Stories…this dang bra shop is full of them.
Please Send Pictures
A woman came in to get a gift for her 82-year-old mother. She was thinking of a cotton nightgown – which truly is a great gift for your 82-year-old mother, but changed her mind when she saw the robes with champagne glasses on them. “I’m actually going to take two of THESE,” she said, “…My mother lives with her 87-year-old sister and I can just see the two of them having their daily cocktail wearing these robes. …They will love these.” One gift made even better by checking it twice. Perfect. We really do want to see a picture. Cheers!
Size, Size, Everywhere a Size
The JOY Holiday Sleepwear Analysis: It’s been a small year. If it’s a small, you can bet we’re sold out of it. Mediums…now mediums are funny. Many shoppers revert to a medium when they’re not quite sure. When we do our buying at the trade shows, we go a little heavier on the mediums. Mediums sell well. Except in this spa robe we brought in this year. You know, the kind of robes that you lounge around in at the spa or look for when you get out of the hot tub? Those. They’ve been a great seller in every size except medium – weird! As for large…well…women buy themselves “large” even when they aren’t large. This balances out the reluctance of some gift-givers to purchase a “large” as a gift. We do OK with large. Large tends to take care of itself. Then there is Extra Large. I guess we overdid it with extra large this year. We have a lot of extra large left over…if you’re shopping for an extra large next week, you are in serious luck!
Our Circus, Our Monkeys
Three hilarious girlfriends came in for matching pajamas. Upon seeing the flannel PJ sets with a circus print on them, they looked no further. Have you heard that saying, Not my circus, not my monkeys? It’s an old Polish proverb that means in short that you can’t fix everything – especially if there is a problem that is not your doing. From the sounds of it, these three women have bonded over a “Not my circus, not my monkeys” way of thinking. Seems like a great way to live. Thanks for the reminder, ladies.
Ring up the Foxes!
“I’m on a mission. Where are those fox underwear on instagram? I need three pairs.” (Side note…did you know that a female fox is called a vixen?)
I Still Want to Look at Her
We’re open until 6 on Fridays and sure as shootin’, there’s someone two-wheeling it into the parking lot who somewhere along the Thruway heading north realized they forgot their underwear. Such was the case of a certain gentleman’s wife this past Friday. This gentleman rose to the task of dashing into the shop to get her some underwear. “Just basic,” he said, “She specifically said ‘Just basic.'” Julie showed him a few “just basic” underwear including some “just basic” granny panties. “I still want to look at her,” he said. It was late in the day. We found it very funny.
Some Policies Were Made to be Broken
I don’t mean to brag…OK, maybe I do…but we do some excellent gift wrapping here at JOY. Today, we had a first. A father and daughter walked INTO the shop with a box all adorned with one of our glorious wrap jobs. We’re used to seeing gifts walking OUT OF the shop, but not IN TO the shop…hmm. Evidently, Santa had incorrectly deduced which exact thong the well-behaved woman had written on her list. …Panties are not returnable at JOY. It’s a store policy and it’s written right on our receipts… Unless of course, it’s still in the gift wrap we wrapped it in just a couple days prior. Talk about a Yankee Swap. Julie was able to swap out the old and switch in the new and use the same wrap. Phew. Christmas crisis averted. She’ll never know. It’s kind of a funny story though. They just might want to tell her.
Last Call
Determining what time to close on Christmas Eve is tricky. Even those of us who really love working retail don’t want to work too late, and lucky for us Manchester isn’t really that kind of town anyway. We’ve been giving people a loose and non-committal “as early as 3 and as late as 4:30” response to anyone who asked us what time we’d be open ’til today. I sent the staff home at 3 and figured I’d stay another hour or so and ride out the last-minute shoppers. I expected men, and alas, a couple of them strolled in. One of them was super psyched to snatch the very last fox thong. (…he didn’t know that the female name for fox was vixen either) Another bought a gift certificate for his wife with the distinct instructions to me, “Don’t let her buy flannel.”
Two women came in in the final hour. Both so beautiful. One was maybe a little younger than me and walked right up to a red bra and panty set and brought it to the counter before I could even ask her if she needed any help. Another was an older woman with a twinkle in her eye who wanted a new post-mastectomy breast form. The one she had wasn’t quite the right size. She felt uneven. There was going to be 16 for dinner and she just didn’t feel quite right. She was so glad the shop was open.
I went to the back and brought her a couple choices. She found one that worked and said she felt a lot better. “Merry Christmas,” I told her. And then we both started crying.
And with that, I think it’s time to go home.
Thank you, universe.
Joy
