Churches refer to it as The Feast of St. Valentine. There was the St. Valentine's Day massacre in 1929. Many associate V-Day with Victory Day that was celebrated when Germany was defeated by the allies in World War II . Many others, more recently, associate V-Day as a global movement to promote the awareness and prevention sexual violence toward women and girls, as inspired by the award-winning play by Eve Ensler, The Vagina Monologues. Others refer to Valentines Day as V-Day, but even those people do not consider V-Day the single most important day of the year. A day for which a year's worth of preparation is done; a day that makes or breaks the business. That is, unless you work for The Largest Lingerie Brand in the world (which will hitherto be referred to as LLB).
The success of the product at LLB impacts the enjoyment of those celebrating Valentine's Day all over the world. Seriously, the world. We're talking billions of dollars here. The process starts the day after the previous year's V-Day. People go to Europe and east Asia (among other places) in search of fabrics to imitate or to bring inspiration. I know of one man who drove a jeep to a desert town to go to the market to check out fabrics. Often a new lingerie line is introduced at V-Day, frequently at a Very Famous Fashion Show. Sometimes a new miracle fabric is introduced that effects the future of lingerie as we know it. This is the company that made the thong a household name. There is always a "launch" of a new fabrics, silhouette or color palette, all for V-Day. Then, once all the design is complete, the orders go to the factories in places like Egypt and Pakistan. Women are paid a dollar a day make panties and bras. Those units are shipped to LBB, on a very precarious time table in order to minimize shipping costs.
My job at LLB was at the end of the line. I supervised the people who decided how many units of each style, each color, and each size went to over 800 stores. I developed a system that assisted in that process being a precise as possible, in how many we ordered at well as to which stores they were shipped. The bottom line is this: you wanted to sell as many as you can, without running out. This is called sell-thru. Our goal was 98% sell-thru. If it was 100% then we knew we could have sold more. Any less and we'd have too many left over we'd have to sell at a reduced price. All of this, every single decision, business goals, even jobs hinged upon this one day, which we referred to as V-Day. At this point I am boring you, so I will get to the crux of my anecdote.
One day, in late winter, I was newly pregnant and walking across the enormous parking lot, probably talking on my cell phone about something that just couldn't wait three minutes until I got into the building. At that point I was on the fence about whether or not to stay home once the baby was born or go back to work. I remember glancing over, and saw a bumper sticker on a pick-up truck. The truck probably belonged to someone poor bloke who worked in the distribution center and had been working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 14 days to get the product out in time for V-Day. I assume he was an EMT in his spare time or something (sorry I am making the assumption here that the truck belonged to a man). The bumper sticker said "I save lives, what do you do?"
I thought, Oh my God, I sell underwear.
I sell underwear. Images of playdates, minivans, soccer games, healthy meals at home all rushed through my head. The scales were tipped at that point.
The final decision was not made until one autumn day when Charlie was six weeks old. As I nursed my son I watched two airplanes crash into two skyscrapers in New York City. My husband had gone to a meeting in one of the towers not too long before. My mind was made up.
I make no judgments about the decisions others make. I wish there was a way I could work without a nanny or daycare raising my children, but I cannot be two people. You never know what direction your life will go so assume nothing. However unexpected it was, I think I made the best decision for my family… and for me.
The success of the product at LLB impacts the enjoyment of those celebrating Valentine's Day all over the world. Seriously, the world. We're talking billions of dollars here. The process starts the day after the previous year's V-Day. People go to Europe and east Asia (among other places) in search of fabrics to imitate or to bring inspiration. I know of one man who drove a jeep to a desert town to go to the market to check out fabrics. Often a new lingerie line is introduced at V-Day, frequently at a Very Famous Fashion Show. Sometimes a new miracle fabric is introduced that effects the future of lingerie as we know it. This is the company that made the thong a household name. There is always a "launch" of a new fabrics, silhouette or color palette, all for V-Day. Then, once all the design is complete, the orders go to the factories in places like Egypt and Pakistan. Women are paid a dollar a day make panties and bras. Those units are shipped to LBB, on a very precarious time table in order to minimize shipping costs.
My job at LLB was at the end of the line. I supervised the people who decided how many units of each style, each color, and each size went to over 800 stores. I developed a system that assisted in that process being a precise as possible, in how many we ordered at well as to which stores they were shipped. The bottom line is this: you wanted to sell as many as you can, without running out. This is called sell-thru. Our goal was 98% sell-thru. If it was 100% then we knew we could have sold more. Any less and we'd have too many left over we'd have to sell at a reduced price. All of this, every single decision, business goals, even jobs hinged upon this one day, which we referred to as V-Day. At this point I am boring you, so I will get to the crux of my anecdote.
One day, in late winter, I was newly pregnant and walking across the enormous parking lot, probably talking on my cell phone about something that just couldn't wait three minutes until I got into the building. At that point I was on the fence about whether or not to stay home once the baby was born or go back to work. I remember glancing over, and saw a bumper sticker on a pick-up truck. The truck probably belonged to someone poor bloke who worked in the distribution center and had been working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 14 days to get the product out in time for V-Day. I assume he was an EMT in his spare time or something (sorry I am making the assumption here that the truck belonged to a man). The bumper sticker said "I save lives, what do you do?"
I thought, Oh my God, I sell underwear.
I sell underwear. Images of playdates, minivans, soccer games, healthy meals at home all rushed through my head. The scales were tipped at that point.
The final decision was not made until one autumn day when Charlie was six weeks old. As I nursed my son I watched two airplanes crash into two skyscrapers in New York City. My husband had gone to a meeting in one of the towers not too long before. My mind was made up.
I make no judgments about the decisions others make. I wish there was a way I could work without a nanny or daycare raising my children, but I cannot be two people. You never know what direction your life will go so assume nothing. However unexpected it was, I think I made the best decision for my family… and for me.
2 comments:
*applause* Really well written. The first half was interesting - how much effort is put into lingerie - my gosh. It's kind of mind boggling when you think about if all that money and effort were put to some other use.
I don't have a problem with lingerie per se - I own some and use it - It's just the industry that kind of sickens me.
Anyway, the second half of this story was really touching. I try not to judge others either, but it breaks my heart to see women wasting time and energy on their careers while their children waste their childhoods missing out on so much... The career you can always go back to, but the children grow and are gone before you know it. You can't have THAT back.
I'm happy for your 3 boys - and I know they will be thankful one day, too (if they aren't already!)
Nicely put.I love the juxtaposition of the lingerie with the images of what motherhood would be in your head. I for one would have trouble going back to advertising and taking any of their deadlines too seriously anymore.
Post a Comment