One Touch Chuck was a manufacturer that my sister represented many moons ago, when she had a showroom at the World Trade Center in Dallas. (yes, my sister is a big deal)
Chuck would help us set up the showroom before shows, and very often, I could see his head shaking and his eyes rolling as he watched us move things hither and yon. We'd pick up Item A to make room for Item B. Item A would get carried to another part of the space, in attempt to get it out of the way. Then we'd shove Item A aside to get it out of the way for Item C. Item A would get a full tour of the showroom before it was all said and done, and by the time we touched Item A for what was probably the 29th time, Chuck would almost go into convulsions. The man stood well over 6' and I knew the fall would be hard if he ever fell over from frustration.
Chuck's advise? "Never touch anything more than once."
I am here to tell you, it's not an easy lesson, but it is a good one.
This weekend, while moving The Primitique out of Quinlan, I thought of Chuck. I looked at merchandise and wondered, "How many times have I touched that?"
One touch. You people in the business will know what I mean here. You know. You buy something great. You clean it, glue it, fix it, spit shine it, whatever. You slap a price on it and you watch with mad anticipation as shoppers eyeball the fantastic piece that you got just for them. They buy it and walk away with your good taste. You have the satisfaction of feeling smart enough to know that it was perfect for your customers. That's the ideal scenario.
The not so good scenario is the one where you buy it, spit on it, price it, throw it out there for the masses and they see it. They touch it. They consider it. They put it back somewhere nowhere near where they got it from. You know what I'm talking about. Then you touch it, dust it off and move it to another location. It's seen and touched by others, but still no takers. Maybe you touch it again, mark it down and place it somewhere different. By the time you move that item somewhere else, the spirit of Chuck is rolling over in his grave. (he's still alive, but you know what I mean)
David and my "big deal" sister made magic happen this weekend. After packing everything into the Bulldog trailer, we took it to Our Turn (David's and my land). We took an empty old storage building and we transformed it. The Primitique is now in its very own home, on the land of our future home.
The philosophy? Touch it once. I intend to, one time, place goodness next to goodness. All of the goodness will be priced to sell. With no overhead, and no discounts, there will be "real" prices. No games. No big discount day sales (hard to imagine). No wheeling and dealing. The very same price for dealers and non-dealers (seriously). What you see is what you get. I touch it. Customers touch it. Pay for it. Load it. That's the deal. If it's there long, I will touch it again, but it may be to ditch it. So, if you see it and like it, I advise that you touch it all the way out to your car. The idea behind this business is to move it. Quick. Get it? Novel idea? Let's try it out. See what happens.
For goodness sakes, let's make One Touch Chuck proud. Shall we?