Unproved assertions destroy confidence.—Suppose you are trying to sell a table with mahogany-veneer top and red gum legs. To call it a mahogany table will lose the sale immediately, if the customer knows woods. To say that it has a mahogany-veneer top and mahogany finish gum legs may suggest to the buyer that a veneer is a poor substitute for solid wood, and that gum cannot be desirable if it must be finished to look like something else. To ignore the whole matter of materials and construction and to try to sell the table on its beauty and fitness alone may cause the customer to wonder just what you are trying to conceal, which will mean loss of confidence in yourself and your merchandise.
The wise course is to tell the entire truth about the piece in a perfectly matter-of-fact way designed to avoid any invidious comparisons of woods or processes. For example: "This table whose design and coloring you so much admire is as sturdy as it is good looking. Following the practice of some old eighteenth century cabinetmakers, the maker of this piece has combined several woods. Those used in the top are built into the modern five-ply construction, which brings out the full beauty of grain of the mahogany upper ply, ensures freedom from any danger of warping or splitting, and provides the strength of steel. For the legs he has used the beautiful straight-grained red gum of the South."
It is a costly folly to try to sell one material or process by condemning another. We show a table, for example, and speak of "solid American walnut" as if no other wood or construction were worthy of consideration; and 5 minutes later, finding that we have misjudged her price level, we stammer and stumble over an attempt to convince her that plywood is an acceptable substitute.
These are the dangerous devices of mental laziness. When a customer asks us if mahogany is better than birch, or Axminster carpets better than velvets, or solid construction better than veneer, a positive answer is misleading. We certainly should know that mahogany, like birch, varies in excellence according to the individual board; that some Axminsters are better than some velvets, and vice versa; and that the construction is best which best meets the particular requirements of design and purpose, in furniture precisely as in shoes or ships.
The fact is that everything used in making home furnishings of worthy quality has stood the test of time, and therefore is interesting and desirable in its own right. If we cannot make it seem so to customers, we have not learned enough about it.
In selling materials and construction, repetition is needed.—We must be governed by the results of our preliminary talk in picking out for emphasis the particular points which promise to be of interest to each customer. Having made these points, we sometimes need to repeat them, in varying language and in different parts of our sales talk. Moreover, we must never forget that many things which are as familiar to us as the multiplication table are strange to our customers, and therefore difficult to remember.
We know, for example, that concealed differences in construction may make one easy chair worth twice as much as another of identical appearance; that in sliced walnut veneers, figured woods may cost 5 or 10 times as much as plain; but most buyers do not know such things. Accordingly, if we merely state such facts, but fail to groove a memory channel by one or more repetitions, there is an excellent chance that even the customer who wants and can afford good things will look elsewhere, completely forget what we have told her, and buy a cheaper article in the honest belief that she is getting something equally good. What too often happens is that in building up the value of our merchandise we fail to fix the facts in the customer's mind.
Treat merchandise carefully, and show it under the most favorable conditions.—It is self evident that valuable merchandise must be so handled as to imply that it is of distinguished excellence.
Respect in handling inspires respect.—A woman will not buy an article unless and until she has identified it with herself—conceived of it as belonging to herself, and in her own home. Suppose that we are showing her a length of drapery fabric. If we crush it, or handle it as if it were calico or cheesecloth, or chance to step on it before she makes this unconscious identification with herself, she will think less of it; if after, she will think less of us. Either reaction will be harmful.