Lessons in customer service from a night at the opera
Marshall Roy — October 9, 2008 @ 11:15 am
Customer service is a state of mind. Let me explain:
I’ve been a New Yorker for six weeks, exactly as long as I’ve been on the Bonobos team. But it took me over a month to find an apartment (I played “musical couches” in the meantime), so even though I’ve settled into certain very New York behaviors—jaywalking with impunity, etc.—I’m still more or less unpacking. I’m still, more or less, a total newbie.
So, last week, when my dearest friend in the whole world (and a beacon of style in her own right) asked if I would accompany her to La Gioconda at the Metropolitan Opera in 48 hours, my mind began to race faster and louder than the cabs shooting up
Eventually it became clear to me that even if I managed to unpack and organize my closet in time, I would come up short. I’m not in college anymore. Jeans and a hoodie can no longer be my go-to look, the outfit du jour. (Nor should it be for anyone whose daily schedule doesn’t include a round of ultimate frisbee in the quad or a kegger in the dorms.) That awkward, rumpled, I’m-swimming-in-my-button-down-and-this-tie-used-to-be-my-dad’s approach to formal wear would be, thenceforth, unacceptable. It was time to up my game.
I marched into Bonobos HQ the next day (T-minus 36 hours from my debut at the Met), approached Brian Spaly at his desk, and asked him for help. He’s awesome at putting together a look and often helps the team (and our customers) rock their bonobos as hard as they can. “Invest in a few versatile staples,” he advised—like dark brown loafers and a navy blazer. Look for a good value but don’t skimp on quality. For the most part, labels are unimportant. How much you pay for an item takes a backseat to the fit–you will always look good in clothes that fit, regardless of “who” you are wearing, so let that be your guide. For the Met, he told me not to feel obligated to wear a jacket and tie–a clean and elegant dress shirt or sweater would be fine. It may have a black-tie reputation, but the opera is meant, fundamentally, to be entertainment. Comfort’s got to play a role in the theatergoer’s attire (not to mention that La Gioconda is four hours long).
Back at my desk, I considered the gorgeous black trousers Kevin Kelleher had just picked up from our manufacturer in the garment district, twenty blocks north of our HQ. Kevin’s a Production and Operations ninja here at Bonobos, a former D1 footballer, and the trousers in question–jet black, with a slender, graceful drape–were named in part after his favorite adjective: savage.
Two realizations came at once: 1) I was over-thinking this opera outfit. Brian was right: I didn’t need to reinvent the wheel, just take a clean look and make sure everything fit well; and 2) I was way overdue in using my employee discount. A look began coming together in my head. I made one of the inaugural purchases of the savage, and later that evening I made two more strategic upgrades to my wardrobe: sleek, side-zip dress boots and a crisp, well-fitted dress shirt white as the leblons. I figured I’d top the outfit off with my pinstripe Banana Republic blazer, take it to the next level with a gray silk pocket square, and off I’d go.
The Bonobos team had other plans.
I arrived at HQ the next day, garment bag slung over my arm and pep in my step, to find a luxurious velvet blazer from Theory draped over my chair. It was Spaly’s, and after a quick try-on to confirm that it fit nicely, he offered to lend it to me for the night. It was all I could do to say thanks without drooling on that gorgeous garment.
As afternoon sidled up to evening, I made the transformation: Jeans into savage. Sneakers into sleek laceless boots. T-shirt into snow-white Calvin Klein poplin. My tired-but-workable blazer into a velvet number that blew it out of the water. The only problem: the ensemble had a new weak link. My pale gray pocket square, while sufficient, lacked that certain Bonobos panache. Kevin Kelleher to the rescue–he snatched a swatch of silk from our cutting table, yellow swirled with ecru and gray. Although previously accustomed to leveling running backs trying to find a breakaway, Kevin deftly folded the silk into a bright crescent that would peek out from the velvety depths of the jacket (Insider’s tip: Look for this same silk to line the g6, a charcoal-hued successor to the g5 reminiscent of the g4!)
I had planned to go without a belt–my bonobos fit like a glove, so I certainly didn’t need one to keep them from falling down, and I liked the idea of showing off our custom-made, Italian nickel hardware. But the guys chimed in, recommending a simple black belt to round out the ensemble. Problem: the only one I had with me was an old, wide thing that lived exclusively in the loops of my favorite broken-in jeans. Our offerings, in Italian tie silk, are beautiful, but not necessarily formal wear. Adam Sidney, indie music connossieur and our Director of Operations, frowned beneath his beard. In a single whip-like motion, he removed his shiny black belt and held it out to me. Best of all, before I could get out a single sentimentalized sentence, Sidney sent me on my way with his own style of encouragement: “Go kick some ass!”
I was dressed more properly and maturely than perhaps ever before in my life, and it changed my outlook on the evening. I noticed a new and exciting strength in my stride and comfort in my conversation. Being thoughtfully dressed, I realized, isn’t about looking fly to stroke your ego. It’s about feeling confident and at ease, freeing you to be attentive to the experiences and individuals that shape your daily (and nightly) experience. In a way (and here I go again, sentimentalizing), working in fashion means we’re in the business of affecting human dignity, and that is a responsibility we cannot take lightly. Which brings me back, finally, to customer service.
As I’ve ruminated on that night at the opera, I’ve concluded that the generosity and enthusiasm I experienced from the whole team would be unlikely to exist for me if I worked at a different company. Turns out, when you commit to making customer satisfaction and service your number one priority, you weave into the fabric of your business model an unequivocal tendency for empathy and helpfulness–and that, for its ability to transcend the buyer/seller dynamic, is something special.
Whether you’re a potential first-time customer or our biggest spender, know that we approach your customer service needs with the mindset that it’s our job to worry about you looking good, not yours. We want you to don your bonobos and venture onward, in pursuit and enjoyment of all the world has to offer.
11 Comments »
RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL
Awesome post, Marshall. Keep ‘em coming! I’d love a line of Bonobos pocket squares…
[Reply]
You and me both–hint hint, Spaly!
[Reply]
I was there, so I can attest; the pants are sexy, but the men who wear them are even sexier.
I’ll tell you one thing about these Bonobos guys: they know what women want
[Reply]
Move over James Bond… Make room for the next 007 with a license to dress to kill.
[Reply]
Looking sharp Marshall. Dig the pocket square.
[Reply]
Ok, it is probably cheesy for me to post on our own blog, but what the hell?
Marshall, this brought a smile to my face and (nearly, at moments) a bit of wetness to the corner of the eye?
This piece might as well be our company manifesto. So very glad to have you on board.
[Reply]
Customer service is either a deal-maker or a deal-breaker. Bonobos knows how to accommodate its style-conscious customers, as exemplified by this spot-on blog-post. Can you tell that hyphens are in?
My boyfriend looks dashing in his mint juleps. And you look so chic in your opera attire.
[Reply]
[...] to live and prosper by that choice. We like stylish clothes. We like sports. We like the performing arts. We like kung-fu [...]
[...] The world is constantly head faking me into learning things about customer service. [...]
[...] also at special openings and galas. As one of your colleagues recently wrote in the Bonobos blog, dressing to impress at the Met is a challenge! On my limited budget I am grateful for any assistance I can get to dress both fashionably and [...]
[...] makes sense. We also like to look our best so that we can feel confident—whether it’s at a business meeting, on a date, or on the soccer field. The important [...]