Chapter 7-Tryouts for the Big Leagues

The first week in October, we finally met with Doris in Texas, at the Manheim’s store in Dallas, but not before a migraine almost put Jude out of commission. This time, we actually would have been on time to our meeting with Doris, had the airport bath¬room emergency not occurred.
It might have been Jude’s enthusiasm or even a bit of stress over our first meeting with someone so powerful, but as the plane was about to land, she started complaining of a headache and not just any headache.
We made it to the restroom in the terminal and I spent the next hour applying a cold, wet towel to the back of her neck and to her forehead. Then she started throwing up. I couldn’t remember ever being that helpless, and she had nothing to take for it. We just had to wait it out.
After an hour, it subsided enough for us to find a taxi and make our way to Manheim’s. Doris’ first reaction was a large smile and then congratulatory handshakes.
“I love them,” she said. “I think they’ll be perfect for us.”
I was amazed at how small her office was considering her posi¬tion. It seemed to us that she held the keys to our financial existence and here she was holding court in a tiny 10 foot by 10 foot room, cluttered with boxes of jewelry, file folders, magazines, and old McDonald’s food wrappers. She appeared to be very dis¬organized.
However, visions of sugarplums danced in our heads. We were in, and I was already counting the booty when Doris said, “Of course, we’ll have to try you out first at a couple of trunk shows.”
Huh? I thought tryouts were for major league baseball. And what in the world is a trunk show?
“Oh, I can see you girls are a little mystified,” Doris offered. “A trunk show is where you bring your line into a store and we do a bit of promoting to let people know you’re there and that you have wonderful jewelry, and then we see how it sells and how you do with the people,” she said as she fidgeted with several files on her desk, seemingly in search of something lost.
Well, I supposed that made sense. After all, this was the major leagues for us.
“Once we see how you do in those two shows, we’ll make our decision whether to buy or not. That’s how it works, girls.”
Without escorting us out, or saying goodbye, she turned and began to rummage through more files on her credenza. Every time we saw her after that, she always seemed to be looking for a termi¬nally lost article of some sort.
We were left with the feeling that though promising, we were just two more hungry designers who would give an arm to be accepted into the Manheim family. She was polite but distracted, we thought. Nevertheless, we walked away on clouds.
Our first show was in Dallas because that was the flagship store—where it all started. It was nerve-racking but at the same time thrilling—our first little taste of celebrity. As we came into the jew¬elry department, we noticed right away that the store had produced posters of us and our company logo and hung them on walls around the area—a very nice touch that gave us an immediate boost.
It was the typical Manheim’s store: marble floors polished to a high luster, lots of open space, bright, but reserved, clean as a sur¬gical room filled with the crème de la crème of everything and plenty of things not found “anywhere” else, one of their trademarks.
It was close to opening time as we set up our line, smiled, and sort of milled around, not knowing exactly what to do. I continu¬ally picked up our pieces and pretended to polish them a bit with a cloth, trying to look busy, while Jude checked and rechecked her makeup, and paced. We both felt a bit like street vendors hawking their wares on a deserted street corner. After several hours passed with next to no customers, we began to worry. It was so quiet, we could have had bowling practice down the aisles.
As the day progressed, we sold a few pieces, but that seemed dismal, especially since Doris had told us a little fib. She said that the corporate office expected us to sell $20,000 worth that day— it was pretty much standard, she told us.
By noon, that seemed insurmountable and by two in the after¬noon, it felt downright ridiculous. It was one thing to fail in a store filled with customers, quite another to miss the mark because everyone in Dallas decided to spend the hot afternoon indoors watching the Cowboys on TV.
We panicked. By three in the afternoon, we figured we might have sold a few thousand dollars worth at best. That’s when the idea hit. I’d have our friends help us along a bit. I told Jude to get on her cell phone and start calling everyone we knew in Dallas to come in and buy something, anything—and they did. It was amazing and that’s when the most extraordinary thing happened. When I told one of my best friends about our plight, she said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea. Describe to me your most expen¬sive piece.” It was a $6,000 bracelet.
About 45 minutes later, one of the salesclerks came over to us and said the most remarkable thing had just occurred. A man had called from Newport Beach directly to the jewelry department. The salesgirl had taken his call. He told her that his wife was on a busi¬ness trip in Dallas and had seen a JudeFrances piece she absolutely had to have. The man then went on to describe that piece in per¬fect detail, adding that his wife had left her credit card in her luggage, was on her way to the airport, and asked him if he wouldn’t be a doll by calling the store to purchase it for her, using his card.
We sold the piece and the store shipped it directly to him.
The show turned out to be a monumental success, not just because of our dear friends, whom we give enormous amounts of gratitude, but to the fact that at around four that afternoon, foot traffic suddenly and inexplicably picked up.
Not only did our friends boost our sales, their presence attracted a lot of attention and energy, but by the end of the day, we’d also sold $17,000 worth of jewelry. We should have been ecstatic. Instead, we felt dejected; we hadn’t reached even the average mark of $20,000. That’s when Doris came over and revealed to us that she’d fibbed. They actually only expected us to sell $10,000. We were beside ourselves!
Our next show was in late November, held in Beverly Hills, closer to home. Once again, the store looked like a ghost town. I started to think that maybe we should bring a Parcheesi game on our next visit, to pass the time. However, on this occasion, there was a more plausible answer. It was Monday, the day following the big After Thanksgiving Day sales weekend. Everyone had already blown their wads. We didn’t have a choice. It was once again time to hit the cell phones and, again, our friends came through like troopers. The Manheim’s family immediately took us in when we ended the day with a with a $15,000 showing.
THE ONL Y DRA WBACK W A S that we had to buy the $6,000 bracelet back from our friend’s husband from the Dallas show. As Jude was trying to figure out how to put it on her Visa, we got a call from the buyer, Bill, who said, “Not to worry. Take your time. Pay me when you can.”
God, aren’t friends the best thing in the world?
It took us four months to pay him back. However, he gave the piece back to us right away and we managed to sell it to another friend just before the final payment was due to Bill.