SHOPPING--DREAMING OF THE PAST AND LIVING IN THE PRESENT

Shopping used to be more fun and predictable. It was an outing; an adventure. People would stroll and browse, often stumbling over unanticipated finds and usually finding the items that were the original shopping goal. Now, too many things are only available online. Prices are going up frequently so that there isn’t an easy way to predict the ideal time to buy. And it’s not fun to shop on line—it hurts my shoulder and pisses me off.

But, in a land long ago and far away, there were so many wonderful department stores. Several were founded in the 1800s—Strawbridge and Clothier, John Wanamaker, Gimbels. When I was young, my mother used to take me and my siblings to shop at those stores, often in the grand Center City Philadelphia branches. They were real events—special outings. I remember going to Wanamaker’s before school started. One year, my mother bought me penny loafers. I wanted to hide my feet, feeling like I looked like I should be going to work at the stock exchange rather than being the junior high student that I was at the time.

Until I was almost 5, we lived in South Philadelphia. My mother would take me on the trolley, dressed up, including white gloves (“A lady always wears gloves.”) to get my curly hair cut at Gimbels. Frequently, after we’d moved to Levittown, we’d go into Center City to shop in Wanamaker’s, stopping first at Chock Full o' Nuts for lunch. My mother would order a nutted cream cheese sandwich, and I would have a hot dog. I loved to watch the servers take a paper doily and scoop mustard into it with a wooden spoon. 

As I grew up, the experience expanded. When I was about 13, my friends and I would get on a train for a downtown adventure. We’d shop and go to the movies. On one trip, my mother entrusted me with her Wanamaker’s credit card. I bought a ski jacket. It was a beautiful blue/black pattern. Unisex and warm. When I outgrew it, Robbie, across the street, wore it. After he outgrew it, it came back to us so that my sister could wear it. Then back across the street for Cindy. Home to us again for my brother. And finally, across the street one last time for Terry. I don’t know what happened to it after Terry had it, but things were made so well back then that they lasted.

As I got older, not only did I have the shopping experience, but I also had summer jobs working at department stores. First Wanamaker’s. My parents had a friend who rode the train into town with Wanamaker’s HR director. He got me a summer job there just before college. When I went for my interview, the first thing that Mrs. HR asked was whether I’d gone to my prom. I hadn’t. She smiled and said that it was okay—she hadn’t gone either. What a lovely intro to working retail. That summer was full of little adventures. I was a “contingent”, meaning that they put me in different departments depending on need. Candy—that was great. They let the candy counter staff eat all that they wanted. A voracious candy eater, I didn’t eat any—after about an hour, the sweet chocolate smell made me nauseous. Hardware. I wasn’t so good at that. But there were other staff in the department, so I wasn’t alone. Though one day at lunchtime, I was alone. A man approached me and asked for something—I don’t remember what. I tried to help, but couldn’t figure it out. He smiled at me and said “You don’t know what you’re doing, but you look awfully cute doing it.” People were generally nicer then.

After all of those years shopping and working retail, I went full circle from childhood haircut to marriage. My mother and I went back to Gimbels again, but this time, no haircut. Instead, we bought my wedding dress.

When Howard and I were dating, we were still in graduate school. On Fridays at lunchtime, I’d take the bus from Temple to Hahnemann, and we’d get sandwiches and Vonnebrook Cookes. We called them that because Howard had eaten the same cookies in Professor Vonnebrook’s class when he was in college. We’d go to Love Park near City Hall, eat lunch, and stroll over to Wanamaker’s. One day, there was a crowd in the main atrium. Hushed, everyone was listening to an elderly lady speaking elegantly. During one of those awful moments of silence when all should have been quiet, Howard forgot himself and said “Who’s the old lady?” We tried to become invisible as we realized that his voice stood out. And the “old lady” was Lillian Gish, there to promote a book about the evolution of her acting career. 

Years later, after we were married, one night when Howard had work to do, I wanted to go shopping for the holidays. Although it was safer then than now, Howard didn’t like me going alone So he enlisted our neighbor, Bob, to be my protector. Bob was even more of a shopper than I was. There was less focus on shopping and more focus on Bob’s pointing out all of the items he saw that he already owned. It was exhausting. Years later, when Cory and Tracy came along, I took them to Wanamaker’s for their birthdays. The store gave kids a half pound of birthday jelly beans. A kinder and sweeter era.

Over time, I was pretty much destined to live equidistant between Strawbridge’s and Wanamaker’s. First in Levittown when the Neshaminy and Oxford Valley malls were built. Wanamaker’s in Oxford Valley; Strawbridge’s in Neshaminy. After I got married, we lived at 9th and Locust—midway between Strawbridge’s in The Gallery and Wanamaker’s at 13th and Market. We moved to Wynnewood, again with Wanamaker’s to the east of us and Strawbridge’s to the west. Until it all fell apart when the stores were taken over by other companies and gradually disappeared totally. How much I miss those old days!

Fast forward to today. Last week my friend left me what sounded like an urgent message. “Call me back as soon as you can. I have a Bloomingdale’s question.” That piqued my interest. What kind of retail problem could be so pressing? The problem—she had bought a pair of earrings a few days earlier, and she just saw that they are now marked down by $200. She had ordered them on line and logically tried calling the online number to ask for a price adjustment. She reached an agent who said that she couldn’t do it. When my friend asked for a supervisor, the representative told her that there was only one supervisor and it could take 15 minutes to reach her. Since the representative didn’t sound too swift, and the possibility of reaching the supervisor was questionable, my friend hung up. 

There are several ways to obtain the price adjustment:

1) I have a separate “Loyalist” number, different from the regular Customer Service number, for people who are part of the store’s Loyalist shopper program. The likelihood was that she would get better service through that line.

2) My friend could simply have called back to the regular Customer Service number where there was a high probability that she would reach a better representative who would understand the logic of making the adjustment.

3) Since the special pricing ended that day, in order not to lose the $200, she could re-order the earrings and return the original ones. I had bought a pair of earrings a few months earlier, and checked my receipt, which cited a 90 day return policy. But beware—return policies can change. At one point, Bloomingdale’s had a 1 year return policy. And I’ve seen changes in return time frame for many retailers. 

I would have either chosen to call back to Customer Service and tried to reach a better rep, or would have called the Loyalist number. My friend chose to re-order and return. Either way, the $200 was better in her pocket.

A few years ago, I had bought a necklace from Bloomingdale’s that had dropped in price significantly about 8 months later. I often stumble on price changes from the gazillions of emails that I receive from innumerable retailers. At the time, I fell under the 1 year return policy. But many retailers note a short time frame for price adjustments. Since I was so far down the pike, but the return policy was in my favor, I was going to return the necklace and re-buy it. But I hesitated and searched for an easier resolution. I have many escalated contacts in many companies. My Bloomingdale’s contact is the best. He understood that I was on solid ground and simply did a price adjustment rather than make me trot back to the store for a return/re-purchase. Same outcome; easier path.

Since the retailers flood me with so many emails advertising special offers, I usually feel that I’m on solid ground with price adjustments. If they’re throwing price changes at me, I might as well catch ithem. Recently, I bought a dress, then received an email with a better promotion the day after the dress arrived in the mail. Sheepishly, I have to admit that the differential was only $4.97. But hey—they courted me. And $5 here and $8 there add up. I called and got my adjustment with no push back. It took me 3 minutes. I do have a "5 minute rule” for small adjustments—if it takes more than 5 minutes, don’t bother.

If I wanted to take the time to add it all up—which I don’t—I know that I’d see very significant savings just by being attentive to the pricing information that comes my way. If it’s out there for all to see, we have every right to act on it.

 PRICING IS A MYSTERY TO ME. BUT KEEPING ON TOP OF PRICE CHANGES CAN LEAD TO MORE MONEY IN YOUR POCKET. AND IT’S OFTEN A BENEFIT TO THE SELLER, SINCE YOU’LL HAVE MORE MONEY TO SPEND ON THEIR PRODUCTS.

BUT DAMN! IT WOULD ALL HAVE BEEN SO MUCH EASIER AND MORE FUN LONG AGO!