At this branded handmade cosmetics outlet, the welcome is skin-deep.
There is a popular belief that Indians no longer need to shop abroad. Everything is available here, so why lug stuff from abroad? Yes, lots of popular brands at different price points have set up shop here, but what most of them have forgotten to do is to give us an international shopping experience. I mulled these matters as I walked out of an outlet of Lush, an international chain of “handmade” cosmetics, after yet another disappointing experience.
When I entered the Lush outlet at Select Citywalk mall, New Delhi, no one was there apart from two salespersons. One walked towards me and smiled, ready to help the early customer. I pointed at the rack nearest the door and asked her to explain what was stocked on it. She did so without being able to point out the benefits of the various products. A clear failure, as Lush’s entire USP is that their cosmetics are full of goodness. I asked to try one of the soaps. The sales girl refused, saying there weren’t any testers.
I insisted. She gave in and took me towards a washbasin where the tap wasn’t properly fixed. There was also a duster next to the washbasin. This is far from what you expect in a store that sells moisturising cream for about Rs 1,400. Selling everyday necessities like body lotion at prices reserved for rare commodities should take place in total comfort. Negotiating a broken tap and semi-clean washbasin to try a soap isn’t my idea of fun.
Hands clean and wet, I asked for tissue paper. “There is no tissue paper,” was the answer. “Why not?” I enquired. “We haven’t got fresh supplies,” was the defence. Instead, I was handed some cotton wool. This edition of retail therapy was rapidly going down the tube. The salesgirl’s limited knowledge was further exposed when we reached the section where “bricks” of henna were kept.
As I picked up one, she said, unprompted, “You need to keep this on for 20 minutes.” The other salesgirl intervened and said: “Actually you need to keep this on for two hours.” “Why didn’t your colleague know that?” I asked. “Oh, she must have got mixed up with some other product,” was the breezy response.
The product, Caca Noir Henna, needs to be kept on for two hours at least for hair to catch colour. Caca Noir Henna (caca, incidentally, is French for “shit”) lists black henna as one of its key ingredients. “There is no such thing as black henna,” I said to salesgirl number two. She didn’t have an answer. The Lush website says that Caca Noir Henna contains indigo, which gives it the dark colour instead of the reddish tint associated with henna. Then the salesgirl added, thinking she was making the ultimate sales pitch, “I can’t guarantee colour after you use this, but it will condition your hair.” The product is priced at Rs 850. Henna bought at the local kirana store at one fourth that price can guarantee colour. The paper bag in which you get your Lush products has a list of things which the company believes in. Belief in providing the best service in new markets should be added to it.
By the next morning, when I unwrapped the Caca Noir Henna and Seanik Solid Shampoo (bought at a considerable price) to use them, the wrapper for Caca Noir Henna had become green and greasy. I worried how I would store the remaining squares for future use. Lush doesn’t believe in packaging, but products do need to come with some packaging so that they don’t get spoilt. Using Caca Noir Henna was a messy business, but it did colour my few strands of grey, leaving my hair smooth and manageable. The Seanik Solid Shampoo was easy to use.
If Lush is serious about its India business it needs to overhaul its staff training programme. An Ill-informed staff doesn’t make for a lush experience.
Score: 4/10. The products seem promising, but the staff lets down the brand
|
Note: Mystery Guest is a reality consumer survey in which reporters analyse a service anonymously. We welcome company responses as feedback and will be happy to carry rejoinders to any piece featured here. |
