From Wynn Fine Jewelry to House of Pain
The high-end jewelry business, like any business where people are involved, is often less about the jewelry and more about the people. You are really in the “people business.” The more I know who my customer is and what motivates him or her, the more successful I will be. This is why for years I would keep a copy of the Forbes Billionaire’s List close at hand and study the faces often. If one of the world’s top 200 billionaires walked into CHANEL Fine Jewelry at the Bellagio or the Wynn Precious Jewelry Salon while I was on the floor, I wanted to know!
Similarly, when I see a 70 something year old businessman, sporting his Rolex Presidential and Italian loafers - with a thin young mini-skirt in her twenties hanging off him, and they enter my store, I knew I was about to earn a big commission. His ego was my guarantee!
But this true story I am about to tell you began in a nearby state, about eighteen months earlier. Life had brought me to a new city and a new employer. To be a bit more specific it was a wealthy suburb of a major city in the western half of the U.S.
I soon found myself working at the Neiman Marcus Precious Jewelry Salon at the very upscale mall down the street.
One day a lady came into the store who I will call Mrs. Smith, for the purposes of this story.
Now most ladies in this town would get all dressed up in their finest for nothing more than a day of local shopping. But on this day, Mrs. Smith was dressed way down. It was the Christmas season, and she was looking a bit frazzled. Like a busy mom who hadn’t made it to the hairdresser in a while.
I had learned early in my career to never prejudge someone. I had seen my coworkers hesitate based on someone’s appearance and lose out on a nice sale. I know because it was I who would step in and reap the rewards of their mistake.
So, while she may not have been looking like one of the “Housewives of Orange County” on this day, I did not hesitate to do what I always did. I stepped forward and greeted (Mrs. Smith) with a big warm welcome and a handshake. She reciprocated and a friendly conversation ensued.
While browsing some gold necklaces and a few other items Mrs. Smith casually mentioned that her daughter had just moved to her first apartment, and she was on her way there now to take her daughter shopping for new furnishings. Mrs. Smith made a small purchase then asked if I could direct her to the Christmas decorations.
As we walked toward that department, I began telling her about the amazing Swarvosky Christmas Ornaments by famous designer Jay Strongwater, that were so popular with Neiman Marcus shoppers.
I enthusiastically informed her that the largest Swarvosky Crystal (octahedron) on the west coast was currently displayed at the top of the main building at the Gemological Institute in Carlsbad Ca., where I went to school. Mrs. Smith proceeded to buy over twenty Swarvosky Crystal Ornaments for her daughter’s Christmas tree, a rather hefty purchase. Even though it was not my department, it was my sale, and I received the commission.
For the next year or so, Mrs. Smith would stop in the store anytime she was in the mall. Often, she would be with her daughter whom I also got to know. I remember her daughter thanking me for encouraging her mother to buy those beautiful Christmas ornaments. By all accounts Mrs. Smith and I had become friends. I learned that she and her husband owned a number of car dealerships in the region. Quite often I would see her husband in TV commercials for their dealerships. While I never met him in person, I knew he was Mrs. Smith’s husband.
Life continued to change and unfold as life does and I eventually found myself back in Las Vegas, working at the Wynn Fine Jewelry Salon. I had quite possibly reached the pinnacle of my career. This was my dream job! I became personal friends with Steve Wynn and his wife Elaine Wynn. Elaine called the Wynn Fine Jewelry store her personal jewelry box. Life was amazing!
One day in 2005 or 2006 I was on the floor at Wynn Fine Jewelry when in walked an older gentleman, with quite a young lady attached to his arm. I instantly recognized him from somewhere, but where? I thought to myself. I began going through my mental rolodex trying to recall. I realized I had never met him in person, yet I knew him. Then it hit me. It was Mrs. Smith’s husband from all those car dealer TV commercials! But wait, that wasn’t Mrs. Smith on his arm, and it certainly was not his daughter - even though she was young enough to be his daughter.
“Well, well, Mr. Car Dealer” I thought to myself, “You are not getting off easy today.” As I knew I would be selling the young lady on his arm the most expensive piece of jewelry his ego and his credit card would allow.
I briefly thought of his wife I had previously got to know…….
I stepped forward and said “welcome!” with a smile.
But inside my head I heard….. “Welcome to Robyn’s torture chamber!”
And yes, I made him pay!
By Robyn Burton
as told to Darryl Kimball