I don’t know anything about merchandising
but when you have a multi outlet chain, it stands to reason that different things will sell better in different areas, the success of shop layout may vary – bigger works better in an area of socially mobile glamour , smaller where there is a stable population, more to do with what you can afford than impressing the neighbours. Some boom with automation, some prefer to have at least a few humans so you can buy 2 items, change one, discuss a problem – why this is still out of stock after three weeks, etc. – it’s the personal touch.
And I am convinced, of course I am, that the personal is what makes the difference – through the staff to the customers and out of the door – to bring them back again.
Since 18 July when my local Waitrose closed, reopening 18 September – I have had to deal with Etsy goofs,
systems with more knots than a sea scout manual, and the NHS , accessing a new letter from whom yesterday took 20 sweaty minutes. I tried buying a sweater from H&M yesterday, to be charged five times over, couldn’t clear it, threw the whole thing out, swore and started again. It’s only easier when it’s easier.
Mostly it makes you long for the transaction that took place in the dry cleaning and tailoring outlet this morning – enter, go behind curtain to change into garment to be altered, pinned into place,
given receipt, agree date for collection, have a nice day. Apart from being one bus ride away and much closer than any other branch, MLW (My Local Waitrose) has got its size and its esprit de corps off to an art form. It works for us, it works for them , they work for us.
Every name that follows is fake, everything else is real. Winifred embraced me at the door – she makes me think of the women of whom Nelson Mandela said “When you strike them, you have struck the rock.” I went to find Matthew the manager who had promised me that everyone who wanted to come back, could – to offer congratulations. Enzo kissed me on both cheeks. Miranda who calls me Miss Anna hugged me – “how lovely to see you” we kept saying to each other – and it was she who told me “Oh we quite enjoyed where we were – you know, a change and all that – but we missed the customers !”
Panan, whom I first met as a boy and shared books with, a dazzler, greeted me and reappeared five minutes later with flowers. Of course I know it’s the company that pays – it’s also the company that thinks. Slava and I shared not a word, just a long meaningful embrace. She is still a long way from home …
There was a young man playing old folk rock on a guitar, glasses of wine, happy excited voices, some new people but a lot of what you might call shopping familiars – people you see there day in, day out, week after week, the people who ask after you when they notice they haven’t seen you for a bit. As the staff noticed when I was taken ill – that was moving. They see so many people. And then up came Rosie who when I last saw her, had to have dental work done and was very nervous about it – all done now. And when I said what a welcome, she grinned and said “Well for you it comes at a price – we want you to give us a good write up”.
It is a wonderful thing to feel that you can have all the items you always want, as well as new lines: that the frozen stuff has been tucked into newly efficient self effacing wall cabinets, priority still given to fresh fruit and vegetables (one of the very few places that sell cooking apples – and no not for pies : for stewed apple which I now sweeten with marmalade instead of sugar.)
I wish you could teach more people that if you don’t give, you can’t get back. It doesn’t follow that because you’re nice, everybody is nice to you. But it is a position of strength. Think of the niceness diffused out into the atmosphere. Social investment, never wasted. And you can only afford nice in a big set up like MLW, if the way the thing runs is more of less correctly positioned and you can go from there. In other words, the professional makes possible the personal.
Annalog 