I went sherwani shopping in Mumbai last week. My experience in the first shop that I walked into went a bit like this. “Can you please wait for a few minutes, sir? All our staff are on a tea break”. A few minutes later, a rather large, tattooed man who had obviously been pulled away from his dalliance with a teacup arrived. “Can you show me some ready-made Sherwani’s please…”. A terse “readymade not available,” and he headed back to his tea, and I left the shop.
The subtle art of selling is hidden like a pearl inside excellent service. I was reminded of this wisdom by two salespeople. One bored and preoccupied, the other, brilliant and engaging.
The second store I stepped into was another story altogether. I walked in and was greeted with a smile by the first person we met. “Where can I get a Sherwani?” Pat came the answer, third floor, sir. The third floor was spacious, had nice seating areas, and some lovely clothes on display. A salesperson, whose name I later learned (Vikram), approached me with a “How can I help you, sir?” I told him what I was looking for. He stepped back, sized me up, and said Chest 46”, let me get you some pieces to try on.
He did not lead with “Sorry, ready-made not available” like the other store. He got me to try on a few, engaged me, and then slipped in the fact that ready-made is unlikely, but he would try. Vikram called out to a colleague – go downstairs and find all the size 46 chest pieces available and bring them upstairs. (He could have sent me to the first floor. Instead, he sat me down and engaged me in a conversation, seeking to understand what occasion I was shopping for.
Half an hour later, I was sold on a particular outfit. At this stage, “Master Ji,” the head tailor, was summoned to take my measurements. With a smile and just the right touch of humour, Vikram chimed in. “Sir, your bank balance is showing just a little bit,” pointing to the prosperous midriff that midlife has gifted me. Master Ji decided that a few inches of adjustment would make me comfortable. Photographs are not normally allowed, sir, but you can take one, was the clincher. I now felt truly special. Swiping my credit card was all that was left to do.
To sell, one must be of service. If I can offer that service with a positive attitude, a smile, and a bit of humour, then I will always have a steady stream of customers.
In a completely different context, I was listening to a podcast on coaching, which brought home a related point. The importance of meeting the customer where they are. The subject covered was how systemic coaching and constellation work integrate to create magic in an organisational context. But the secret sauce was not to go in with the pre-defined program. Instead, learn to create the container of safety and trust. Once the customer is ready to open up, the possibilities emerge.
I was lucky to have had this seed of an idea planted in my head, just ahead of a crisis preparedness workshop that I am co-creating with a client. The need to listen, understand their unique need, and deliver value, outweighs my desire to offer the whole 9 yards. Cutting the cloth to suit the occasion and then allowing what needs to emerge to emerge is all I need to remember.
The amazing Vikram knew this. He made me feel welcomed, comfortable, and safe. He held my hand through the process, and then, when I was ready, closing the sale was a cakewalk. For him, it was a sale; for me, it was a reliable solution. One that made me feel good about myself.
Focus on your customer. Listen to them. Ask questions. Find out what they need solved, and the sale is yours. It’s as simple or as difficult as that. If you want to grow your bank balance, you need to know how to tell your customer at just the right time and in just the right tone, “your bank balance is showing”.
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