Bruce Baker, noted speaker and writer on the business of selling art and craft, has plenty to say about the retail shopping experience.
He says it's not really about the stuff, or the price, or anything else. The retail shopping experience about just that--the experience. And any seller--retailer, craftsperson, artist--who doesn't get that is doomed to failure.
What does that look like?
Okay, the story:
I'm with friends and we are shopping along a strip of stores in Baltimore, very funky area, great restaurants, a mix of antique stores, vintage stores, home stores, and fine handcraft stores. We are all three in high spirits.
We go into Mina's, a secondhand clothing store. The woman at the counter is about my age, not bubbly but friendly, open, helpful but not pushy.
Soon we're trying on clothes like nobody's business. Customers are helping each other reach zippers, offering opinions on what works and what doesn't. We're pointing out cowboy boots and great evening dresses to each other.
I end up buying over a hundred dollars worth of stuff, my friend makes some small purchases (and she is in major life downsizing mode, so even small purchases are "huge"). It's buy, buy, buy.
A young woman comes in who wants to sell her work at the store & is asking how to do that. The owner is knee deep in customers at the counter, and I wait for her to blow. But she patiently gives the woman the info (quickly) in a straightforward way and moves her on.
I was amazed she kept her cool and didn't vent, even though she would have been justified. The mood of the store is, it's just comfortable and everyone is happy to be there.
Next we go into a fine handcrafts store that actually contacted me about my work a few years ago. I followed up but never heard back from them, so I was curious what their deal was.
We go in & it's one of those really crowded, mixed bag stores, but soon my friend and I are recognizing artists we both know. W are talking up a storm, touching things, picking them up, pointing out cool things to each other. We three are the only customers in the store.
I notice the music playing and ask the owner working behind the counter (who barely greeted us when we came in) who it is. She says the name and looks at me. I say it's nice and she goes back to work without saying anything else. I think it might be nice to buy the CD to remind me of how much fun we've had today.
We continue ooohing and ahhhing over the work, talking about the artists. I start a pile to purchase, picking up a few things and setting them on the counter. I need gifts to take back for Doug's birthday, odds & ends.
We go to the back room and exclaim over some high-end work. I find myself very drawn to a piece that's hundred of dollars, but can't quite justify the purchase (devil on my shoulder.)
After a long time in the back room (where everything is very expensive but beautiful and intriguing) we head back out to the front room. We are talking about the pieces that have moved us. The owner says nothing.
I continue adding to the pile, and it's getting pretty big.
My other friend picks up a small enameled box and looks at it. I realize I could get him one as a thank you gift for putting me up in their home and ask if he likes it. He says, "I'm not sure." I tell him I'd love to get it for him as a thank you present but he decides he doesn't really like it.
I look at the back of the box, recognize the artist as one I was next to one year at a show one year who was extremely shitty to me. I exclaim jokingly, "Oh, I'm not buying that for you--I know the artist and I hate her!"
At this point the owner (who has ignored us totally the entire time) looks at me and says, "That's a terrible thing to say about someone. Hate is a powerful word."
I'm embarrassed--maybe I WAS being rude--and I laugh and say, "Okay, I don't hate her, I hat her" which is a family joke about the notes the kids used to write to us ("I hat you") and she says, "It's still a terrible word. That's a very negative word."
I'm totally embarrassed now but also very hurt. I say, "She's a very nice woman but also annoying" and she says, "It's a very bad word."
At this point I take everything I've placed on the sales counter and start putting it back on the shelves. The woman says nothing.
One friend has walked out by this time. I follow him and my other friend comes out a moment later.
Turns out as my second friend was walking out, the woman called out to her, "Peace!" My friend looks at her, and the woman says, "Have a good life! Peace."
My friend told me later that the store is going out of business. And shared another private story that at least indicated the incident wasn't about me.
She also pointed out that in the first store, which wasn't really about fine American handcraft or any aesthetic we are especially passionate about, it was buy, buy, buy. And in the second store, which IS about people/artists/aesthetics we care deeply about, with beautiful work by our favorite artists and whimisical gifts I wanted to buy for people I love, it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to buy.
That woman probably whines that people just don't care about fine contemporary American craft anymore.
It was the Bruce Baker poster child story about the retail experience, and I wanted to share it with you. I've been thinking about it ever since.
