Brinton
Every company has a
story. If it is a good one, people will be attracted to it.
The story of
Coldwater Creek has come to the
last page. Bankrupt and closing its doors, many analysts cite
reasons, but for those of us who think of it as a living breathing
entity, this is a sorry state of affairs.
Started in a ski
condo, in 1984 by Denis and Ann Pence, it had an unlikely beginning. After
moving to Sandpoint and saying goodbye to their corporate jobs, they
decided to launch a catalog business. Their first attempts when,
described by Dennis, were funny. A whale watching instrument which
ostensibly one could play on the coast and illicit a response,
yielded but one sale. It was later returned. One day a package arrived,
unbidden. A stunning silver buckle with a native theme became the
product that launched the company. Ann came up with the name as they
walked along the shores of Lake Pend Oreille. A former copywriter,
she played a huge part in creating a national brand selling women's fashion over three channels: catalog, web and retail. It was not long before they became a Fortune 500 company.
It was 1999 when I
answered an add in the paper and began a new chapter in my life. As a
hands on Mom at home, my previous place of employment had been a ski
lodge and nightclub in Aspen, Co, back in the late seventies. After agonizing over my resume, I
went down to the call center and sat in the lobby for about twenty
minutes. I wanted to get a sense of the people and know the feel of
the place before I tossed my hat in the ring. A woman walked by with
a pail. Thinking it looked a bit odd, she responded to my quizzical
expression by telling me that she was going out to feed the birds.
That was the clincher for me. The fact that she took the time to
speak to me, a stranger sitting there as if waiting for something.
Feeling that it would be a friendly, welcoming place, I took the
leap. Initially hired to be on the 'phones as part of the rank and
file, we were told in training class that if we could write a letter,
we should apply for the web team. While the title sounded daunting,
we were informed that live chat was just around the corner and they
needed people to man it. 1999 was the year America discovered online
shopping. Oh, how we had to coax people to pull out their credit cards.
Business went through the roof and the intrepid little web team
worked at breakneck speed. We would be up to five written
conversations going on simultaneously, while answering email. Not
only did we manage, this small team of fourteen people won an award
for best Internet Customer Service and we were written up in the Wall
Street Journal.
After that, I went
on to become a Product Trainer. Teaching agents in both Coeur d'
Alene, and by video teleconference, West Virginia, we enjoyed
continued success. Something strange began to happen when the
customers would call in: they began professing their love for us. We were given
an ethic of customer service and we were empowered to make our
customers happy. If they complained about shipping costs we were
allowed to erase it from their account. We took any return; we bent
over backwards to make sure that they were pleased with their
purchases. We knew their figure problems, their life problems, their
weight gains and losses. We were allowed to talk, off script, within
reason of course, but we enjoyed those relationships. Through it all,
it seemed unlikely that such an endeavor could spring from a small
town like Sandpoint.
The company grew
and expanded. Denis Pence had the essence of a true entrepreneure. He
tried new things. He scrapped ideas that didn't work. He knew every
product. He would come and talk to us, meet with all his agents, and
hear their concerns. We didn't sit in those meetings mute with fear:
we spoke up and told him what were hearing from customers. They
wanted long tops, we told him. The wanted to be comfortable. They
wanted to get out of sweat pants, look nice, but still be able to
move and bend. They had a hard time finding pants that fit. We all
got on the 'phones at Christmas. Men would call beseeching us for
help. We gave them a set of steps. Go to her closet. Find something
she wears all the time. Get a tape measure and give us the
statistics. It used to make me laugh to hear them go to their toolbox
and get out the metal one used on fix it projects and carpentry, but
they were so happy to have a plan in place.
Training manuals, letters, live chat, and interpreting the copy, all fell under my jurisdiction. It became a job of both writing and speaking. Defining the brand became an interesting challenge, especially as it grew and changed. I relished the chance to be writing, in whatever form, and I thanked my lucky stars that my love of fashion and writing had come together in this form. Having gone to a girl's school and a women's college, the best part of punching a time clock every day for me, came in the form of a work place full of kind and caring women. We had nice guys there too, but they were greatly outnumbered.
Any company is so
much more than the products on the shelves, or the ebb and flow of
dollars out and in. It is a complex set of relationships. It is also a story. The
garments in my closet still hold the Coldwater Creek label. For most
people, it will be nothing but a memory soon. Yet it will be something
different for me. A lesson learned, a collective of people of good
faith, and a never ending sense of gratitude for all the great souls I met
along the way.
