One dress pony, actually. That's the only ace I have up my sleeve when I run out of options with a bride.
My only solution to the same problem leads to one dress. This dilemma is what separates the pros (like Mindy, Alissa and Mary Ann) from the less-polished amateurs such as moi.
Let me explain. Mary Ann, when faced with the challenge of an unproductive appointment, will re-group and go back to the photos that the bride brought with her. She'll then pull several more similar dresses to present to her client.
Alissa, usually confident of her choices for her bride, will often re-try a dress on a bride, knowing that sometimes fresh eyes can see new things. And for Alissa, watching the bride's pleasantly surprised expression in the mirror, she can rest in the success of her strategy once again.
Mindy is able to do what I cannot seem to do when an appointment isn't going anywhere. She is able to get a feeling during the appointment if the bride she is working with will find a dress. She will not go and try to find other dresses; she'll just wrap up the appointment. She doesn't waste time trying to make something happen that obviously isn't going to happen.
Not me. When it seems like my bride-to-be is not connecting with any of the dresses she has tried on, I'll resort to the only plan B I have; the flow-y size 12 ivory/silver gown made by Jaqueline, if she'll fit into it.
You see, at this point, I will have been with this bride for probably two hours now, sweat dripping down my face and frustration on my brow. Any seasoned bridal associate would never allow an appointment get to this point, but since I'm not one, the situation drags on hopelessly.
By now, Mindy and Alissa are usually wondering what's going on with my appointment. No right-minded bridal associate would allow an appointment to continue for this long. But they know better than to check on me because they know that I'll slip out somehow and go into hiding, leaving them with the client.
Eventually though, I'll have a moment of clarity and remember my dress of last resort.
If the shop had this dress in my size, I would wear it everyday. I absolutely adore this dress. Imagine a fluffy skirt made up of layers of white pleated cup cake liners, opened and flipped upside down. Attach a bodice with diagonal tight layers of chiffon and add a string of pearls mixes with crystals and silver embroidery across the chest, and voila! you have the most romantic, whimsical gown in the store.
Whenever a bride adorns this precious gown, wildlife should surround her as she steps out of the dressing room. I wish we could keep some white doves and butterflies in the back so I could release them as the bride leaves the dressing room.
The birds, of course, would be trained to carry a veil that they would softly drop onto her head at just the right moment as the bride approached the mirror in the center of the store.
That fairy tale moment would seal the deal, for sure.
But alas, the owners would never go for it, with the birds flying all around and pooping all over the place.
Back to reality. The real issue here is that the bridal business requires experience and skill, neither of which I have. Sure, as a veteran nurse, I can persuade a resident with advanced dementia to take his pills, get him to put his shoes on, talk him out of leaving a unit. But to get a woman to buy a bridal gown...now that takes a whole lot of tact and refined talent (that I obviously don't have) to accomplish.
Come to think of it, I never make selling a dress my goal when I come to work. I don't really have any goals...I just show up and do as I'm told. That has always been my game plan.
But I'm finding out that God has another plan for me at this little shop...one that involves rehabing my attitude about Christians, friends, my faith and life.
Making me a stellar bridal associate...not so much.
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