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Hamptons Diary — Randall Hemming: The Inheritance
A high end Hamptons store, a high maintenance family, and the clutch decision that revealed family dynamics — East Hampton’s Randall Hemming shares another story from his personal series Re-Tales from Retail, from the world of luxury retail.
The Inheritance
My unsuspecting introduction into family dysfunction happened one summer in the Devi Kroell boutique in East Hampton. Our brand specialized in handbags made of exotic skins, but it also proved to be a laboratory of human experience.
One Saturday afternoon, a customer who I immediately recognized from her past visits came into the store. She was accompanied by her husband and two children, her daughter, who appeared to be in her early teens, and her young son. The boy immediately plopped down in a chair and continued his laser focus on his iPad. Her husband sat in the other chair and perfected a portrait of complete boredom.
I started to chat with the mother, asking how long they would be staying in the Hamptons this summer and what was on their agenda for the weekend, etc.
Not everyone loves shopping
After a short time, the husband stood up and announced he was taking the boy and going outside to sit on the park bench in front of the store. Apparently, he had had enough of our inane chatter and would rather spend his time watching the pedestrian parade.
As the mother focused on an accordion clutch, the daughter sprawled into a chair like a beached jellyfish. When I tried to engage her in conversation, she replied she was exhausted from her morning horseback riding lessons.
At this moment, my customer asked me to explain the design inspiration and fabrication of a bag she was holding. I replied this particular clutch was from our “Classics Collection” showcased in alabaster python and was the quintessential summer bag. She then asked if she could take it outside to show her husband to ensure that her selection met with his approval.
Be careful what you ask for
Their brief interaction consisted of her presenting the potential acquisition followed by a wave of his hand signaling he couldn’t care less about her decision. She excitedly reentered the store and announced those magic words: “I’ll take it!” “Wonderful!” I replied while walking to the register, saying, “That will be $2,500,” as she handed me her black American Express card.
As I gathered her customer information, she turned to her daughter who was now generating a hostile aura and enthusiastically asked, “Honey, do you like mommy’s new bag?” to which the daughter hissed derisively: “I hate that bag!”
“Oh, honey, why do you hate mommy’s bag. Mommy loves her bag…it’s a beautiful bag…why do you hate it?”
“Because, mother, someday you’re going to die and I will inherit everything you own. I hate that bag!”
Silence descended slowly from the ceiling as I scanned the mother and then back to my new teenage enemy. Looking directly into my customer’s wounded eyes, I said: “This clutch is one of our best sellers and it will be your new go-to bag for this summer.”
Slowly, the world resumed spinning on its axis. I completed the transaction and handed her the shopping bag. Escorting them to the door I said: “I hope to see you again soon.”
However, after this “incident,” she did not return that season. Nor did she come back the following year. My secret wish is that she divorced her totally “entitled” family.
