Retail Over-Achiever

My husband is fond of saying, “You get what you pay for.”  To a certain extent he is right; however, this does not stop me from trying to find bargains wherever I may.  On the other hand, there is one retailer I have learned to appreciate for its solicitous and relenting brand of service.  At this time of year, when the mall stores are impossible and customers and just plain rude, I slip into Nordstrom just for the civility.

What distinguishes Nordstrom from the others is that its employees are motivated by commission not to say ‘no.’   There are many companies that pay lip service to the notion that the customer is supreme, but Nordstrom practices what it preaches.  Throughout my professional career, Nordstrom was an important business partner, bailing me out of more than a few jams.  But the extent to which they would labor to earn my allegiance surprised even me.

There was that time I was returning to work after the birth of my son.  My work-appropriate shoes were all stretched out of shape from the maternity expansion experience, no longer able to stay on my post-delivery feet when walking.  Despite a guaranteed three month maternity leave, my boss ordered me to Atlanta on short notice (from San Francisco) for a meeting, a full month shy of my scheduled return.  I struggled to put together a suitable wardrobe for my trip to the unflinchingly formal corporate office, finding that I had nothing but sneakers for my feet.   I made a trip to Nordstrom with my newborn, finding the shoes I needed in ugly beige but not in black.  I sighed audibly.  “When do you leave?” the sales associate asked.  “I’m afraid I leave late tomorrow afternoon,” I replied, as the baby started to fuss.  “Don’t worry,” she said, not even commenting on the fact that ‘tomorrow’ was Sunday.  “I’ll get these to you before you leave.”  The next morning, when my husband opened the front door to retrieve the Sunday paper, there was a box of black shoes on our doorstep.  Inside was a note that said, “Have a nice trip.”

On another occasion I was visiting a client in the Washington, DC area.  A former colleague had just become CEO of a small company located in McLean, VA.  I arranged to meet him at his Tyson’s Corner office later that afternoon, with plans to have dinner before my late flight home.  I arrived ahead of schedule with a couple of hours to kill before our meeting time.  I wandered over to the new Nordstrom that had just opened adjacent to his office.  Walking around, I was overheated and uncomfortable in my tailored suit and nagging panty hose.  I picked out some leggings and a long bulky cotton sweater—more comfortable for a casual dinner with an old friend.  While I was checking out, the sales associate cut the price tags off the new clothes I was now wearing.  I wondered how to deal gracefully with my suit since this was a day trip and I had no luggage with me—only a small brief case.  I asked the sales associate if she could ship the suit I had been wearing to my home.  “Of course I can,” she smiled politely.

In an earlier report, I described how Nordstrom saved the day when my husband inadvertently arrived at my father’s funeral with his tuxedo.  Within 15 minutes, the sales associate from the men’s department met us outside with a dark jacket in my husband’s size.  All the tags had been cut off and the pocket and vent stitching removed.   This was not our only “drive by” Nordstrom experience.  More recently, my husband had a trip he neglected to put on my calendar.  Because we hadn’t planned well in advance, he was suddenly out of socks with no time to run the laundry.   With one phone call, we needed only a slight detour on the way to the airport in which to claim the special-size socks my husband requires for his size 13 feet.  Again, the sales associate came out to the car as we drove up to the side entrance.

Once I had purchased a cute silk dress for a wedding.  It was an all-over print of tiny flowers on a purple background.  I did not wish to wear white shoes with it; nor would black look at all appropriate.  This dress needed purple shoes.  I took the dress to the shoe department at Nordstrom, but could find nothing on display that seemed to match.  I was becoming a bit disheartened when a sales associate approached.  I showed him the fabric on the dress, explaining that I had hoped to find some purple shoes to match.  “Let me consult the purple wall!” he said.   He explained that their inventory was arranged in the back by color, asking whether there was a particular style I had in mind.  I asked for a simple closed pump with a reasonable, medium heel.  I am not exaggerating when I say that he emerged with twelve different pairs of shoes in my size matching that description.

Nordstrom’s signature service far exceeds these examples of just-in-time sales.  They are just as magnanimous on the other side of the sales cycle.  For example, my husband had a favorite dress shirt that seemed to have shrunk around the neck from one laundering to the next even though he had not gained weight.  I took the much-worn shirt back to Nordstrom to ask them if this was a common problem with this particular label.  He showed me a tag at the bottom of the front placket that indicates the year in which the shirt was made.  It was three years old.  “We make these shirts to last five years,” he said.  “Why don’t you pick out a new one?”  Just like that, he replaced the shirt with a brand new one.

A few years ago I bought my daughter a cute watch for Chanukah—one of those white plastic watches with crystals around the face.  After a few months, one of the crystals came loose and was lost.  I took it back to Nordstrom to see if they had extra crystals with which to repair the watch.  The sales associate pulled out a brand new watch and handed it to me.  On another occasion I was shopping with my daughter for purses.  A sales woman asked me if I had purchased my Longchamps bag at Nordstrom.  “Yes,” I replied.  “Well give it to me,” she said.  “You have a scratch in your bag and their leather isn’t supposed to do that.”  She went to the back and brought me a brand new identical bag.

I have been unable to discover a limit to the enthusiasm with which Nordstrom employees serve their customers.  At one point, I purchased several gowns with the intent of finding something comfortable for a particular piano performance.  One gown I liked, but after four years found that it was still hanging in my closet with all its tags.  I brought it to the local store and they took it back without question, delving through my charging history to make sure that I received full credit for the retail price I had paid.

Every day this week, my email inbox was choked with discounts and coupons trying to woo me into various retail stores.  I love a bargain as much as the next guy.  When I buy an appliance or a book, it’s nice to get the lowest possible price.  I have found dress shirts in my husband’s impossible size at CostCo for $14.99; he can barely tell the difference.  He will wear a single pair of LL Bean penny loafers gladly for ten or fifteen years.  On the other hand, I confess that I enjoy this last bastion of civilization in the retail world.  I love that they call me “Mrs.” and not by my first name.  I love that the sales associate recognizes me by sight and recalls what I purchased the last time around.  I love that they take my purchase and walk around the counter with it, handing it to me as if embracing the opportunity for human contact. 

The Nordstrom formula works because they instill a culture of service in their employees.  Their employees all work on commission, so they really and truly care about long term customer relationships and satisfaction.  In this world of gimmicks, isn’t it nice that one company has figured out how to give customers what they really want.