Hey Chico-ettes! Anybody Out There?

I've been posting the link to this blog on my Chico's eBay listings and hoping that some of you may take the time to check it out. I'd love to hear from you about all things Chico's. It has been astounding, this mini-test market of mine. Virtually every single Chico's Design I post sells ...and to the nicest people.

So please, tell me WHY you love Chico's. Tell me about your favorite designs. We're all in this together ...or at least it feels that way. Why are you a 'member' of Club Chico's?

:)

Definitely A Chico's Kind of Morning

So this morning I discover an email from one of my buyers. I had been so worried about a button that I knocked off while (badly) ironing the jacket I was getting ready to send. I enclosed a partial refund with a note and hoped fervently that she would forgive my pathetic ironing skills. I offered a full refund too if she was unhappy.

Instead, she sent me this nicest note! It pretty much made my day. She is actually sending my money back. I will immediately invest in a steam cleaner!

'A' totally proved my point. Chico-ettes are the best.

I dare ya --- compare feedback

Last night my Chico's layered skirt sold. So I went to create an invoice for my buyer. Out of curiosity I checked out the feedback left about this buyer. Quelle suprise! (Dramatic irony here) Along with the typical 'great ebayer' there were phrases like 'we had some laughs' ...'pleasant emails...a joy to deal with' and lots of 'please come back!'

Of course, we all love the words: lightning fast payment, too!

But again, I am wondering (market researcher that I am by day) ...in this great sociological experiment, are Chico-ettes on eBay simply nicer? I would really love to hear from Chico's salespeople ...are your customers more lovable than the average bear?

Are we just so grateful to find clothes that actually fit us? That make us feel good about ourselves? That are easy to take care of, incredibly packable, and on eBay, reasonably priced?

I'd love to hear from you!

More eBay ...

Fascinating.

If it's not Chico's, well ... I tried two different items ...one, a really terrific spring-white jacket with lace and these great handpainted buttons ...NADA. Didn't sell. And I tried this fun baby-pink jelly purse that was given away by a big Hollywood studio for one of their premieres. It was brand new and adorable. Again ...NADA.

Yet a Chico's skirt I posted last night was up for about 1 minute when I got an inquiry from another Chico-ette. It's anybody's guess as to if it will sell as the skirt does not photograph well. But it sure drew attention pronto!

As a market researcher, I am intrigued. I will be even more intrigued to see how The Gap handles their new Forth & Towne shops targeting this same psychographic. Chico's has done a great job restoring the confidence The Gap stole away from us!

Chico's on eBay

Every so often I decide to do a Spring Cleaning and then half my closet ends up on eBay. And there's this weirdly wonderful phenomenon --- the people who wind up as High Bidders on my Chico's stuff are 100% terrific. I mean, nicer ...more courteous ...better sense of humor ...than the people who buy my non-Chico's items. Not that the other folks aren't great. But I think we Chico'ettes really are kind of a cult or at least a club. Or maybe I'm just weird.

Hey, has anybody tried going in with a party to Chico's? Rumor has it that if you bring in at least 6 people for a shopping party, you'll get a discount!

My brilliant blue jacket is going fast ....

Ah pity the poor women of France. All they have are slackers like Chanel, Saint Laurent, Givenchy and the like. Whereas we have Chico's. Chico's of the glorious monthly catalog with its equally glorious monthly coupon. Chico's with its Chico's age-appropriate salesclerks who have never been known to flaunt a naked and/or flat midriff. Clerks who nod knowingly when you mention botched C-section scars and lead you to a gaggle of frothy rainbow tops and billowy scarves. Clerks who call you to proclaim triumphantly: The new Travelers are in! with the same level of excitement previously reserved for: I'm engaged; I'm pregnant; I sat next to Dennis Quaid in Biz Class.
We are a cult, an alive and thriving, growing-in-all-respects Cult of Chico's, ready to unashamedly embrace size 3.5, if need be. (After all, what the hell does a size 3 and a half mean anyway? The only place one is forced to translate into 'civilian sizes' is in the HUGE Chico's section on eBay.)

Anybody catch the stock split in February?

It Should Have Been A Chico's Kind of Day ...

I am blogging on from Paris, the Anti-Chico's Capital of France. The City of Lights is a certifiably schizo place. On one hand you are smack dab in the midst of rue after rue of Patisserie, Boulangerie and Fromagerie. Cozy shop windows off St Germain des Pres are decorated with hunks of green speckled cheese and taureau sausage, dangling baguettes, prissy petit-fours in spring colors, and pain au chocolat glistening with buttery crust. You stop. You drool. You press your nose against the glass and gawk. You feel horrendously and hugely American. You watch the hip-parade of French ladies in their stilettos, their furs and their hipless, gut-less torsos strut inside, insinuating themselves in front of a case of marzipan.

Of course, you think to yourself, here comes the lesson! Here comes the slap-in-the-face for every Chico's fan. The secret is that these mademoiselles buy only one perfect morsel and then savor said butter-sugar-drenched gem for hours, if not days. Isn't that what they say? The French stay Audrey-Hepburn slim because they don't wolf down their food? They cherish every calorie?

BS. I watched femme after femme buy up half the Patisserie and gobble it down. The real secret? Other than DNA? Nicotine. They inhale after every bite. Deeply, completely, and then with enormous panache, they whoosh the killer vapor out via precisely painted Chanel'd lips. It must be engraved in the French Constitution-- the right to smoke everywhere and anywhere. No sooner had the pink puff of a tender raspberry tarte touched those proverbial French tastebuds than Mademoiselle replaced les framboises with a glowing Gauloises. I've been choking throughout most of France and it wasn't from the gristly Entrecote with a side bucket of Bearnaise.

Note to Chico-ettes: There are no Chico's in France. From now on, hear-ye, hear ye --all travel plans must be geared to the Chico's-Status of a Country. Chico's-Friendly or Not? I lived in fear during all 13 hours of flight to CDG that Air France would lose my baggage and I would be forced to spend my entire trip searching for a decent pair of wash-in-your-hotel-room-sink pants with elastic waistband. Just to experiment, I have visited a blur of floors at both Galeries Lafayette and Bon Marche. No elastic anywhere, except maybe on the occasional wisp of a soutien-gorge.

Au revoir for now!