On life lessons and a black dress

Do you believe psychics? I have always been highly sceptical. I can never quite get the crystal ball, the floaty way of talking, the life style with an air of hippie. Until. I started working for this fashion stylist, looking after her two small sons while she went to meet rich clients to be their personal stylists for a few hours. This lady was super trendy, tall, skinny, blonde, gorgeous; as a father of another child I looked after called her: a yummy mummy. I do not tend to get along with fashionable people (I never understood why I had to buy pointy shoes just 'cause someone decided they were in fashion, and never understood why other women just went out and bought them even though they were, clearly, ugly and well, pointy) but this lady and I hit it off instantly. She was super down to earth, witty, warm and very sincere. Totally shattered my image of the stereotype fashionista. She does always, always look fabulous, even in sneakers and jeans.
Then, with a laugh of dismissal, she told me she is also a psychic, that she communicates with the spirit world and sees ghosts. She had me in stitches with a story about a ghost in the women's toilet at a bar on Brunswick street, I think it was Ginger Boy. Supposedly, the ladies toilet has an old man ghost who's a bit of a perve, and as she was busting to go she ran in, and saw this ghost who insisted on watching her pee! I think she managed to convince him to let her pee in peace. Anyhow, I only looked after her boys for a short while, but she and I have stayed very good friends and she's been a great guide in helping me understand some of life's lessons.

But, I am about to tell you about a LBD (little black dress) and how it's taught me a life lesson. It might be a long story, and you might find it quite amusing, but it really epitomises how I feel about having turned 30. I can't say I'm enjoying being 30 yet, but I think I'm getting there. I'm starting to see the funny side.

It was October last year. I was turning 30. I was quite keen on a big party, a James Bond-style cocktail soiree to be exact. I hired out a cocktail bar, organised props and designed invites, Ash got a brand new suit and shoes and I wanted a Bond Girl dress. It had to be sexy and black and long and bling. I started researching it weeks before the party (which I had to move because people just are unable to attend my parties, so even after I moved it, hardly anyone came but that's a different story). My stylist psychic friend told me to go a certain store that for now well be nameless, we shall call it SC, as they would have the perfect type of dress for my party. So after weeks of online research and 7 days before the party, I did visit SC. And I did find the perfect dress. Oh my god, it was soooooo sexy, so Bond, so very, very perfect. I couldn't believe that beautiful lady in the mirror was me! (The lady below isn't me, but put my head on, and that's what I looked like!)

Then, I looked at the price tag. $670. Nope, that dress was not, simply not, an option. I left the store disappointed. Of course, with just a week to go, the hunt became frantic and I just couldn't find anything to match the glamour and wow of that dress. I knew there was another store which sold that brand, it was a little out of the way, but we decided to go there anyway, to see if they might have a more attractive price on offer. When I asked the lady she said yes, they did sell that dress, and it would take two weeks to get shipped from New York. They would sell it to me for $450. I couldn't believe my rotten luck! I did not have 2 weeks! So, even more disappointed I turned to my wonderful husband, who had come shopping with me and we talked it over. He agreed that that dress was the most sexy, the most Bond. So it had to be that dress. I called up SC, did they still have it, yes they did. They told me I was lucky, as it was the only black one in all of Australia, they never order more than one of each dress to maintain exclusivity. I rushed back to SC, Ash drove around the block as there were no parks, and I told the manager who had zipped me up when I tried it on that morning, about the other store and the price there. She rolled her eyes, told me they must be going broke to sell it that cheap, and reluctantly gave me a $50 discount, and stopped being friendly instantly, in fact, she became quite unpleasant. She wrapped the dress up quickly, put it in a bag and gave it to me. She didn't smile or told me to enjoy my very expensive purchase. I felt a little awkward about the exchange.

At night, I put it on, in front of the mirror, to gloat and stare at myself. I noticed a few little pulls in the fabric on the inside, but shrugged them off, as it was my dream dress and I was going to look simply deadly in it. I asked Ash to zip me up. He notice there was a hole in the seam under the zip right on my bum and it was very noticeable, and it was also very hard to zip up. I was so disappointed. I decided to call the head office, so as not to have to speak to that unfriendly lady again. The lady I did speak to was so kind and apologetic and told me to come by her store (a different one, further away) and they would repair it for me, and to make sure to call the area manager to inform her about my unpleasant exchange with the other lady. So the next day, I went. In the shoe store next door, I tried on a pair of shoes to see if they would match the dress, so I pulled the dress out and then I noticed there were in total 7 jewels missing from the plunge line. 7 of the big square ones. Admittedly, it wasn't extremely noticeable from a distance, but when you have paid that much money for a dress, you want it to be a brand new dress. This, clearly, was not.

An image of what the detail should look like

So when I walked into SC with the dress, I pointed this fault out to the sales girls, the nice lady I spoke to was the manager and not around. They told me they would send it to their dress alterations person, and would give me a call later that day. They did not. I worried that night about the amount of time it would take to fix the dress, as well as how long it would take to get it taken up (it was too long for me) and for me to find shoes and accessories to match. I did not sleep well.

I did not speak to the area manager the next day, but to a man called D (I'm pretty sure now that he is the owner). I have never, ever, have had such an unpleasant phone conversation in my life. I told him that I had decided I would prefer a refund as I was worried about the time it would take to mend it, and he refused. He was rude, intimidating, talked over the top of me, and told me I was given that $50 discount because of the faults in that dress and that I had been informed about them. He was implying I was trying to get out of a purchase by pretending I didn't know about the faults. I was so offended and hurt that they would make this up, I could barely think straight. I am a person with very high moral standards, and in my job as a nanny did nothing but teach kids right from wrong, so it really hurt to be made out to be the kind of person who would lie about that. D told me that they would repair the dress, and that I could come and pick it up Thursday. I told him, that I had to stay home for a timber delivery that day and he said they would courier it to my house. I reluctantly agreed to this. He had my money, and my dress. I had another two sleepless nights. How on earth was I going to get the dress taken up, find matching shoes and accessories, all in two days time, plus work, and the rest of the party organising that had to be done?

By Thursday late afternoon, the timber had been delivered, but the dress had not. I got Ash to call SC, as I did not want to speak to D ever again. He was told the dress would not be ready until that evening, and that I could come pick it up by 7 pm. I had no choice. I got in the car and drove 1.5 hours in peak hour traffic. When I got to the alterations place (SC was not open any more) and saw the dress, I couldn't believe my eyes. Only five of the missing jewels had been replaced, but with small, plastic beads, of a totally different shape than the originals, and they had holes drilled in them to sew them with. They had bent the original claws that held the jewels to fit around these much smaller beads, with a terrible result. The hole under the zip was stitched up (badly, it turned out). I was devastated and very angry. I'm not ashamed to admit I cried and cried that night.

I was not having a great time all together. I had just found out my mother had to sell our house in Holland, that she had no money to come visit us over christmas, and I was also struggling at work a little. 40 hours of being helpful and cheerful and energetic when you feel like crap is hard to deliver when depression runs your life. I was told by one of my families I wasn't quite doing my job right and that they were  disappointed with my efforts. And nobody was coming to this party I had put so much time and effort into. Nobody cared (boohoohoo)! Plus there were even more grey hairs coming through my dark hair standing out like banners saying 'You're 30 and life sucks, get used to it, old lady'! Life was quite challenging and my dark passenger (see my post Ghosts of the past) was having the time of his life filling me with dread and despair.

The next day, I called my stylist psychic friend. I told her what had happened. She told me she would deal with this D person. I gave her the number, but they refused to give her D's last name or number, but only gave her his email address. She told me to take pictures of the dress, and attach them to a subjective email to the designer in New York: This is how they sell your dresses at SC. I also sent a copy to SC.

        An original jewel as it should be

The bead they replace it with, plus a still empty claw on the left

The 'repaired' zip

My party two days later was small and intimate, I had some lovely, lovely friends there, and 6 cocktails, one of which I now make regularly at home and is wonderful. I have to say it turned out quite nice. It wasn't the lavish bash I had envisaged, but I had learned already not to let bad things ruin your good times. I had a good time.

The week after, I gained some confidence and became a little more resolute about the dress situation. I had researched online what my rights were. And it became quite clear that I had had every right to a refund when I asked for it the week before. It was my statutory right as a consumer. I emailed SC with links to the ACCC and Consumer Affairs Victoria websites, pointing out they were required by law to refund me. They told me I was welcome to come and meet D and the area manager to talk about the situation. I told them I wasn't interested in talking, I just wanted my money back. I did not hear from them again. So I wrote an official complaint to Consumer Affairs Victoria (CAV), with documents and photos. I also found out I could buy this dress online for US $378.

By this time it was early December. I had spoken to many people about my dress ordeal. And of course, to my stylist psychic friend. She told me it was obvious that I had some life lessons to learn, and this was my time. She asked me 'how often have you stood up for yourself?' And I realised that my life long desire to make everyone happy and keep the peace had me avoiding confrontation and I often ended up worse of for the sake of others. But this time, I wasn't going to back down. I was right, and I was going to fight. I did not want that dress anymore, I wanted my money back. I did not want that horrible man to have my $620.

Christmas eve, I got a call from a lady at CAV. She had been assigned my case! I was going to get someone mediating with SCh! And my mother was arriving for Christmas the next day, as Ash and I decided to pay for her ticket. Things were starting to look up. I accepted my life lesson and told it: 'bring it on!'

Early January, I get a letter from CAV. SC was sticking to their story. My next option was to go to Tribunal (hoorzitting in Dutch) and state my case. This was a scary thought. I was going to have to tell my part of the story in a courtroom-like situation, with D from SC probably there. I did not want to see that man or have to sit next to him. But I also did not want him to have my money, and me a faulty dress. I decided that yes, I will go to tribunal. Bring on that confrontation. So I called the lady from CAV and asked her what SC had told her in the first place.

She told me that they had told her that I had refused to produce my receipt, and that written on the back was a disclaimer or something rather about the faults in the dress. I had kept the receipt very safe and had never noticed any writing on it, plus I had sent them a photo of it with my first email with the other photos. So I had not refused to produce the receipt. Nonetheless, I pulled it out and saw that there was indeed nothing written on it. I took some pictures and emailed them to CAV. I didn't hear anything for quite a while, so I emailed them again. They had overlooked that email, and told them they would pass it on to SC. I still heard nothing back.

By this time it was late February  and I was a week or two away from going to Europe. While Mum was with us over Christmas I had decided that I was going to go to Europe to help her get her house ready for sale. I had also decided I had had enough of being a nanny and that I wanted to go back to uni. Having made those decisions felt really good. I had realised I had been incredibly flexible with the families I worked for, had always stayed longer if needed or arrived earlier, done whatever they asked and not really very often gotten very much reward in return. As an example, I always handmade Christmas presents for my children every year, plus given the parents a night of free babysitting, which easily is about 5 to 6 hours of work. Given that I am paid 20 dollars an hour, that's a gift of up to 120 dollars per family. I did get Christmas presents, but never ones worth the same as mine, nor did I get Christmas bonuses, or paid sick leave or holiday pay or anything. That was all included in my pay of 20 dollars an hour, plus I had to pay taxes, pay my own super, and there was also the fact that I sometimes used my own car for work, and spent a lot on phone calls and text messages for work. It really was, besides the love I got from my kiddies and the fun I had, not really that rewarding.  It was also quite lonely in a way, kids are great company, but they are incredibly egocentric (which is their good right) and I am keen to return to working in a team.

Anyhow, I left for Europe having informed CAV that I was going, without ever hearing anything back. So a week ago, I thought I would send them an email and ask whether there was any progress in the case. I thought it had been left and forgotten. But I got an email back informing me that SC were willing to offer me 300 dollar and let me keep the dress. I considered it carefully, talked to my friends about it and decided, no, that's not enough. I don't really want that dress any more (it's too fancy to wear to an ordinary party, and unfortunately, I do not often attend extraordinary parties) and I don't want have still paid $320 for a badly repaired dress. So I emailed back saying I might accept $450 plus the dress repaired by an alterations person of my choice, or if they don't accept, I would see them at Tribunal.

This morning, very early (time zones) I received an email back, informing me that VAC would inform SC of my counter offer. She also informed me that when SC offered the 300 dollar refund for keeping the dress, they had also offered 500 dollars for returning the dress.

This, my dear readers, is where I started laughing. It was around 4.15 am, I had gotten up to use the toilet, noticed an email on my iPod and read that email. I could not get over my amazement. I was utterly astounded.
If I see it correctly, they are willing to buy back for $500 a dress that cost me $620 and haven't worn, add to that six months of grief to get any money at all, not taking into consideration 6 months of interest on $620. Yeah, right! I found it hilarious that after my tenacious attempts of getting a full refund, they think that I would accept $500, in effect paying them $120 dollar for renting me a dress I couldn't wear, with faults in it, and for treating me horribly and making me out to be a liar. Not happening, mon frère. Tribunal, I am ready and able.

I am today so amused by this turn of events, I feel tempted to skip the Tribunal and take it straight to the media. Just to inform other consumers of the length this company will go to to hang on to my money. They lied, they made up stories about the receipt, and most of all, denied me a statutory right. I am sure A Current Affair or Today Tonight would love to hear about this company. If SC are jumping through hoops to keep my money, I will give them a media circus to perform their tricks in! I am one well spoken, strong and feisty piece of work and I am almost certainly able to deal that company one hell of a financial blow. But, for now, I shall see if they are willing to accept my current offer of giving me $450 and paying to have it repaired properly. If they do accept, I might just change my mind and say that I would rather sell my story to the media. I shall see.

So, how does this dress relate to being 30? It's a freakin' mess when you look closely but you still feel awesome in it.

Thanks to the universe and its mystical powers, I have learnt a big lesson at 30. Do not always try to keep the peace, when in actual fact, there will be peace for other people but not in your own heart. Do not please other people at the expense of your own happiness. Say No. N. O. Nah-ah. Nope, nay, never. Say yes to making other people happy (make/buy them a present!) but do it only if you get something (love, love, love! smiles, hugs, giggles) in return. A-MEN! Hallelujah!

Thanks for reading, and congratulations for making it to the end.