Nobody, no company , no independent brand, no one, would ever make the fragrance in a tester stronger than the fragrance in a bottle, just to get customers to buy it.
Is there some bizarre conspiracy theory floating about the world, along with J.F.K, Diana and U.F.O's?
Because frankly, I will throw a well worn court shoe at the next smart arsed customer who spouts this particular bit of lateral thinking at me.
I'm so glad that the lady who set me off , considers herself savvy enough not to be drawn in by the big companies and 'knows' what we are like.
Obviously, she is as UNAWARE of the laws that govern sales, as she is of her dreadful roots and badly dried out large feet , nestled in the manky sandals that all people who think they are ''different'' wear!!!
What I really wanted to say was, (Forgive me here.)
'Don't be stupid you gullible old fool. We would be ruined by the consumer scandal. What idiot told you that!'
But I didn't, however I do believe I feel better now.
In the Hall of plenty, She Who Must Be Obeyed runs a tight ship. Miss Marple, Miss White, Miss Pankhurst and the Mole are a crack team of Cosmetics Consultants on the front line. These are the day to day diaries from Under the Cosmetics Counter.
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
In search of Billy Liar!
I'm fascinated by liars.
You would think that our profession is top of the pile for out and out whopper mongers, but in sales it doesn't pay to tell an untruth. There is that pesky thing called false advertising, so you can't just say,
'Yes madam, the gilding off this Fairy wing we have specifically packaged in magic pumpkin gloop , will make you twenty years younger, stop you from ever ageing and give you impeccable taste in all things.'
It is not true and we would get sued.
So, if everyone is so aware of that, then why do people talk such steaming great piles of pooh when they are not selling.
Sat amongst the troops in the staff restaurant the other day, I heard such a load of high opinionated codswallop I was stunned. Many years ago before the Tiny Hands made an appearance and I worked the tut full time, I thought I met the ultimate liar of liar's
On Fantasy Island, she had a twin sister, that had died from a failed kidney transplant. Guess who provided the kidney, yes that match of D.N.A matches our Walter Mitty, herself. When she bent over and exposed her entire scar free torso, I asked casually,
'How long was the operation?'
Hours apparently! Over the months I knew her, the adventures on Fantasy Island became more impossible than ever. It was when I found out years later that she cared for elderly parents, that things added up and my fascination began.
Billy Liar, Walter Mitty, all of these fictional (snort ! laugh at the irony!!) characters touch on that subject with fondness and indulgence. But you know, in the opinion of the hard headed realist's I work with now, it is possibly a very dangerous path to follow.
In fact, one that we might be trading on. If people are fantasists, then are they simply buying things to aid that lie? Judging by some of the stuff I've heard recently, on Fantasy Island there are cupboards full of cosmetics that can reshape your life, tone your attitude and matify your outlook. False eyelashes , flutter over false lives.
I've always found, five minutes in the Hall of Plenty more exciting than anything I could make up.
Maybe I have a limited imagination!
You would think that our profession is top of the pile for out and out whopper mongers, but in sales it doesn't pay to tell an untruth. There is that pesky thing called false advertising, so you can't just say,
'Yes madam, the gilding off this Fairy wing we have specifically packaged in magic pumpkin gloop , will make you twenty years younger, stop you from ever ageing and give you impeccable taste in all things.'
It is not true and we would get sued.
So, if everyone is so aware of that, then why do people talk such steaming great piles of pooh when they are not selling.
Sat amongst the troops in the staff restaurant the other day, I heard such a load of high opinionated codswallop I was stunned. Many years ago before the Tiny Hands made an appearance and I worked the tut full time, I thought I met the ultimate liar of liar's
On Fantasy Island, she had a twin sister, that had died from a failed kidney transplant. Guess who provided the kidney, yes that match of D.N.A matches our Walter Mitty, herself. When she bent over and exposed her entire scar free torso, I asked casually,
'How long was the operation?'
Hours apparently! Over the months I knew her, the adventures on Fantasy Island became more impossible than ever. It was when I found out years later that she cared for elderly parents, that things added up and my fascination began.
Billy Liar, Walter Mitty, all of these fictional (snort ! laugh at the irony!!) characters touch on that subject with fondness and indulgence. But you know, in the opinion of the hard headed realist's I work with now, it is possibly a very dangerous path to follow.
In fact, one that we might be trading on. If people are fantasists, then are they simply buying things to aid that lie? Judging by some of the stuff I've heard recently, on Fantasy Island there are cupboards full of cosmetics that can reshape your life, tone your attitude and matify your outlook. False eyelashes , flutter over false lives.
I've always found, five minutes in the Hall of Plenty more exciting than anything I could make up.
Maybe I have a limited imagination!
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