Never Judge a Client by Her Linen Pants
Some Business Lessons From My Latest Hair and Nails Day
We’re off on our family babymoon tomorrow, which naturally means a last-minute hair and nails day. What was only booked to be a French manicure and a trim turned out to be a massive reminder of what I’ve learned in business over the last 10 years.
Though I’ve taken a mommy sabbatical from publishing, today made me realize just how expensive my entrepreneurial education has been. And just how valuable it might be to someone else. Today, I want to pass some of it on.
I’ll start by sharing my day. I’ve had two very contrasting experiences between the nail salon I visited this morning and the hair salon my appointment took me to… at night. (You read that right.)
I’ve been pinning some neutral nails for our upcoming trip that will take me through month six of my pregnancy. I wanted something classy and short enough to make my debut as a mommy, and something sustainable enough to maintain after labor and delivery.
To start, the salon was stunning. From driving an hour to my small-town, go-to hole in the wall to making my first appearance at what I’ve affectionately referred to as “a rich mom nail salon,” my very first steps into the spa were noteworthy. Actually, I was in the parking lot when I got a call exactly two minutes before my appointment time to make sure all was well and that I was indeed showing up.
I was greeted into a very large, spacious, and newly built salon. New chairs, upgraded fixtures, and a layout that somehow felt both luxurious and effortless. Even though they were about ten minutes behind, the waiting area was immaculate and well-designed, making the delay comfortable in the process.
When I was called for my appointment, that’s when the real VIP experience started. Clients all around me were offered water, some nail techs were in deep conversation with their clients while others were in blissful silence. There was a very clean, wide variety of products to use. I just knew I picked the right place.
My nail tech was a man this time. He was both quick and precise, exactly what I hope for in a nail appointment. We didn’t talk much—that’s how I like it. But when we did, he was kind with his requests, sincere with his questions, and even surprised that I prefer one coat of nude on my French manicure to the two coats everyone else seems to prefer.
I could say it was the middle of the appointment when I threw out the idea of adding a pedicure. The front desk lady promised she would try to squeeze me in despite their incredibly colourful (EDIT: fully booked) schedule. She offered me the spot if I wanted it, but I soon declined for timing reasons related to what would eventually be my hair appointment.
At the end, I paid, gave half my tip in cash (what I had on hand), and paid the rest on card. I left thoroughly excited to come back. Safe to say, it was the end of one relationship (with a nail salon I’d been faithful to for nearly five years) and the beginning of another. I can’t wait to book a pedicure there in the coming weeks.
In hindsight, declining the impromptu pedicure was the smartest decision I made, since the weekend traffic would set me back ten minutes for the hair appointment.
I walked in, and no one greeted me with so much as a smile. It was busy, with several people in line, and had this underlying smell that reminded me of what happens when a business gets too busy to notice its own standards slipping. I waited 25 minutes in silence, watching people who arrived much later get acknowledged and served before me. After almost half an hour, I was finally asked my name and appointment time.
To be fair, I understand the ten-minutes-late part. I tried to explain that the local traffic this weekend caught me off guard and that I did my best to make it on time. What I didn’t expect was for the hair stylist to leave the salon entirely, nor did I expect to wait another 30 minutes before someone broke the news.
In a desperate attempt to get my hair done before I left, I offered $200 on the spot to anyone who could fit me in. (What I would later learn is that I offered roughly 400% of what they would charge me for a quick trim.) The stylist looked at me like I was bluffing and negotiated a spot… seven hours later.
The salon was in a dystopian part of town, a small plaza that almost seemed like a different world compared to the city we’re in. From the moment we entered, you could both see and smell the lack of cleanliness. Maybe I was biased from my experience at the nail salon, but if such a paradise for nails could exist, surely there could be a quick vacuum or sweep between each client.
I’m not even joking. On multiple occasions, I contemplated offering to clean the floors and baseboards. Call it Type-A nesting energy or a total lack of entrepreneurial care on their behalf, either way, I was stumped by the lack of care.
On the rebooked appointment late that evening, I returned in the same outfit. (Hey, I’m pregnant. This is practically a statement piece. I go through multiple outfit changes and entire seasons of hibernation in a single day. The woman you meet at 9 a.m. is rarely the same woman you encounter after dinner.)
I wore an oversized Oxford shirt with some striped linen pants. To the nail salon, it was giving “G-Wagon mom chic,” but to the trend-focused hair stylists, I suppose my outfit communicated something entirely different. It was a reminder that people make assumptions long before they know who they’re speaking to.
At last, I got in the chair.
The hair stylist was both professional and kindhearted, and it turned out to be an incredible one-on-one experience. She brought up that word around the salon was that I had offered $200 and that she would have gladly cleared her schedule to take me in. She mentioned that none of the clients she got even tipped, let alone threw that kind of money on the table.
But after a really well-done haircut and an even better conversation, I left feeling like I got the experience I was paying for… which brings me to the rate.
I won’t even disclose how much I was charged because no self-respecting entrepreneur would ever charge this little. But there I was, leaving a tip that cost more than the service itself. I thought about how overbooked and overworked they were, and no wonder the lines were so long. Anyone who could get a decent haircut would jump at such a low price.
It made me think of my earlier days of entrepreneurship. The burnt-out wannabe that I used to be. The woman who worked too many hours for too little return. The woman who wasn’t organized, who took on too many clients to compensate for a pricing gap she simply wasn’t charging.
And I thought to myself: Thank God I shifted my business into the luxury model.
I would gladly pay the hundred-and-something dollars for the 30-minute manicure at a nail salon that thought of everything than save more than half the price and settle for the subpar option.
So with story time coming to an end, today’s salon-scapades refreshed some of my favourite business lessons. I thought I would share a few entrepreneurial must-knows from my years in luxury business.
Your Customer Journey Is Everything
Your customer journey starts in the parking lot, honey. And no, that’s not just a metaphor.
The nail salon cared so much about every single client walking through their doors that even when they were running behind and I was no more than two minutes past my appointment time, they were checking in on me and making sure I was still showing up.
Not only that, but the water bottles, the waiting area—online or offline—were all masterfully considered.
Every second of the client experience should radiate VIP because the value of your business starts before the investment. It’s in your automation, your welcome systems, and most importantly, your level of organization.
Systems and Organization Are Nesting for Your Business
I’m in my cleaner-is-better era. Visually and mentally. Systems-wise too.
Your booking system, or the way your website is laid out, is the difference between metaphorical hair on your baseboards and a perfectly spaced nail-polish display. (Is it clear and visually impeccable? Do people understand what you do and what you offer right away? Are your systems automated or overbooked?)
The more organized you are in your time and presence, the more competence your brand communicates.
Don’t get me wrong—we all run late. But how you deal with the unexpected, and how you make up for it, will entirely define your brand and client perception.
People Don’t Actually Look at the Price Tag, but You Should
When presented with unquestionable value, people in the luxury market don’t even look at the price tag.
And ironically, the cheaper your price tag, the cheaper your clients.
I would have spent the manicure money three times over if I had gotten a good hair salon experience on the first try.
Maybe the fact that they charge so little is why they’re so overbooked and don’t have time to work out the kinks in their client journey. My stylist even confessed that the most demanding clients never even tip!
I told her I was pregnant and preferred a quick experience to the over-the-top service they provided to everyone before me. They spent hours doing unnecessary work on clients who never paid the value. They bled way over appointment times to ensure each customer’s quality… but never got the money to match the effort.
How many times do we see this in entrepreneurship? Over-delivering to all the wrong people… for the wrong price tag. And totally undermining the clients who are willing to go above and beyond to work with us.
Personally, my most demanding clients have always paid me the least, and now I see that the same goes for hair salons and million-dollar startups alike.
Never Judge a Client
Some of the most unsuspecting prospective clients will become your greatest assets, and sometimes the most promising contacts in your network end up costing you more than they’re worth.
I walked in quiet, underdressed, and with hair that desperately needed taming. But from what I gathered, I was the most valuable customer on my stylist’s booking sheet that day.
Too bad they had to turn me away twice to finally get the memo… Well, the paycheque.
I’ve seen it online too. Prioritizing influencers with a ton of followers who overpromise and under-deliverable. Their posts don’t convert to sales, but you paid way too much to land them on your PR list.
Meanwhile, there are thousands of eager entrepreneurs who would gladly outperform those metrics, but because they have a smaller following, they get overlooked all the time.
I’ve accepted pro-bono work for global businesses and found more monetary and personal gratification working with small business owners.
My husband made the remark of “lost opportunity cost”—in a general sense, by judging and turning down certain prospects, and in my case, what it might have been worth to accept the original offer to squeeze me in.
Safe to say, you will come across home-run clients, but they rarely appear that way at first glance. Your start-to-finish journey, your automation and organization, and your willingness to treat every prospect with the same level of care is what determines whether those opportunities stay—or walk right back out the door.
Because sometimes the million-dollar opportunity doesn’t arrive looking like one.
Sometimes she’s six months pregnant, sitting quietly in the corner, deciding whether or not she’ll ever come back.
