At age 70, an important principle to adhere to is this: Don’t let things get boring. Don’t live in a rut. This is Kernie’s story.
Kernie will occasionally keep me up on the activities of our daughter’s friends from High School. Facebook is the usual vehicle. One such neighbor who graduated with Darby made contact as she was a partner in a new Olympia business which was going to sell high-end lingerie. Her plan was to market to women of all ages, and would Kernie be interested in modeling some of their products?
I gave my customary, “That’s nice,” as I continued on a Spanish Grammar drill. As we took time to discuss it later, I felt that she should be flattered.—and she was! The exercise of modeling took place in Tacoma at a photo studio and the experience was first-rate with make- up, lighting, and as she related it, pretty amazing lingerie. She was the eldest of the group of women participating most of whom were the age of my daughter, Amber. I saw some of the finished photographs which included her, tattoos and all. With respect to the women modeling, I was reminded of the old Eric Burton song, “Spill the Wine,” there were, “….long ones, tall ones, short ones, brown ones black ones, round ones, big ones…..” A lovely mix of young and middle aged women—and one grandmother— modeling tasteful and sexy underwear. All these photos made it to Facebook and I thought it an auspicious start to the new business. However, I had my doubts about the viability of such a business in Olympia.
“How is this business going to stay open,” asked Kernie on several occasions. “I have no idea,” I responded as I read a New York Times Editorial on Clarence Thomas. The discussion flowed to just how many people in a town of 150,00 can afford high-end lingerie. The question took on a different feel when she mentioned that they sold high end vibrators and sex toys as well; lubricants and written literature rounded out the inventory. Now, I really didn’t know because after forty years of medical experience, I have learned you cannot judge a book by its cover—and—-people spend money on things that don’t always make economic sense. Despite covering human sexuality in my clinical practice, I did not—would not —have a clue how attractive this store might be especially given our circumstances of the last three years with COVID.
Kernie was asked if she wanted a job selling at the store. She did not. The question came back a different way a few months later: the two partners both needed to be out of town at the same time; could she cover the store for four days? Kernie said yes. Her job training became abbreviated quickly. When confronted with all the forms for a new employee, Kernie gave them back and said, “you don’t have to pay me.” She was doing this as a favor for a business whose survival looked questionable and for the relationship and support she wanted to give to someone she watched grow up. The incredulity passed, a client entered, took time talking, and Kernie had to leave. She never got a thorough hands-on orientation to running the computer/register which tracked and charged for sales…….
I promised Kernie I would come visit on her first day of work—after I did Spanish drills and got through the news and walked the dog. The dog and I showed up with lunch and I promised to cook dinner. Kernie was dressed professionally and was now beaming. “Let me show you this stuff!” This was a first for me. I have passed Victoria’s secret without going in many many times. I once had to buy bra strap cushions at Macy’s in the lingerie section when I had a teen aged daughter with a very large cup size. I have never been treated so kindly by a salesperson since I went on that mission. But here, there was underwear from many a movie script we have all seen come to life. Black and red colors predominated. There was lace as well as tasteful prints and unusual lines to the cut of the bras and panties. There were very tasteful pieces that made me think of confident French women. Then a “garmet” was put up for my display. It had many many straps, but there was no fabric to be found anywhere. Another was obviously a bra, but there was no fabric where the cups should be. I shook my head a little; yes these were sexy items. I was not prepared for the next question. “Do you know what this bra with no fabric costs?” Answer? $100.
My next thought was to wonder if a poll of men in their forties could accurately perform in a Price is Right forum guessing the price of normal vs fancy underwear. I am guessing I would fail miserably at this task, having just done exactly that.
Kernie came home later that night, had a wonderful home-cooked meal, and stated that she sold three items all day. She sold three vibrators, $100 dollars each. Two went to young twenty-somethings with the leader forcing the purchase on her friend who Kernie was told, despite being in a relationship for over a year, had never had an orgasm. This sort of topic is a subject of some expertise for us medical people and the Kern specifically. They had a rich and full conversation while closing the sale. In addition, to successfully close the sale, the young girls saw that Kernie had no idea what she was doing and gave her a quick tutorial on registering the sale, charging the credit card, and printing a receipt.
When done, the anorgasmic girl, cute as can be according to Kernie, blurted out, “I think you know my mother!” Kernie smiled, thinking that this in fact was quite likely; as noted, the county only has 150,000 or so people. “Who is your mother?” When the mother was named, Kernie let out a loud laugh. “Tell your mother, my husband is still in love with her!” It is true, I had a crush on that woman once upon a time.
I managed my morning, “work” and brought the dog down to Perceival landing, arriving to see Kernie chatting it up with two of our friends and one of their grandchildren (happily, a girl) in the store. The dog and I stayed for about ten minutes and as one started to eye the garter belts, I politely excused myself. When Kernie came home to a dinner of leftovers, she mentioned that I was both insightful and strategic making my exit when I did. She went on to tell me that later that afternoon, a seventy-five year old woman came with a $50 gift certificate from her husband.
As she looked at the merchandise, she asked Kernie, “Do you think when he gave this to me he was thinking of a nightgown or a robe, or do you think…….”
Kernie was clear, “I don’t think he was thinking PJ’s….” The woman spent an hour trying on various garments and they chatted through the curtains. In the end, she purchased $250 dollars worth of merchandise—-no vibrator but yes, the black bra with no material. Kernie’s computer tutorial did not include entering a gift certificate. She gave it a moment’s thought and realized she did know how to discount a purchase. She discounted the amount of the card and kept it to show the owner when accounting for this approach. She wondered if a millennial could have problem solved that until I pointed out that the millennial would actually know how to use the computer.
Of interest, on this day, Kernie stayed late because this store was the site of a class with focus on menopause. Amber was giving a talk on menopause while offering up flu shots. A sex therapist was invited to advertise her expertise. The class had sold out and the conversations were rich and of a variety that don’t happen nearly enough in medical practices.
So there is a themed substance to this business that goes beyond the window dressing of lingerie and sex toys. Some of the sex toys stressed my recollection of human anatomy. Along those lines, I learned that more classes were scheduled and with some incredulity learned that there was a session on Shibari or Japanese bondage techniques more properly known as Kinbaku. We joked a bit on this topic: “The cost is $100 and they don’t even provide you with rope!” I added, “Well, silk rope has to be expensive. My question is whether the $100 is per person or covers a couple and by the way, are men allowed in this session?” It turns out, silk rope is not used, but rather, linen, jute, or hemp. The class does have people coming—or at least registering. An additional class that has a waiting list covers the topic, “sensual blueprinting.”
I believe this business may have stumbled upon a viable business model even in a town of 150,000.
Kernie’s third day of work found me staying at home and taking time in the gym. She came home ebullient despite the dinner I prepped: a chicken Teriaki mix from Trader’Joes that I thought had vegetables in it but only had meat, served over rice.
“I had a fifteen hundred dollar sale today, “ she beamed. “The wife of a successful CEO showed up and picked merchandise and put it on the counter without trying it on and purchased it without blinking an eye." Having just read an article on yet another athlete with a $250 million dollar contract who was underperforming, my first thought, I am embarrassed to say, was, “Tax the rich!”
Kernie does not plan to return to work. Despite making some good sales and having some interesting conversations, the great majority of time was silent and without company. She missed the dog. She has expressed interest in helping Amber out with future seminars so, time will tell.
Does anyone remember how to tie a Bowline knot?
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