Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor(ly) Made

You have a secret. You’ve been carrying it around for quite some time now, and it’s starting to really get you down. You’ve tried to push it away, but it comes back like a bad penny every time you turn on the TV, walk through the mall, or flip through a magazine. It’s difficult to admit it, but… you just hate your ring.

Now don’t be alarmed that I’ve guessed your innermost thoughts. I’m not psychic — well, not entirely — I just know that look. You’re gazing at some of our beautiful rings, imagining what they’d look like on your finger, and you casually glance at the sentimental, formerly-fashionable piece of misery currently perched where that gorgeous double-halo with split-shank in platinum should be.

You sigh, or frown, or maybe even grimace. What can you possibly do? After all, someone very special gave you that ring. He or she (probably) thought long and hard before that purchase, and it (hopefully) made you very happy at the time. It still holds a wealth of meaning for you, and always will.

But times have changed, and so has your style. And recently someone told you that the shank was wearing quite thin, and the prongs are really not as heavy as they should be. It would be a bit silly to spend money on a fix when a whole new setting isn’t really so much more, wouldn’t it? And the new one would suit your style, and of course make you just as happy as the day you received the first one.

I understand. And I can help.

Give us just a little slice of time, and we can create the ring of your dreams. Rather than a symbol of the early days of your relationship, this ring will celebrate the love that has grown and flourished over time. It will honor your past and pay tribute to your future, and it will make you happy to look down at your finger all over again.

So give me your tired, your poorly made, your ugly jewelry yearning to be new again. It’s time.

**Speaking of a do-over, I spy… a whole new look for Karat Cake! Hope you like the mini-makeover!**

The Business of Business

In my line of work, the face the consumer sees is often very different from the reality behind-the-scenes. The client receives calm and unwavering patience, forever a smile, as much romance as they can stomach, and a general sense that the world is full of beautiful things that they (obviously) should want to buy and give and wear.

And why shouldn’t they? The role of consumer in the luxury market is to enjoy everything — service, gracious transaction, the piece itself, admiration from peers — as a complete package. It’s my job to figure out how to deliver that experience in such a way that will impress and retain that client, but also maintain best business practices that allow equal attention to future clients. As my grandmother used to say, it ain’t worth anything if you give it away.

I will confess that I’m far more a novice of business than I am of creating that customer experience. I have been in some form of sales for many years, but have begun to participate in the business side relatively recently. Thanks in large part to the small business environment and wonderful owners of the store, I have been introduced to the inner workings of this industry and am just as hooked on the finer details of number-crunching and term negotiation as I ever was on closing the sale.

To that end, I’ll be diving head first into analysis and data processing, product and vendor assessment, supplier strategies, and a host of other topics in order to assist in balancing performance in the store. Translation: training in business stuff should lead to better business.

On a personal level, I admit to a little apprehension. This is not only a new field of interest but an entirely new facet of the industry, and I’m determined to acquire as much knowledge for practical application as I can get my little paws on. Between this, my already personally-driven sales goals, some additional business courses I’m taking outside of work, and the general day-to-day operations already in place, I feel I’m in for an exciting period of growth. Maybe if spring pokes its nose out from whatever hole it’s hibernating in someday soon, I’ll really feel ready to face it all.