Well, why not? Why can’t we have our equivalent Harry Potter hero? Readers of the Murdoch press may have seen a short piece that revealed Harry Potter’s best spells.
These become operational when Harry points his wand and calls out the spell.
Harry Schmotter can do the same – except that his wand is a tightly furled Myer order in quadruplicate with 14 signatures on it. Here are our Harry’s best six spells.
Stockus Vanishum! Currently the most valued spell because, when correctly pointed, stock disappears and bank balances increase by the equivalent dollar amount.
Biro Faultus! Small spots appear on unwanted garments so they can be returned to the supplier.
Moneyvish Nownow! A cheque is really in the mail.
Upidy Quantum! Causes the buyer to increase the selected order by 50 per cent.
Wharfus Expandorosa! Enough room is created at the docks to offload and transport containers of apparel.
Snapus Brastapus! A workplace molester suddenly finds himself wrapped in black spider webs.
Venturing Zarawards
Although I’ve had plenty to say about Zara opening in Sydney, it was not until recently that I trundled into town to have a first-hand experience.
Wanting to avoid standing in the well-publicised queue, I arrived at nine o-clock in the morning. Mistake. Although there was plenty of activity inside the big store, it was among the sales team being revved up for the day. As I slumped against a lamppost across the road waiting, I noticed several other shoppers trying to get into Zara. The problem was that nowhere on the doors or windows was a sign advising shopping hours.
At half past nine the doors opened and I was welcomed into Zaraland by a pleasant young lady. I asked her about the opening hours mystery and was told that Zara opened at half past nine, the same as every other store in the Westfield temple. Silly me didn’t know. And neither did the other silly early birds. Being an objectionable bugger, I asked her why the store didn’t have a sign in the window. She was sure it did have, and we went together on a competitive hunt to find it. Thank God it wasn’t there – which gave me a win over the greatest clothing company on earth.
The stock? I don’t want to be a knocker, but apart from some well-priced basics you could find better-styled, probably better-made clobber all over town. I don’t know how long the Zara honeymoon will last. It may already be over.
To do the right thing, I had to buy something. I went to the menswear department and found a pair of suede slop-around-the-house shoes that were nothing special, but okay. I needed to try them on. The young salesman assisted me, he thought, by producing a set of low steps, which he motioned to me to use. How? If I sat on them I couldn’t reach my feet and if I put one foot on them it was still too far away. I abandoned the steps and went down on one knee in a sort of 100-metre starting position and wrestled with the available foot, nearly toppling over in the process. Luckily, the shoes fitted and I bought them.
Maybe we’re expecting too much from Zara. Currently it enjoys hero status when, in reality, it is just another nice schmutta outlet.
Mark is missed
While they wouldn’t admit it publically, I’ll bet the David Jones board is missing Mark McInnes. Company results and expectations have sagged in a way that may not have happened under his leadership.
Meanwhile, the store is bravely battling on, Markless. I tried to mount my own rescue mission recently by looking for a new pair of black shoes in the Westfield Bondi store. The men’s shoe department was hard to find, it was so small. In fact, I thought it was a bargain satellite section until being told this was all that was.
The selection was therefore limited but, to be fair, well chosen. However, the department was totally serviced by one young lady who was run off her excellent legs. At least six people were waiting to buy as she rushed back and forth into the stock reserve to find requested sizes.
I can see the day when, in the interests of further overhead reduction, there will be nobody at all serving in the department and customers will be directed to rummage in the reserve themselves and take their purchase to the lolly counter in the basement where they will be allowed to queue up and pay.
I am pleased to say that my love for David Jones and my belief in bricks and mortar retailing prevailed, and I paid $159 for a pair of Hush Puppies that I could have bought much cheaper on the net. I will await my reward in heaven.
