Not long ago, I owned a few multi-brand clothing boutiques as well as my own fashion label. We had a very personalized approach to fashion, one that went far beyond the items we sold in our stores. I couldn’t count the number of times that level of personalization led to making house calls for clients at all hours of the night. Frankly, why wouldn’t we? We were in our clients’ closets on a weekly basis—helping with everything from curating daily wardrobes to packing suitcases for holidays. The relationship extended to actually helping them plan their vacations: choosing hotels, advising on which business-class seat on American Airlines had the least amount of radiation and noise, organizing private drivers to collect the entire family at the airport, and booking my friends’ restaurants globally, many of which had year-long waitlists. Nothing was out of reach. I solved the impossible for my clients time and time again, at any hour of any day. Why? Because when you have clients who are loyal to you, you must offer a service they cannot get elsewhere. That is your edge.
For the first four years of owning my clothing stores, I hand wrote a thank-you note to every single client who made a purchase. I am known for this in my industry. That level of personalization has always been paramount to my brand. We hosted events at luxury five-star boutique hotels, serving champagne while selling hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of carefully crafted edits from in a single evening. How did I do this? It’s my magic. I created an experience that everyone wanted to be a part of. It’s a wonderful feeling to walk away from an evening where customers leave smiling and, as a business, you’ve made your entire quarter’s plan with just a few sales. I often asked myself, “How is this my job?” Our job was to understand our clients’ lifestyles, and to do that well, we had to understand them deeply. I conducted extensive interview projects with my clients—having them divulge things you wouldn’t normally tell your therapist. I took them to lunch. I was there if they needed me to watch their daughter in an emergency. I cared.
For reasons still somewhat unknown to me, it worked—and it worked well, time and time again. Those interviews helped me understand why customers chose me, what they wanted, what they didn’t yet know they needed, and how I could help them. I love fashion, and there was nothing more exciting to me than helping people express their personality through clothing and complete the “dream lifestyle” they were striving to achieve. We offered lines of credit to some of our more seasoned, trustworthy customers—the same type of house accounts you find at luxury jewelers like Cartier (Red Card) and Tiffany (Time Account). We didn’t have a name for this service, and in hindsight, I wish we did—along with one of those fabulous membership cards that make you feel like part of the in-crowd. There is nothing I love more than building a community of customers so loyal that they almost feel pain shopping elsewhere. This service was created exclusively for customers spending over $100K USD, all the way up to $500K USD. These clients accounted for less than 1% of our customer base but more than 60% of sales—the kind of women who would spend $250K USD in a single visit. If someone we trusted wanted a few months to pay, we always thought, “Why on earth would we say no?” I was comfortable underwriting the credit. These were people who would do anything to be included in my world and feared the moment they might not be invited back. Those were the days—money felt like it was growing on trees, and we could sell anything.
Since the high times of the mid-2000s, the fashion business has changed rather drastically. When I first opened shop, brick-and-mortar retail was simply what you did. A select few companies were online and doing relatively well, but they were mostly big brands or fashion conglomerates that had built their names during the late ’90s dot-com boom. We didn’t understand customer acquisition, purchasing behavior, or big data. We understood psychographics, demographics, and trends. I deeply understood my customer and what they were willing to do to remain in my world. Boy, times have changed. I often think I should have opened some sort of e-commerce business on a really large scale—whether selling clothes, design objects, curated items, or even experiences from around the globe. You name it, it’s been done, but it always seemed so limiting. I think there is a lot of merit in focusing on doing a one thing or a few things really well and better than everyone else, but I also think that in this day-and-age, being different means finding your edge. Maybe that means starting with one offering and having a plan to expand that offering out into many different areas like so many of the asset managers are doing now. A few years ago, I launched an AI-based fashion brand with clickable technology throughout the site and video-driven, seamless three-step checkouts— it was a bit early for it’s time (2011), but it was a great foreshadowing of what was to come with socials. But lately, I’m bored with fashion. I’m more interested in bigger ideas—ideas that truly transform markets.
And that, I believe, is Bitcoin, which you have been hearing me talk about for years now. It’s still so early and there is so much innovation that will come out.
*This is definitely fashion advice, but not investment advice.
Coco wears an Etro Silk Blouse with matching Etro Silk Skinny Trousers, Prada Heels, and a Saint Laurent Tote. Photography: Bethany Halbreich. All pieces were gifted.