I'll be in the South Hall...

Once again we all enter the chute, ready to be ejected at warp speed into that alternate reality that we call the Housewares Show.
 
If you are a buyer it’s a pressure-drenched few days in which to meet with all your current vendors, work on programs, set follow up meetings, and then (oh God, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) discover THE ITEMS that will make you a star in the coming year.
 
If you are a manufacturer it’s a matter of getting the booth and samples delivered before Saturday afternoon, then unpacked, set up, and displayed without enough help while hoping late samples magically materialize. All the while you field unending “helpful suggestions” from folks who have the time and energy to criticize but who also beam themselves out of the building when really nasty and dreary set-up chores have to be done. Like labeling. And cleaning.
 
Reps on the other hand constantly calculate the odds that they will actually have face time with accounts that refuse to make appointments but promise to drop by a booth “sometime on Sunday.” This calculation is only slightly more complex than predicting all the brackets in March Madness. And be aware that as you stand idly waiting for an account in a booth, the manufacturer giving you the hairy eyeball is as pissed at you for apparently doing nothing more than taking up space as your other manufacturers (whose booths you are not in as your accounts come looking for you) are likewise convinced of your ineptitude and total lack of planning.
 
Yes, the Housewares Show has something for everyone.
 
Lest you think I have a really bad attitude let me assure you that these observations are strictly mostly tongue in cheek, based on my own experiences in buying, manufacturing, and selling. For me, part of the experience at the Housewares Show is what happens in the aisles, not necessarily the booths. The aisle are where you run into old friends and acquaintances, the aisles are where you network, the aisles are where even a jaded industry veteran can be blown away by something really new in a booth you didn’t know existed.
 
That being said, here’s a list of our manufacturer’s booths. Swing by and there’s a reasonable chance that you’ll bump into me as I’m coming or going. If there’s enough time maybe we can split an $8.00 pretzel.
 
Thermos S2443
Marinex  S3225
Sagaform  S3267
Pillivuyt  S4333
Chef’s Planet S4410
C60 (6 Ideas) N6004

The View From January

I suppose that a year-end entry about our Housewares industry, its retailers, manufacturers, and salespeople should include pithy observations about the changing retailing climate, social media, new products, and thought-provoking insights about our economic future.  It could include a screed about how things have changed from what once was, nostalgic glimpses of more exciting times, and wistful remembrances of colorful characters and retailers.
 
Sorry, too predictable.  There are those who have covered the topic before me and have done so far more artfully.
 
Recaps of the year’s business climate always seem to follow a well-worn path:  We are told what the big trends were (not a difficult task if you haven’t been asleep for the preceding twelve months), we are told what next year’s trends may be, and it is all delivered in sage, knowing tones as if this information is being channeled to us by some divine eminence via the keyboard of a carefully chosen writer.
 
The bottom line is this:  If you are in our industry, in any capacity, and you can honestly say that 2010 ended up anywhere from great to reasonably OK, that’s an accomplishment that many will envy.  Considering the economic turmoil we see all around us, if you finished your year in the up column YOU should be giving advice and making predictions.
 
Surviving and prospering in 2011 will take bold initiatives and guts of steel to take the necessary risks.  When we look at various manufacturers and accounts we see one common trait among those that had a strong 2010:  that trait was a willingness to try something new and untested.  When things went well they all looked like geniuses.  When things did not go as planned they quickly regrouped and tried something new.  And that my friends is the key in this economy: to extend one’s boundaries, to resist the tried and true, and to have more ideas waiting when plans don’t work out.  The successful manufacturer or retailer will always be pushing forward, rather than holding back.

Tastes Good, Not Like a Mummy

After a recent sojourn in Death Valley, Ca. my wife Pamela and I were tooling the rental car through rural Nevada when we saw the large, hand-lettered sign:  ELK JERKY FREE SAMPLES.  Talk about four words you don’t expect to see together.

After about a half mile, there on the side of the road outside of Pahrump was a red pickup truck parked next to what looked like a plywood fruit-stand kind of display.  I pulled off the road onto the dusty, gravelly shoulder.  What can only be described as a geezer (not a galoot mind you) stirred in the cab of the pickup as his dog, an improbable tiny thing with a bow in its hair, yapped frantically at us.

He had a big grin as he slid out of the truck and strolled towards me as I approached the display.  He extended his hand and proclaimed, “I’m John.  I make jerky with my son Doug.  We call it John and Doug’s jerky.  What’s your name?”

We chatted for a while and I learned that he lived about 600 miles away in Utah, that he and Doug hunt and process what they sell, that he does this for fun, and would I like to try his wares.  He had all manner of jerky: beef, buffalo, deer, and elk in a wide variety of flavors.  He had some that was smoked, some with teriyaki flavoring, some with various peppers.  He sliced off chunks and as he handed them to me to try he’d pause so I could concentrate on the samples.  Then he’d quiz me about how each one tasted, how did it compare to the previous piece, was it better or worse than what I’d had in the past.

In between tastes I got the pitch: $12 for one pack, $11 if I bought two, and $10 for ten packs.  Assort them any way you please.  Also he had his phone number on the label, call if you want more and he’d ship it.

I’m no jerky expert, far from it.  But this stuff didn’t have the texture of leather.  And it was pliable and dare I say it, a little moist.  It was not like that stuff you find in a highway rest stop that makes you think you’re gnawing on a mummy.  It was quite good with  subtle flavors that were not overpowered by the spices.  I bought a few packs.

We said our goodbyes and off we went.  And as we drove towards civilization (Las Vegas?) it occurred to me that John had retail and salesmanship down cold:  He greeted his customers, engaged, them, described his products’ features and benefits, listened to his customers, was generous with samples, had adequate inventory, priced his merchandise reasonably, and had ample free parking.  And while I can’t say for sure, I will go out on a limb and bet you a pack of jerky that he did not have an MBA from Wharton.

The Nexus of Want and Need

She wanted to know how much molybdenum was used in the construction of the knife.  “It’s important that I know that,” she said, “along with the amount of carbon, chromium and nickel.”

I was helping out at one of my accounts during a sales event and had gotten cornered by a consumer.  I was there to help sell my line of gadgets.  I not only didn’t have a knife line to sell, but I didn’t even know that much about this particular manufacturer of knives.  I mentally reached back to my buyer days, trying to recall construction details, metal types, as well as features and benefits of various shaped blades.  I didn’t have an answer for her so I figured I’d stall for time.  “What is it that you are trying to do with a knife?” I asked.  “What are you cutting?  What are you cooking?  Do you have some special prep needs?”

She looked uncertain and replied, “I just need knives for general cutting.  You know, like cooking.  I heard that molybdenum is important.”

And there you have it: Cooking has gone from preparing nourishing food on a daily basis, to a part time hobby, and finally to the acquisition of food related hardware for no real purpose other than to “have the best.”

I wonder sometimes what our responsibility is in the manufacturing, wholesaling, and retailing of housewares.  Many of us in this business are here because of our love for food, its preparation, and all that is connected in sharing food and good times with families and friends.  Some of us slowly got dragged into that mindset after being part of the industry for a while.  And some of us (though I believe the smallest, probably most delusional group) are in this business for the amazing wealth, power, and fame it generates.  Is it our responsibility to tell someone that they don’t need a $200 plus chef’s knife for cutting their peanut butter sandwich in two?  Or should we play along and just load them up with whatever they can afford; skills or necessities be damned?

Sales has always been a challenging profession.  We walk a thin line that straddles selling what is needed and selling what is wanted.  Often those two sides don’t meet.  Sales, and its mirrored twin buying, are activities whose final decisions are dictated by emotions as well as concrete needs.  The best we sales folk can do is to know our products, freely offer the benefits of a purchase, openly address the negatives should they come up, and generally attempt to help that buyer make a good choice.

And the buyer, whether a retailer or a consumer?  Read, learn, educate yourself, listen to other opinions, and don’t hesitate to question your own motives for making a purchase.

How ya been? How’s business? How long you staying?

Those questions repeated hundreds of times in rapid-fire mode can only mean one thing:  Show time!  Yes, it’s time for the summer edition of the New York International Gift Fair.
If you’re attending please swing by Sagaform (booth 3463), Pillivuyt, Marlux, Nogent, and Cornishware (booth 3440), and GreenSmart (booth 8249) and take a look at all the new merchandise that will be available for the fall.

Now that the formalities are out of the way I wanted to touch on the recent news about the dimwit who quit his job with a flourish by popping the slide on that JetBlue flight from Pittsburgh.  Yes he was (seemingly) disgruntled and his exit did have a certain panache, but calling him a hero?  Really?  I don’t know a lot about aviation but from where I sit Captain Sullenberger was a hero.  This guy just went batshit crazy.

So as you contemplate unending days in unending aisles, over-priced refreshments, crowds of buyers, lines for busses and cabs, and of course heat and humidity; think about the things that set you off.  What two or three thing just make you want to grab a beer and go down the slide?

Here’s a few that we’ve heard….

Folks who leisurely meander through the aisles (or a booth) while chatting away obliviously on their phone.

Buyers with no pens, no business cards, no references.

Salespeople glumly slumped in chairs who can’t get up to greet a buyer.

Annoying?  You bet!  But not worth dramatic lunacy.  When it all becomes too much just do what I do:  Look for a booth with a bowl of candy and make your move.

Tales from the Sales Prevention Department

I like barbeque.  I like eating it and I like cooking it.  I like to smoke turkey legs, briskets, and ribs.  When I got started about 10 years ago it was a bit of a chore to find a good smoker and an even bigger chore to find a consistent supply of wood to use for smoking.  Backyard smoking just wasn’t a big category here on Long Island and retailers were few and far between.

As the years have gone by there are smokers available at the big box home centers and, for a short period in the late spring and early summer, lots of choices of smoking wood.  But once you get past the Fourth of July, the big retailers don’t reorder merchandise.  If you need a quantity of hickory, well, good luck.  And that is the exact predicament I found myself in a few weeks ago as I started to lay in supplies for 30-guest, early August rib-fest.  We’re smoking 12 large racks of ribs over 2 days and I figured we’d need around 40 pounds of hickory for the 2 day smoking session.

I checked with the usual suspects and no stock was to be found.  What was left in the outdoor departments was a shabby assortment of grills, open boxes of grill covers, and assorted spatulas and tongs.  Hickory?  Long gone and they had to make way for the snow-blowers.  So off I went to a local specialty retailer of grills, grill parts, and propane.  The store also features rubs and marinades as well as a 10 foot long wall display of hickory, apple, mesquite, and other smoking woods.  All in 5 pound bags retailing for $9.95 each.  I asked if they carried larger bags and was told no, this was it.  I asked if I could get a better price if I bought 10 bags and was told no, that’s the price, take it or leave it.

Well, I’m not the kind of guy to drop nearly 100 bucks on wood only to set it on fire so I left the store and headed to the web.  A quick search of Ebay and I found someone in Vermont who offered to ship 50 pounds of hickory chunks for $55.00.  4 days later UPS dropped the box at my front door.

Here’s the point: There are still too many retailers who haven’t adapted to the fact that their local consumers have easy choices way beyond their zipcodes.  Just a slight shift in store policy would have closed the sale.  Working on a slightly lower margin for one sale could have turned dollars and kept a customer.

To Sell or to Use? That is the Question

It was the early 80’s and I was a buyer for a company that owned department stores all across the US.  I was in charge of the tabletop area, specifically  the china department, silver (flatware), and all the crystal and glassware.  Or as the Bronx-ite clerical in the office would answer the phone, “Chiner, Silvuh, and Glaaas.”

The Hunt brothers were making a play to corner the international silver market (look it up, great story) and silver sales were through the roof.  One item you couldn’t get enough of were tea sets.  Yes, those ornate sets which included a tea pot, coffee pot, sugar bowl, creamer, and a serving tray.  Sterling, silverplate, baroque, plain, it didn’t matter.  The public wanted them.  Having never in my life ever seen one in actual use (except in the movies) I wondered aloud who on earth really used these things.  A grizzled buyer in the office simply said, “Those are to sell, not to use.”  A retail life-lesson learned.

Over the years we have had the chance to represent dozens and dozens of lines and items. The concept of items to sell versus items to use has always been part of the decision-making process that is utilized when evaluating new products.  Sometimes, carrying saleable but not necessarily useable items seems like a good idea:  They could be part of a fad, be wildly popular, and ultimately churn dollars.  The downside is often limited popularity and heavy markdowns for the unsold product.  Perhaps the biggest downside risk is your credibility with your customer.  Just as you are what you eat, you are often what you sell.  And that’s true for both the wholesaler and the retailer.