the shop around the corner

Yesterday* I went to my favourite fabric store probably for the last time. It’s a relationship I’ve had since I moved back to Toronto in 1991. Yes it ebbed and flowed but it was always there and for a lot of years it really was the shop around the corner – and well down about 5 blocks.

I was emotional. In fact more emotional that I thought I’d be and I ended up hugging the clerk who had cut my 14 pieces of fabric when that emotion overcame me. I think I startled her too.

I started sewing as a teen. I am mostly self taught but one of the key factors to my success where a couple of women who ran a local fabric shop out of their husband’s sewing machine shop upstairs. In fact the entire family got me started. I bought my first new machine from them. The second hand one I got from a family friend wasn’t in any good shape so I saved to buy my first Janome at – no word of a lie – Sew and Save. But downstairs was where I flourished. With the Polka Dot as competition – think Fabricland size, they were just glad to have the customers. But they also took it upon themselves to nurture and encourage a 15 year old girl as she learned. I was brash at the beginning trying to copy designs from magazines without patterns. And doing an OK job, but dress straps would be mismatched, lopsided and sometimes things just didn’t work out. I graduated to patterns and learned as I went.

When I left the town of my youth for ‘the big city’ I found Designer Fabric Outlet as it was known then – it has since morphed into Designer Fabrics although I think they just cut the Outlet part off the famous orange sign.

Typical of a lot of Queen West West shops at the time the building was old, the sign was crooked and the inside crammed to the rafters. Perhaps left over from the 80s mantra that more was good. Downstairs was sample squares of upholstery fabric, every designer and wannabe in the city, along with their attitude and a most interesting trim shop. Upstairs though, upstairs was almost an afterthought of clothing fabric and soon my favourite place. At the time you couldn’t really see anything but if you asked for something specific they had it or something very close.

Through the times when I didn’t sew at all to the times when I needed to be inspired a jaunt down the way would feed my imagination and get the wheels going. When I was out of thread or needed a button there was a place to fill that need. Even when I moved all the way across the city I went back.

The last 'famous' list from DFO.

The internet let me know that DFO was closing. I decided to make the trek one last time. I had a rare weekday off and made plans. In the end I was called in to do a shift was a pushed my start time back so that I had time to make my trip. Walking in everything seemed as it always was except that everyone knew that wasn’t the case. The old man who owns the place with the beady eyes who watched everything and everyone was still in his chair, he’d migrated there a few years ago as I suspect age made it hard for him to stand all day. I went immediately upstairs as I always did casting an eye at the barrels at the bottom of the stairs. Upstairs I did what I always do. Headed to the knit area and started feeling fabric. Pulling out a bit here and there to see what the fabric weight was and what the texture and pattern looked like and then I started piling. It was quiet and I chatted with the staff a bit. Then when I was ready to start cutting a bird flew in. Just a typical city bird caught in a building after coming in through some old spot. It appeared to be a regular thing and the staff seemed to know how to deal with getting it out without hurting it but it meant killing the lights for a few minutes. And I think that’s when it started. Standing in the dark in this old building that I have frequented for years being forced to be still for a few minutes while they dealt with a bird that had just minutes ago flown so close to my face I felt the wind created by its wings on my face. An excited ‘we got it’ was heard, the lights came back on and the cutting resumed along with some chit chat with the clerk helping me. After all that I headed downstairs to pay and she helped me carry my piles of fabric. That’s when I hugged her, unexpectedly for both of us.

As I finished up my transaction and wished everyone there best of luck I realized that I was really leaving the last of my start in Toronto behind. I’d lived in Parkdale for 6 years and in nearby High Park for another 6 before heading east in the almost classic Toronto migration of life. I still go to High Park for a few things but this was the only reason I go to Parkdale. I waited for the 501 streetcar, outside the library and looked at the changed streetscape.

THAT orange bag.

‘End of an era’ seems to get tossed around a lot lately. We are in some sort of shift that from this vantage point does not seem good if you are at all artistically inclined. Part of that shift is an older generation ending their working lives and deciding not to sell or not finding anyone to sell to as the case may be. Part of it is an overreaching greed that fails to see how nurturing the arts does a city good and can only see the ‘value’ in commodity and real estate. Either way it makes it tough for those of us who find our creative outlet in doing something for ourselves. I wish I had a better way to end this except to say that my heart always does and will probably always do a little flutter when I see an orange shopping bag.



*I wrote this back in July. Since then I have also gone to the closing sale of the Fabricland at the Galleria Malls, where silliness also ensued. And there was a small design shop that closed and they cleared out fabric. I am absolutely swimming in it but access to decent fabric stores and other craft shops is a real issue.

does size matter

Headlines announce Kmart decides to stop using the term ‘plus’ and instead brand these items ‘fabulous sized’. Part of me rolls my eyes and another part of me wonders if this is the disruption that the industry needs.

For years I hovered in the purgatory that exists between ‘regular’ size 14 and ‘plus’ size 16. I didn’t fit in either. There was a short period when I fit into the no longer Additionelle size 12. It was great. I shopped at one store and everything was always on sale because no one really fit that size. Before that it was flip-flopping the aisles at Cotton Ginny where a plus size 12 fit better than a regular size 14 but cost between $5 and $8 more because they used more fabric – no word of a lie this was their rationale for charging larger women more for their clothes. Instead of being honest and admitting they had a captive market with almost no alternative and they could get away with it.

Fortunately the industry keeps adjusting sizes and adding “00” – what used to be size 2. So now I can, mostly, comfortably buy clothes, provided ‘that bitch’ doesn’t get there first and clear out the one size 12/14 that the store has. Although admittedly I most buy knit wear anymore so I have a little give to work with.

I’m not a size warrior. I really don’t care what the label says I just want the clothes to fit properly and be flattering. But what I have never understood is that we know there is a market out there for larger sizes and yet retailers continue to leave money on the table pretending this market doesn’t exist. 

Or perhaps even worse, they shutter this group into online shopping, keeping those larger bodies out of the shops to fit some sort of aesthetic that really shouldn’t exist. And frankly, if you asked most people, nobody is that offended by. Yes I know there are major fat shaming issues out there. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard it. I’ve had it done to me. What I’m hoping to address in this post isn’t this subject. It’s the completely and utter lack of interest in a market that makes money.

Let’s back up for a minute. Buying your clothes off the rack is a relatively new idea. Up until midway through the last century you picked your dresses from a model or a drawing, you were measured and your garment made. If you couldn't afford that you often made your own garments. For centuries prêt a porter was limited to unfitted garments, night clothes and gloves. Simply; your clothes were made to fit you. When ready to wear became prevalent the idea of sizing came into play and suddenly you needed to fit your clothes. But ask any well dressed person and the secret they’ll keep is tailoring. There is no such thing as standard sizing and sizes are designed to make the most efficient use of fabric, not to fit an actual body.

There’s always the fact that conspicuous consumption, the concept of disposable clothing is also fairly new. And it’s an entirely different subject. Not so long ago you had a few well made garments that were expected to last for years. When your good dress wore out a bit you kept wearing it but it was downgraded to day dress or house frock. There is a massive environmental issue surrounding disposal of seldom worn garments and the lack of recycling of textiles but again I’m trying to focus here.

I have a range of friends in a range of sizes. And we all struggle to find pants that fit. Many of my self-proclaimed ‘fat’ friends have taught themselves to sew. Something I also do. However even the pattern industry doesn’t go past a size 24. There, it seems, is no winning.

Does Kmart have the right idea? I have no idea. Kmart isn’t a Canadian entity anymore so my first hand experience won’t be happening any time soon. Does my decision to try to shop in size inclusive establishments make a difference? I hope so, but so many of those continue to only cater to the larger size market via online, so I can’t shop with these friends. Does size designation really making shopping easier or does it just isolate us by labeling us in a negative way?

Am I really going to go out and ask if a shop carries ‘fabulous’ sizes? Or am I just going to ask; why can’t we just say size and get on with it?

hardly surprising - not really a post

Shocking to almost no consumer, it turns out consumers don't really want to sell marketers their info. Well, more correctly, consumers don't feel the love.

In a less scientific study, being my wallet. I put all the points/loyalty cards I have on one side and moved over the ones I've used recently to the other. And really I've only moved about 3. One of which didn't get me any deals, points to redeem or preferred whatevers.  

the grinch who sold christmas

I recently wondered why the heck pimento was so popular in the 50’s and 60’s and a friend’s mother was kind enough to explain that really, it was so nice to have some colour to add to dishes. Remembering, of course, that it’s not that long ago that produce was bought when it was in season and then offered canned or frozen for the rest of the year - well you could buy something called a tomato out of season, but mostly it was a knotty, green, tasteless round thing that was called a ‘tomato’.

Fast forward to about a month ago. Back to school promotions started showing up at my local grocery and drugstore chains (incidentally owned by the same company now). Being neither a child or a parent I was still shocked. Sort of. I did a quick calculation. We were about 8 weeks out from the start of school. Back in my retail days you calculated about a 6 week start to the next big ‘holiday’ event so this sort of made sense. On the proverbial other hand, what kid wants to be reminded of school when vacation is only half way through!

While ranting about this on social media someone pointed out to me that Costco had Christmas out at that time too. Calculating again I pointed out that technically Costco is a wholesaler catering to retailers, so having Christmas gear out in July sort of made sense. Yes it seemed out of place, but for all those who remember the annoying reminder of the ‘Days until Christmas’ sign along the Don Valley Parkway in Toronto all those years; Christmas was always coming.

‘Life moves pretty fast’ and in a consumer driven market, the chase is always on to the next season. But start backing it up, to buyers, manufacturers, designers, colour specialists and really, they’re working in terms of 3 to 4 years ahead, so your 6 to 8 weeks is just the final piece of a very long chain that leads to you picking out that particular tomato red sweater for your bestie this Christmas.

At this point I’m pretty stoked that I managed to work a partial Ferris Bueller quote into a post. I also spent some time trying to track down an image of the old Days to Christmas sign on the DVP and fell into a vortex of old Eaton’s catalogue images and only just came back up for air.

Consumerism requires that we shop when the goods are available, but they’ve also taught us there’s a very slim yet attractive period of the end of season sale and the then not for the faint of heart end of season clearance. But if you leave it too long you’re just plain out of luck. Take it from me - the year my coat zipper busted in February was the year I learned to layer. Now like a good Canadian I didn’t have just one winter coat, but still. And I do know how to sew, so if I was really stuck. Okay, my point was, it’s tough finding a winter coat in February because we’re already into prime spring selling and we don’t wear winter coats in spring. Except maybe in most parts of Canada. Because, after all, all this is based on some sort of completely idealized image of season’s and needs. Now back to the catalogues. Which if they are to be believed - that Christmas of 1908 was one dark holiday.

This is not yer traditional red jolly Santa now is it?

I can't find a single image of the old Countdown to Christmas Sign on the DVP, but the bra page of old catalogues, no problem.

your lipservice is chapping

I’d like to think of myself as a sort of consumer advocate but for now I’m my own primary customer save the occasional friend.  And generally I get some sort of resolution.  My own experience has been that stating the issue clearly, without accusation, using dates and whatever back up is available helps get things done.  Generally I get either my money back or some sort of agreed upon restitution to the issue. 

But there are two kinds of companies who drive me a little wonky.  Those who do not offer any sort of customer assistance and those who say they do, but really are the first.  I’m currently stuck in the middle of two companies with a combined offer that are doing both.  

Back in May I signed up for a limited offer TopBox deal that included a subscription to a Rogers owned magazine – LouLou.  The transaction included an opt-out option, which I decided to forgo, but no other steps to sign up necessary – to the best of my recollection.  I’ll fully admit that I’m not 100% certain there was more required, but arguably they had my address for the makeup box delivery and I’d paid in full via credit card for the promotion.  After that, I forgot about it for awhile.  I mean all magazine subscriptions say they take 6 to 8 weeks to start.  But by September my subscription was still noticeably absent, so I started down the follow up road.  As it stands today, we’re at an impasse.

 

Yes, I was a little cantankerous on Twitter.

It started with an e-mail to TopBox directly; got a polite but not terribly useful reply.  I tried LouLou, and got the same.  And now we were playing the ‘it’s not me, it’s them’ game.  So I took to Twitter.  And got more lip service.  As it stands after almost a month since this started, I have heard from neither company and have no resolution, and still no subscription.  I did however get a promotional e-mail to join TopBox; and as you might imagine, I’m not so keen to do this.  

Sure there’s always the good ol’ ‘buyer beware’ caveat.  And yes, I’m no fan of Rogers already, but now I have to put TopBox on a ‘not sure I want to do business with you’ list because of a $10* transaction, and apparently, I’m going to write a blog post about it.  Sure you looked for a second like you were doing something on Twitter, but in the end you didn’t, did you.

And because human nature inherently does not reward the good guy, I will relay the story of excellent customer service.  

As I’ve written before I’ve signed up a makeup sampling program, Ipsy.  For about $15 a month you get a package of ‘goodies’ every month.  So every month about the end of the second week of the month I get a bright pink bubble wrap envelope in my mail box with said goodies.   But not this month.  In spite of routing notices from the two postal systems handling this package, there was no delivery (to my house).  Contacted the company, we went back and forth a few times, with a suggestion I give it a couple more days, but when 4 days later there was no package, I got a ‘no problem, we’ll  get you a new one, sorry for the inconvenience’ e-mail and 4 days later a tracking code.  The following week a new package arrived with most of the goodies I was supposed to get, with one acceptable substitution.  No lip service, just service and a resolution. 

 

This month, this particular sight was missing.  Until it wasn't.

Fortunately I did get some lip balm in a recent Ipsy bag to relieve all the chapping caused by TopBox.

I write about these things in large part because I feel that the key to continued success is great customer service, no matter what your company is, or its size.  Sure some companies and some products can’t always be replaced or fixed, but there are ways to work with your customers to ensure that they feel as if you’ve heard them and you are trying to come up with a resolution.  If I’ve entered in a purchase agreement that is final sale or that clearly spells out that there are no returns/refunds then I take my chances.  If this is not the case what is the harm in trying to service your customer base, because as the old shampoo commercial goes, I told two friends…

* The approximate value of the subscription portion of the offer.

what is the target?

I remember the exact moment I decided I was OK with paying more.  Prices at Payless had slowly crept up.  $29.99 became $34.99, until eventually it became $44.99.  It was the same day I found a pair of Alfred Sung heels on sale for $46.99.  Sure they’re a licensed line meant exactly for me, a mall shopper willing to pay up to $100 for a pair of shoes, but more likely to purchase them if they’re under $50.  And suddenly the smell of pleather and glue had lost its luster.  If you’re wondering how I could be talking about prices increasing at Payless, remember the all encompassing raison d’etre, ‘because Canada.’ 

After years of anticipation, Payless had finally made a run at the border.  Our, now seemingly innocent, dreams of having fun, inexpensive, trendy shoes was about to be realized.  Remember this is before Winners, the Canadian version of TJ Maxx had really impacted the market.  Department stores were slowly dying off and H&M wasn’t even a thought.  We loved it.  In fact I still have some of those early purchases.  The quality was OK, not practically paper and prone to dry rot, as it would later become; and picking up a fun pair of shoes you knew would only last a season for under $30 was acceptable.

Fast forward through the Americanization of the local mall, to Target; another destination Canadians make an effort to visit when we’re in the ol’ US of A.  A wide variety of offerings of the low level mixed merchandise retailer, but I personally love to see what they might offer in fun accessories and make up we can’t get here at home.  Coupled with the closing of Zellers, the Canadian version of Wal-mart before, and for awhile, after, we had Wal-mart, and it seemed like the opportunity was golden. 

Before I start sounding off on what I think went wrong, and what I read went wrong, let me be clear that I am not really in this type of store’s target audience.  First and foremost because they lack urban locations, and short of the rare occasion, such as moving, I don’t really need enough of this type of merchandise to merit what is generally about a 90 minute round trip on the bus to visit these stores.  I rarely go to Wal-mart.  I hadn’t been in Zeller’s for years, and once Joe Fresh started selling what I tried to find inexpensively, i.e. pajama’s and workout gear, I really never went back.  I buy my vitamins at the drugstore and my cleaning stuffs at the grocery store, and I can’t think of any other items I might need a mixed merchandise merchant. 

But Target.  A friend and I went to a soft opening.  And it wasn’t great. 

Yes, the expectation was that the store would not be at full capacity.  That ‘things’ needed to be worked out, but racks and racks were empty.  Very little variation in both stock offerings and floor layout from Zeller’s, the former occupant.  And the worst bits, pricing not all that competitive when compared to other Canadian retailers and no online shopping. 

They claimed they were just starting out.  They hadn’t figure out inventory supply chains.  They were ironing out the wrinkles.  It would get better.

That was more than a year ago.

We’ve all seen the news.  ‘Lower success and financials than expected’. ‘Did not go a hoped’.  ‘Net losses overall, because Canada’.  And yet the issues of areas of the stores still without stock, another big one, the lack of items available in the US, not brought into Canada, for reasons unknown and not explained, the pricing still not competitive and still no online shopping.

Incidentally, while away recently in the US I was able to find both an urban Target, City Target, as well as preview my potential purchases, wait for it, online.  

The City Target on State Street in Chicago - where I mostly went to use the bathroom, and to go through THAT doorway.

Does Target have a chance in our home and native land?  Probably.  There’s a lot of money to invest and a lot of money already spent to pull up the stakes and admit defeat.  But attention needs to be paid to the consumer and their expectations.  Which, arguably, are now lowered, so how hard can it be to correct this misstep?  First off, if your main competition is Wal-mart, and you aren’t going to try to beat them on price, then you better offer something better, of more quality, or not available elsewhere.  

And if they want me as a customer?  Well City Target is a good step.  And so is online shopping.