You have to feel a little bad for Sears. Once the dominant retailer in America—its mail-order catalogs sold just about everything up to and including houses—the company, after a rough number of years, finally filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy last October. Exactly zero people were surprised. Interestingly, about three weeks before Sears filed for bankruptcy protection, I bought something from the company for probably the first and only time in my adult life—a replacement refrigerator for one of my rental units in New York.
Was I—or, specifically, my purchase—the straw that broke the camel’s back? Maybe. If my transaction was any indication, Sears was clearly not living beneath its means. And that bodes as well for companies as it does for people.
Why Sears, you ask? In a word—width.
I’ve worked for a lot of different companies and, despite all the dollars thrown at branding and marketing, I’ve learned that most people base their purchase decisions on quotidian reasons like, The fridge fit the space. Or, It was cheaper.
My first job out of college was in Marketing for a large food company that sold products under some very well-known brands, but even there, you’d often come to the dispiriting realization that people really loved our products … when they were on sale. I mean, I get it now, but when you’re 22 and charged with strengthening the emotional connection between man and marshmallow cereal, you can feel a bit like a failure when all your efforts fall flat thanks to a competitor’s ill-timed Buy One, Get One deal.
Which is all a roundabout way of telling you that Sears really didn’t need to entice me with 400,000—not a typo—Shop Your Way bonus points to buy the 24.25” x 28” x 61.75”—yaaaaas!—unit. Not being a Sears shopper, I didn’t even know what Shop Your Way points were, and they certainly didn’t factor into my purchase decision. Plus, if you’re giving me 400,000 of any kind of currency for no good reason—Venezuela, I’m looking at you—well, I’m pretty sure they’re not anything to get too excited about.
After the bankruptcy announcement, I went back to the retailer’s website to see what would happen to the Sears 3-Year In-Home Protection Agreement I bought along with the refrigerator, in the event that Sears itself wasn’t actually around in three years time. Once there, I noticed a little note on my account saying I had $39 and change in points to use. Hmm. Thirty-nine dollars I understand. I clicked and read a little more and … gals. When I bought that $450 refrigerator in September, the geniuses at Sears gave me $400. For realz.
Granted, it is not easy for the LBYMer to use these points—there is actually an article on the Interweb entitled, How to buy stuff that doesn’t suck with Shop Your Way Rewards 😆. The $400 is meted out over 12 months … and the $33.33 expires each month if you don’t spend it … and, oh, did I mention I can’t use the points for shipping? Still, if this is how they’re running the proverbial store, I can’t believe the company managed to limp along as long as it did.
Think you can’t get something for nothing? Hold my Diet Pepsi.
I follow a few simple rules in using the points. I only buy things we need, points notwithstanding. I don’t buy things I can get at the happiest place on earth (i.e. my favorite thrift store) and the shipping can’t cost more than the item itself would elsewhere. You’d be surprised how often something gets removed from the shopping cart because of the latter. It helps to be flexible about … everything. So far, I’ve bought winter boots, sneakers for two of my kids, some dish towels, a new Crock-Pot to replace the wedding gift that finally died, and a whole bunch of kitchen utensils.
I have eight more months to go. Did I bankrupt Sears? Probably not. But I certainly didn’t help.