A text from my friend caught me completely by surprise. I wasn’t prepared for the news because, quite frankly, it had been years since I walked into one of these stores: The Limited is closing. I felt a weird combination of sadness, melancholy and guilt. Guilt, because I stopped shopping there years ago. Maybe if I spent my clothing dollars there instead of at Saks, I could have saved the store? (Yes, I have delusions about my own power.) The Limited had been my employer for many years, and now it was closing.
I started working there as a junior in high school. It was not my first job, but it was the first one that required me to dress appropriately, show up on time and learn the quirks of working in customer service. To this day, memories from the job prevent me from shopping the day after Thanksgiving or Christmas. Never have, never will.
As a 16-year-old, I spent most of my time behind the cash register or in the stock room steaming clothes, where no harm could really be done to the fragile egos of women trying on clothes. I watched and learned how to tell someone they looked awful in something without actually saying it. I learned that nearly every woman hated some part of her body. That husbands and boyfriends have no idea what size their significant other is but will look at you and claim ‘she is about your size.’ Returns were fun when you would see the carefully selected outfits come back, in your size, handed to you by women 20 pounds lighter or heavier than you. During my time in retail, I also came up with a few rules, if you will, that make shopping easier for both you and the person who waits on you.
No one judges you by the size you wear, so just tell the truth. As a salesperson, I just aimed to get customers something that fit. I didn’t care if they were a size six before kids but a size 12 now. I get it: bodies change. Let me get you the right size the first time so you aren’t bummed about trying to squeeze your body into something that doesn’t fit. And no, the other salespeople and I are not talking about your size; we are talking about people who were rude to us.
Don’t be rude. I feel like I can say this since one of my New Year’s resolutions is to ‘be nice,’ but I was often stunned by the way people talked to me. Yes, I was there to wait on them but a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ go a long way, especially if you want me to check four other stores for an item we didn’t have. (Because I could certainly pretend to call just as easily as actually call. Not that I ever did that, or anyone would.)
Yes, I am required to ask you to open a credit card. Maybe I can’t interest you in a pair of socks or earrings to go with your outfit, but we are having a contest I want to win, so I am going to ask anyway. And as far as the credit card is concerned, if I don’t ask, I will hear about it, so please just let me get the words out. You can always say no.
I am going to miss The Limited. It was my first real job, and I guess like your first real love, you never quite forget it. In the back of my mind, I always thought I could go back and work there if I wanted to. Sadly, no.
Contact Patty Hannum at phannum@townandstyle.com.
