Underdog Status: Denied!

Having a retail establishment where there isn't any foot traffic is a bitch. Hearing from most of the people who end up finding you that they "didn't even know you were here" is the kind of thing that makes you want to jump up and down on the street with giant foam fingers and point to your store while shouting to everyone to get the hell in your building. I'm telling you, it's tough. Especially when so many people who do wander in accidentally actually really like your store. It makes you feel like if you had a good location you might actually do pretty well.

I don't generally go around life feeling sorry for myself. If things aren't going well, or how I'd hoped, or I find I haven't been allowed to join the cheerleaders (again), instead of hanging my head, I hop on over to the Under-dog club where I'm almost always cheerfully welcome. We wouldn't have started a store in the first place if we hadn't have found the space we did in the Courtyard building. It was a great way to get our retail feet wet. It was inexpensive (because of no foot traffic) and a manageable size (150 square feet). It got us into the groove. It helped us develop what our store was really all about. But over the past few months we've gotten restless. We knew pretty quick that if we wanted our store to be successful we were going to have to get into a better location. That's not easy.

We're the new kids in town. To get a space here you need to know people, be able to pounce fast, and be able to convince the landlords that you are a better choice of tennant than the new H.P. Lovecraft Cult in town who wants to compete with the Navy for recruits. It can be a bit daunting and discouraging. Spaces have come up and we still found ourselves on the outskirts of the downtown frontier waving our foam fingers. I get a little bit rebellious sometimes when I feel like I'm not being allowed in any kind of exclusive club. It's not an attractive trait; I am constantly trying to put out the rebellious fires in myself. But they flare up anyway. I was starting to feel that no one was ever going to rent a space to us, that we were going to be overlooked for an eternity until we were forced to close up shop and go get applications for Jo Annes Fabrics.

So instead of letting myself feel pathetic for more than two minutes, I stood up strait and said: "Screw everyone!! We'll do well in spite of them all! We'll defy the statistics, we'll focus our efforts on the web store and this will be our design studio that happens to be open to the public." Basically, I filled out an application to the official under-dog club. Being an under-dog is a proud tradition that I am never ashamed to be a part of. Good things often happen for under-dogs and most of the coolest people on earth spent at least some of their time in this prestigious group. (If you're having trouble conjuring up an image of what I'm talking about, think about the movie "Mystery Men". It's all right there. The ultimate under-dog film.)

I filled out my under-dog application right after seeing that another spot had opened up downtown. A prime spot. A perfect spot with fabulous windows to dress. I made inquiries and on hearing how many people were interested in it already (a vague largish amount) I was discouraged. Obviously we weren't going to be able to compete with a vague largish amount of interested businesses because we are pond scum. No, we're not pond scum, that's the kind of thing my brain likes to dish out to me right before I decide to be too cool to care. So Philip and I decided not to worry or think about it. We went ahead and planned the grand opening for our new spot in the courtyard.

But I couldn't not care. I just couldn't stop feeling that if we got to rent a store front in a great location, with great windows to dress, that we would be a successful store and really add something to the downtown mix. This is our one chance, after all. So I decided to put together an application package. I decided to do it in my own style. I wrote a long letter to the prospective landlords about how come they should rent their space to us, who we are, what we hope to achieve, and furnished them with all the tax numbers and references they could need. I figured that if they didn't like our casual approach, or if my style of expressing myself was not dry and business-y enough for them, then we wouldn't want to rent from them anyway. Taking this attitude ensured two things: 1) that our prospective landlords would have an honest view of who we are so that we can continue to just be ourselves and 2) that if they decided we weren't a good fit for them, we would feel that we'd done our best and not felt bitter about the outcome.

Apparently they liked the casualness. They asked us to come down and talk to them yesterday. Within a couple of minutes we were told they would rent it to us. Which is when I started jumping up and down like a fifteen year old who just got a date with Justin Timberlake. When something that good happens to you it's impossible to remain stoic and calm like you just got a full labotomy. Now we'll have the chance we were hoping for, a fair chance to make this business successful.

I get to be a window dresser!!!

So we will be opening the store in our new location by December 1st at the latest. And BBQ Bob will get his bride. So, as you can see for yourself, we were denied access to the underdog club this time around. I'm sure we'll catch up with them somewhere down the road, but may it be a long time from now so we'll have great stories to tell around the super-suit campfire.