Evans & #Bootgate continued ...

I promise, no more boot-based posts or tweets after this. I'm fed up of me. However I got the following email just now:

Hi Louise,

I am sorry to hear that you wish to decline the offer of £25.00 and are not happy with our goodwill gesture. Unfortunately we feel that this offer is appropriate to the nature of your complaint and are unable to increase this offer any further.

We are still looking into any information from the couriers and will update you once we have received a response from them in regards to the parcel being returned to us.

Kind Regards,
Evans Customer Services

To which I have responded:

Actually, the reason I keep declining your goodwill gestures is not because of the amount, but because of their content. I've made it perfectly clear on several occasions that I no longer wish to be a customer of yours because of the way I've been treated in the preceding four days.

Any "goodwill gesture" from any company where the offended party is then tied into further transactions with the organisation that has caused offence are something everyone should routinely reject.

It's not a goodwill gesture for you to ask me for more money (the offer of a 10% discount on a "next purchase"). It is not a goodwill gesture for a company to offer something that is, essentially, worthless (a £10 gift card) without me spending money of my own. A goodwill gesture is something that doesn't rely on me having to become a customer again, as it is the very act of being one of your customers that has caused the problem on this occasion. I'm not complaining about a faulty product, or a bit of upset caused by a thoughtless comment from a staff member, this little problem has cost me in the region of £350 when you add in lost work, the cost of other items I have had to buy to make up for your lack of delivery on this occasion, not to mention the hours (and I mean that literally) I've had to put into these emails, and my blogpost to get your company to take my situation seriously.

So, as a compromise, I suggest this: If you want to make a "goodwill gesture", then actually *make* a gesture. One that will engender actual, real, genuine and sincere goodwill. Send some flowers, make a donation to charity (I'll choose it if you like), apologise publicly, or something - anything! - but, whatever you or your boss decides to do, just do something that isn't merely a "Here's a voucher, now go buy something else from us and get out of our hair"-shaped "gesture", please.

 

I'll edit this post later if they respond.  Many thanks to everyone for the tweets, DMs, Facebook messages and emails I've had regarding this morning's blog post, I've really appreciated the support today! I don't normally worry about pressing publish, but today I did. I'm glad I didn't have to...

Edited to add:

They changed their offer from a £25 "gift" card to a £25 cheque.  I have accepted this, and will donate it to charity.

The boots are still, at the time of writing, "with the courier for delivery".

I will never shop at Evans Online again.

This post: Evans & #Bootgate Continued  originated at: Get Lippie All rights reserved. If you are not reading this post at Get Lippie, then this content has been stolen by a scraper

Dear Evans Clothing & Hermes ...

 (Warning, not really a beauty-related post, it contains intense self-deprecation, a bit of a rant, and some stupid acronyms.  If you want something a bit fluffy, might be best to look elsewhere today.  Also, it's very long.  Might be best to read something else.  No, seriously, nothing to see here. Not really.)

Dear Evans and Hermes,

Your two companies are a match made in hell, and you need a divorce.  I'll explain why later, but for now, let me tell you a tale of woe ...

Let's get one thing out of the way, I am fat.  There's no two ways around it, I'm a fat person.  I'm not particularly bothered by it (and I'm less fat than I used to be these days, anyway), I'm fairly pleasant looking from the neck up, I've got a cracking rack - we shall not discuss my mid-section, lest it get bogged down in complaints about my recent kidney problems - my thighs don't bother me in the slightest, but from the knees down it's nothing but grief.  I've written about my feet, and the constant pain I'm in, before, and about how shoe shopping is possibly my least favourite thing to do in the entire world.  

However, there is only one thing on the planet that ever reduces me to hot, salty, snot-bubbling tears of inchoate rage and sheer impotent frustration in seconds flat, faster than shoe-shopping, and that is boot-shopping.

For, underneath the blubber that a lifetime of worship at the temple of the goddess of lard has created on my frame, I have tiny bones.  My feet are a size four and a half, five at the most, and I have the handspan of the average pre-teen.  I'm not very tall, either.  Boots, even Duo of Bath (who I once travelled across the country to visit when they had only one store, only to find that the only pair that I could fit into made me look like a midget pirate.  Not a good look for an accountant, frankly) find the concept of small feet/big calves hard to deal with.  As do I, frankly.  I often see women larger than myself  (I'm a size 18 at the moment, down from a 22 recently, and soon to be a 16, thank you, Slimming World) wearing boots quite happily, and I am reduced to frothing with searing jealousy that THEY can wear boots, and I, thanks to the Enormo-Calves of Doom (E-CoD for short), cannot.

I used to have a pair of boots.  All-elastic, they were, with a block heel, and I loved them.  I loved them, even though they had a tendency to roll down throughout the day, and I'd end up wearing elasticated ankle-warmers.  I need elastic in my boots (something Duo boots tend not to contain much of), to cope with the sudden change in size between my relatively slim ankles and the aforementioned E-CoD.  I've tried on boots in bigger sizes - say, size eight - and managed to fasten them with no problems whatsoever, but I can't cope with padding boots up to four sizes too big, I wouldn't be able to walk!

Writing this, I'm aware, suddenly, that my ideal pair of boots is essentially a thick-soled pair of flat shoes, with a squareish toe-box, and a leather shin-pad, finished off at the back with what is, essentially, a black compression bandage.  Hmn ... sexy ...

Actually, maybe not that bad:

Anyway, "how does this involve Evans and Hermes?" I hear you cry.  Don't worry, I'm getting there. Simply put, the thing is that I want to wear boots.  I'm tired of only being able to wear trousers and shoes.  It's dull, and I'm frumpy as a result.  I want to add skirts to my wardrobe, and not freeze to death (even thermal tights only do so much).  I was invited to be a guest speaker at a blogging conference this weekend, alongside some fashion bloggers - more about this later on in the week - and I wanted to wear something ... snazzy.  I discovered a dress I'd bought some time ago in the dim and distant recesses of my wardrobe, found myself a little sequinned jacket, and knew what would finish it off nicely ...

... Boots.

I am an IDIOT.  Having recently lost a bit of weight, I thought this year would be the year of boots.  Correspondingly, I ordered myself a pair from Evans, at 12:49 on Wednesday 7th,  as their next day delivery costs only £5.  Never have I been made more aware that you get what you pay for - or, as in my case, you don't, actually, get anything that you've paid for.  Naively, I thought ordering something to arrive via next day delivery would allow me to get the boots to finish my outfit in good  enough time to try them, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them.

I am an IDIOT (and I'm bored of writing this now). So anyway, the upshot is that the boots never arrived.  In fact, at the time of writing, they still haven't arrived.  Apparently, (according to their website) Hermes tried to deliver at 1524 on Thursday 8th, at 1949 on Friday 9th, and 1800 on Saturday 10th (long after I'd asked Evans to cancel the delivery, by this point).

Yeah, right

Hermes are lying. Or their courier is, rather.

How do I know?  MrLippie was home at all those times, (I was only home for the Friday "visit") and no one knocked on our door, rang our bell, or even ... left a card to say they'd called. UPS left a card to say they'd tried to deliver to someone else in the building, and, all the rest of our post arrived, so clearly, other companies know how doorbells work.

I spoke to Evans on Twitter last Thursday who put their customer service team onto what happened (who thanked me for my comments on Facebook - at least *read* your complaints, please), as, according to the Hermes website, all my complaints, requests and queries have to go through the company I made the order through. And, I have to say that I've been patronised by one particular Evans employee ever since.  Two people have dealt with my complaint, one has been fine, and the other one  ... well. I'm not going to go into it much, but suffice it to say that every email from Evans customer services made me feel worse about having placed my order with them, rather than better.  Yes, I've been angry. Yes, I've broken out the caps lock. But when the initial response to your complaint isn't even addressing your complaint properly, well, it's simply not good enough, frankly.

Evans are sorry, apparently, that I "feel" like no delivery has been attempted.  Well, Evans,  I'm sorry that your courier company have lied not once, not twice, but (at the time of writing) three times, both to me, and to you.  They've cost you a customer.  And I suspect I'm not alone - my twitter followers are full of horror stories about Hermes and their "delivery" service.  I, for one, am refusing to shop online with anyone who uses them. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on you.  Fool me three times ... we are done.

I wore yoga shoes to my event.  Thanks, Clarks ;)

Share your home-delivery nightmare stories here, I'd love to hear them.


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