Federal (Crime) Express- I guess postal carriers like lingerie too

Every day in business breeds a new set of challenges, a new reason for a nervous breakdown, something else to keep you up at night. On Thursday after a relatively good day in business, I received a call that all of the packages we had shipped on the previous Saturday (thankfully not the busiest of days), had been stolen... Actually the packages had been opened, all of the contents removed, sort of resealed and shipped on their way...

WTF (cover your ears readers for all sort of unholy profanities were exclaimed)!!!!!

I swore, I almost had a heart attack when I realized that we were sold out of many of these items (thanks Urban Daddy) making them irreplaceable or at the very least on backorder, I was extremely loud but polite to our fed ex rep hoping one of the two mannerisms would result in our packages being found... to no avail.

Then I breathed deep yoga like breaths over and over again until I was able to speak at a normal decibel. When I was ready, I began calling and emailing the customers effected, offered replacements and discounts and tried my best to give them the customer service that they deserve. (I still feel incredibly guilty that they trusted us with their valuable orders and this is what happened).

When I finished, I called my bestest gay husband who is the head of sales for a lovely French fashion company. Then I began the rant all over again- "Can you believe this happened??? Who do they think they are??? Isn't this the craziest thing you ever heard???

He listened politely (which is extremely rare for him), and then softly chuckled and said "Welcome to fashion. You're in business now and it aint so glamorous, is it?"

No, it's not. It's is beautiful but tough... just like us.

XOXO
Dames and Broads

P.S. Got a call from one of our lingerie vendors in Canada--- our next shipment will be incomplete because all of their 36Cs were stolen off of a truck... HERE WE GO AGAIN. :)

New year, Newly single and Newer lingerie

This year I gave myself the gift of the single life for Christmas. Because we are all the lord's children I will refrain from saying anything negative about him. I wish him health, happiness and whatever else comes to his kind. I will leave a little older, much less naive and with a few nice pieces of jewelry. Thanks for the memories!

I am also moving on with a few more pounds and some emotional baggage that will no longer fit in my carry on. So needless to say that I have some things to work off and through before I will be ready for whatever is out there waiting for me.

I was twenty six and a 34C the last time I was truly single and I have no idea what it will be like dating in my thirties. Now a 36D and 30 years young, I feel completely unprepared for the world I am entering. I don't know how to flirt or internet date or have casual sex or if I am supposed to do any of those things. With Sex and the City off the air and all my friends in relationships or just as clueless as me, I have no guides on how to proceed. I feel terrified, and excited, and apprehensive, and damaged, and reborn, and hurt, and angry, and destroyed, and free and extremely prone to writing long run-on sentences.

What's a newly single, not feeling so fabulous, bigger breasted girl to do?

I went lingerie shopping. More accurately, i went f%ck that lying bastard, you will never get to see me in any of this but the next guy(s) will absolutely love it, can't wait to be over him, you hurt me so bad i am going to do something incredibly inappropriate in this, my larger D cups look better in this bra anyway, I might just answer the door in this, i don't really care that we are in a recession, good old fashioned lingerie shopping.

And hundred of dollars and a few yards of silk satin and antique lace later, I felt better. Its still hard to sleep through the night. But every morning I wake up to drawers full of something that makes me feel pretty instead of .... him. For now, it will do.

The pics above are the pieces in case you want to see what I bought. (Myla Simone, Myla Nicole, and Sista Shei Blossom)

I hope to one day soon sell other ladies a little bit of comfort...

Dames and Broads lingerie.... Feb 08

Lingerie PR

What happens when you are still passionate about your business but absolutely sick of talking about it? You break down and hire a publicist...

I still love the lingerie business. I still think my offerings are going to knock your socks (and hopefully your Hanky Pankies) off. I am just sick of telling you about it. Besides, we are past the sexy part. If you are my friend in real life or just on Facebook, you probably have already seen web site mocks, you heard all our globe trotting stories about the the great pieces we have found, you have seen logos and brand identity images. But now I am mired down in Fed Ex paperwork, projection forecasts, and accounts receivables. Trust me, you probably don't even want to talk to me right now. I am officially no fun. So I am hiring a publicist to be fun on my behalf.

I will let her tell you all about the differences between American and English lingerie, about why you deserve better than rayon and why your bottom will be writing us thank you letters after being softly caressed by our silk panties. I, frankly don't have the time. She can go though the motions of teaching men to stop buying crotchless panties for Valentine's day via media outlets while I simply roll my eyes and write them off as hopeless. See?! This will be better for the both of us.

Since I have the honor of being based in NYC, I can't swing a chanel bag without hitting a PR girl in her well coiffed and often blond head. But the question is, can I swing the monthly monetary commitment that it will take to get her to extol the virtues of Dames and Broads to all the glossies and blogs?

Don't get me wrong, there is money in the D&B coffers but the salesperson in me is only interested in marketing that directly results in sales and my inner control freak is terrified to hand over our brand identity to a stranger. But perhaps it is time to relinquish my grip on my wallet and let's somebody else do the talking. Anything that would allow me just a bit of time to shut up...

The bridal lingerie is not for me...

Last week I went to get my hair blown out at my local salon. I forgot my typical business books, magazines, and how to start a lingerie business for dummies guides and was forced to read the supplied beauty rags. I was too slow and unwilling to fight for a withered Glamour from 2006, so I took the only mag left: NY magazine, the wedding edition. I flipped through the pictures of couples getting married at the Central Park Zoo, the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, the Natural History Museum. One couple even had the balls to shut down the meat packing district so they could wed on its cobble stone streets.

It was the black and white pics on those cobble stone streets that did it. I started to cry. Hysterically. Under the dryer.

Perhaps this happens all the time to NY women or maybe the ladies in the salon decided to take pity on me. Everyone kindly ignored me except for the owner of the establishment, who brought me a tissue, patted me gently on the shoulder and told me I had 10 more minutes until I was dry.

Somedays I cant decide if this business is the reason I am alone or the thing that keeps me from feeling lonely. It takes up a lot of space.

Sometimes I can't remember if this is really my dream or if it is just the backup plan to a dream defferred. The emotional equivalent of adding something to a "to do" list just so I can have something to check off.

Today I am tired. But everyday cant be rainbows and puppies.