Deb: Last week, we were in NYC, our adopted home. For my money, there is nowhere like New York during the holidays. Everything is shiny and festive and larger than life. And that’s just the people.
|Cartier 5th Avenue|
I won’t lie to you, I did some shopping. So filled with the festive spirit was I that I felt buying gifts for others would just be too cliché. So I shopped for me. Just me. All me. Me.
It was glorious. Not just because I had brand new things that were coming home with me to live in my house, but because of my shopping experience.
|Fendi 5th Avenue|
Ahhhh, American service. I have been serviced in the U.S. from coast to coast and it is always a delight! But New York service, are ya kiddin’ me? Crazy great!
Now I know that some people find the “Disney-have-a-magical-day” service to be fake and or tedious at best.
But I say to them ... What? NO! COME ON! You can Disneyfy me, baby. I’ll take that magical day and raise you a “thank you!” Thanks for the greeting and the smile and the help. Fake, you say??? So the fuck what? I am spending my hard-earned money here and I would love it if you gave a damn, so yeah I will have a nice day, you betcha!
What’s that you say? Thanks for shopping with us? You are SO friggin welcome.
Did you find everything you were looking for? Yes, thanks for caring!!!
We hope to see you very soon. You bloody well will!
It is perfect service. American’s have honed it. They greet with a smile and then ... THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE ... until you are even maybe thinking of maybe needing help ... and they appear as if by retail magic.
May I start a fitting room for you? YES, YES YOU CAN! And THANKS.
|Me in New York heaven, Barney's bag in hand|
Then they reach into your laden arms, take your possible purchases and hang them up.
I start to tear up at the very thought of it. “Thank you, Becca, my arms were starting to hurt and then you came––at just the perfect time!
And how did I know her name was Becca?? Because she introduced herself, that’s why! What a concept. The woman gave me her name like I was a friend or a dinner guest.
Are they there to take your money? You bet. But they and their employers have got a grasp on the otherwise precarious notion that being in a service industry means service.
And did my service end after the exchange of currency? No, no it did not. I made my purchase at Barney’s and my associate, Taj, wanted to make sure that I knew that I could also wear my new skirt as a top (don’t ask) and proceeded to walk me over to the mannequin to show me. Why? Because he gives a damn. Fake? I don’t think so. But even if it is, WHO CARES? And yeah, okay he was gay so of course he cared. I promised to send him a photo.
I think that the first lady of fashion, Lady Liberty, said it best when she stated:
Give me your shoppers, the rich and the poor,
Your hurried masses who search for size four.
Send me the Homesense, their quest I’ve seen before
I lift your lamp to your car, as you walk out the door.
Barbara: I don’t get to shop a lot in the States, but I have to say that I’ve noticed this very thing. It’s beautiful.
Service me, baby, and I’m all yours.
|Window at Bergdorf's|