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FFS: Why is Customer Service Sooooo Much Better for Men Than it is for WOMEN?!

Why is Customer Service for Men So Much Better than Customer Service for WOMEN?

At least once a year my husband and I HAVE to make a visit to the menswear section in MYER. Usually there is an engagement party, wedding or funeral and for whatever reason he needs shoes, or a new shirt because the last one was itchy or his suit pants don’t fit or the jacket has a stain…..whatever….

You can guarantee that within minutes of stepping into the store some helpful salesperson comes swooping up to him to assist. And they do not leave his side. When he tells them he’s after a new outfit he gets his own personal shopper. They whip out a measuring tape and work out what size shirt he needs, they lead him through racks of different suits and wait outside the fitting room to see how it fits and bring him alternatives if they don’t. If any alterations are required? It’s fucking free.

And when he’s found the shirt and the suit they make suggestions for ties that might go with them and ask him if he needs new shoes as well and stay with him throughout THAT entire process. And it’s not just in MYER, if he wanders into Country Road or any menswear store, the service is equally brilliant.

And I have to say to you I’M JEALOUS.

My daughter is getting married next month in Bali and let me tell you, the challenge to figure out what to wear has been the greatest in. my. life.

I’m kind of not your typical mum in the ways that I dress so those “mother of the bride” outfits (?) disgust me. They tend to be like a two-piece suit with sleeves and the skirt is halfway down your calves. Hideous. Plus – it’s in BALI.

I have to be cool. I have to be comfortable. I need to be elegant. When I asked my daughter what she would like me to wear, she said wear whatever you like Mum. Then she added; but it would probably be best if you were in like, a pastel colour so you don’t make me look washed out in the photos. O-kay.

I have been hitting the stores for the last six months to find something that fits the bill. Long-ish, flowing, elegant, not too-booby, not too slutty, pastel. And have gone meh, meh, meh to everything I’ve seen. The shop assistants, if they bother to come up to me don’t listen to any of my requirements and show me multi-coloured, bright, thigh splitting, plunging necklines and then leave me to my own devices in the fitting room before forgetting about me altogether.

Then I started ordering dresses on-line. By the truck-load. Because there’s free returns and free postage. Too small, too big, too gaping, nothing like the photo, badly constructed. Most of them went back except for a long silver one (now deemed by my daughter as too “mum-like”) and a long pink one which is just kinda OK but not The One. I also stupidly purchased one from Forever New that is too low-cut and too tight that I know I’ll be uncomfortable in all day.

This brings me to MYER. In the city. Massive store FULL of every dress under the rainbow but where the hell do you even start? There are multiple floors of dresses but do you think there is one damn sales assistant that gave a shit about me in there? The few that I could find would only show me things out of their own section, did NOT follow me to the fitting room and the only way to get a complete personal shopping experience is to book in and PAY for it.

And being 5’3″ nearly every dress I buy has to be taken up. And that means taking it to a private tailor and paying almost as much as the dress for that.

I have three weeks before the wedding and I STILL don’t have The One.

And this whole process screams to me: sexist, unfair, bullshit.


Carolyn Murphy

Carolyn Murphy

Carolyn Murphy is a married mother of three and regularly provides us with recipes and strange but true stories about her life. When she’s not here, she can also be found on her website where all her other recipes are located!

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