sucker for cleaning products and it was all I could do to restrain myself. I managed to make do with only three quarts of dishwashing liquid, enough dishwashing detergent for 150 loads, some Swiffer cloths and the aforementioned toilet paper.
Paper goods and cleaning products seem like good investments. But I had to look around and see what else they had. I needed some foodstuffs. Here's where I knew I had to be careful. I mean, how much mayonnaise can two people eat before it turns to ptomaine? But there were so many temptations: Whole haunches of lamb, smoked salmon by the truckload, 64 ounces of cashew nuts. I consider myself lucky that I left with only a 4-pack of assorted mustards, we do need mustard; 64 ounces of raspberry preserves, to go with all that peanut butter; two pounds of sliced swiss cheese; and a three-pack of Hebrew National Hotdogs.
I'm gonna go broke saving all this money.
Jan 16, 2007
'If it feels good, buy it'
John Tierney looks at the brain's shopping center.
The winter sales have my nucleus accumbens buzzing this month, beginning with a $150 pair of shoes I got for $25, a $200 purse I got for $65 and a coat (pictured above in grey; mine is red) I got for $100, which retails for $300. All of these items had my brain saying "At this price you can't afford not to buy," although I don't actually need any of them.
I will not try to justify my need for the mood clock, the “Dodgeball” DVD, the desk-clip lamp and the smoothie maker. I would rather pin these choices on two culprits.
The first was my nucleus accumbens, a region of the brain with dopamine receptors that are activated when you experience or anticipate something pleasant, like making money or drinking something tasty. In the experimental subjects at Stanford, this region was activated when they first saw pictures of things they wanted to buy. My nucleus accumbens just happened to respond more strongly than the typical subject’s, so what else could I do? If it feels good, buy it.
The other culprit — the main villain, really — was my insula. This region of the brain is activated when you smell something bad, see a disgusting picture or anticipate a painful shock. It was typically activated in the brains of the other shoppers when they saw a price that seemed too high. I’d like to think of my insula as particularly stoic, the strong, silent type, but he’s probably just an oblivious slob.
The winter sales have my nucleus accumbens buzzing this month, beginning with a $150 pair of shoes I got for $25, a $200 purse I got for $65 and a coat (pictured above in grey; mine is red) I got for $100, which retails for $300. All of these items had my brain saying "At this price you can't afford not to buy," although I don't actually need any of them.
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