It took me 45 minutes and a $60 Uber to get to Harry Rosen in Toronto. I expected to walk out with something great...
Instead, I walked out with nothing.
I even filmed a short video after I was there because I want you to see what shoppers go through today in stores that once represented the best of luxury retail. (Correction, they have three, not five floors..)
No one tries to give bad service in retail. But somewhere between good intentions and the sales floor, the engagement that built these brands has gone silent.
A Great Start That Went Nowhere
As soon as I walked in, a friendly guy stationed near the entrance - almost like a bellman - looked up and said, "Good morning."
Perfect. That's all I needed. I'd been noticed. I felt welcomed.
I fully expected that same attention to continue as I explored the rest of the store — after all, this was Harry Rosen. But it didn't. Not on the second floor, not in any of the designer sections. Hugo Boss, Tom Ford, you name it - beautiful product, no connection.
This is merchandising excellence-shirts displayed with accessories in cubbies that pull your eye from waist to ceiling. They put substantial thought into this.
And as I made my way back around the floor, I spotted something that finally resonated: a Patrick Assaf jacket I hadn't noticed before. It stood out because nothing else had. I thought, This could be the one.
I was ready to buy - if only someone had been ready to help.
The Manager's Excuse
No one approached. No one asked what I was looking for. No one offered a fitting room.
I started helping myself, trying things on in front of a mirror, waiting for someone to show interest. The longer I stood there, the more ridiculous it felt.
At one point, a well-dressed guy walked by. I thought, Yeah, he probably shops here.
It never occurred to me he was the manager.
Finally, I'd had enough. I left the merchandise and was almost out the door when I asked the young man if I could speak to the manager.
When I mentioned the lack of service from several people on the floor, he said,"Oh, those are our visual merchandisers."
I said,"I don't care. They could've said hello or gotten someone else." There were several salespeople who traversed the salesfloor without saying anything either.
That moment told me everything I needed to know.
When neither your visual team or salespeople can't even acknowledge a customer, you don't have a staffing problem - you have a leadership problem. It means the people on the floor don't feel accountable for the customer experience.
Then he said, "You caught us with our pants down."
No. I caught you not caring.
This Isn't Coming From a Random Shopper
Here's the part that matters.
During the pandemic, I made daily videos highlighting great retail brands - one of those was Harry Rosen.
Back then, I praised them as one of the best merchandised menswear stores I'd ever seen. A young associate took the time to show me around; she was gracious, confident, and proud of her store. I ended up buying three outfits that day - and several more later that week.
Their CEO sent me a thank-you note after that video went up.
I told my viewers that retail sells hope — that what Harry Rosen did so well was help men discover the version of themselves they wanted to be.
Five years later, I walked into that same brand with that same hope - and left with disappointment.
Why It Matters to Me
Growing up, I wore hand-me-downs. I didn't get new clothes until I was older.
When I was selling apparel in Los Angeles, I'd walk along Rodeo Drive after the shops had closed, staring through the windows and thinking, Someday I'm going to be able to shop here.
For me, shopping for luxury menswear isn't aspirational - it's who I became. It's the reward for hard work, the reminder of where I started and how far I've come.
And maybe that's why this experience stings more. Because I expect the retailer to work as hard for my business as I've worked to earn it.
Marble, wood, Persian rugs, perfect lighting. They spent millions creating this space. But nobody was there to make it worth my trip.
Then I Went to Holt Renfrew
I figured, maybe I just had bad luck. So I took the escalator up and walked into Holt Renfrew.
At the top of the elevators, three associates stood chatting. I spotted a brown Moose Knuckles hoodie, about $350, that looked great. But the only size visible was a small on the mannequin.
No one looked up. No one offered to help. No sale.
Two luxury stores. Zero connection.
A Pattern, Not an Outlier
This wasn't a one-off.
Over the last year, I've been ignored at Bloomingdale's and Saks I made a video about Bloomingdale's after my purchase of a trenchcoat.
At Saks, employees scrolled through their phones while I stood there watching. When I mentioned it to someone I was told, "Oh, they're clienteling."
I don't believe that.
And this isn't new. Five years ago, I wrote about the same problem at Nordstrom and made a video after a purchase at Neiman Marcus flagship. After the Nordstrom piece, an executive called me to say, "You're right. We have to get back to basics."
Then Harry Rosen. Same thing.
I'm a customer of all these brands. And I'm being treated like I don't exist.
The problem isn't online. The problem isn't the economy.
The problem is the stores themselves.
Look at how they layer contrast shirts under dark suits on the rack-it catches your eye immediately. The product tells a story. The people don't.
The Response Told Me Everything
After I shared this story across social media, the reactions validated what I suspected: this isn't about one store having a bad day.
On Facebook, where most of my audience works in retail—store managers, visual merchandisers, trainers, frontline associates—94% agreed with my assessment. These are professionals who live this reality every day. They're not surprised by what happened. They're exhausted by it.
On Instagram, the pattern held. Multiple people shared their own experiences of being ignored or judged by appearance in luxury stores. One commenter said, "I've had salespeople look right through me until I pulled out my credit card." Another: "I stopped shopping in stores because I got tired of being invisible."
LinkedIn was more divided. About a third agreed with my experience. Another third were long-time Harry Rosen customers who defended the brand, saying "That's not my experience" or "I've always had great service there."
And that's fair—good service still exists at Harry Rosen and other luxury retailers. But here's the problem: it shouldn't be random. Whether you get acknowledged shouldn't depend on which associate happens to be working that day, or whether you look like their idea of a luxury customer.
The most revealing comment came from a former Harry Rosen employee on LinkedIn, who wrote: "Poor leadership, lack of training, workplace issues—this isn't isolated to one store or one day."
That's not a customer complaint. That's an insider confirmation.
When the people who work in your stores are telling you there's a culture problem, and the people who shop in your stores are telling you there's a service problem, the issue isn't the economy. It's not online competition. It's leadership.
The Moment That Could've Saved It
The manager could have saved the sale. He could have said,"I'm so sorry. Let me personally take you around the store and see if I can salvage our relationship."
That would have done it. I'd have been right there with him. He would have understood what had to happen.
But he didn't.
I left, opened my phone, found the designer online, and visited their website. That outfit could've - and should've - been purchased in Harry Rosen's flagship store.
Here's what I told the manager he should do- and what every luxury retailer needs to hear.
What happened wasn't a lack of greeting — it was a lack of follow-through. A single hello can't replace real engagement. That's Walmart in a nicer outfit.
Luxury retailers spend millions on marble floors, music, fragrance, and lighting — but not enough on the one thing that actually converts: human connection.
The Response
Ian Rosen, President and COO commented on LinkedIn and Instagram, "Incredibly sorry to hear about your experience shopping with us. Clearly not up to the high standards we hold ourselves to. Will direct message you for more details but can only be grateful for the feedback; know it'll help us do better next time."
I appreciate the response. But I'm not looking for apologies or a consulting gig.
I just want retailers to deliver the service they commanded years ago that built their brand names.
It's Not the Economy—It's Leadership
We keep hearing luxury sales are down — and the numbers back it up. According to Bain & Company's 2024 luxury goods study, personal luxury goods sales fell 2%, marking one of the weakest years since the Great Recession. The luxury consumer base declined by 50 million over the last two years, dropping from approximately 400 million consumers.
But it's not because people stopped caring about quality. It's because they stopped being cared for.
After the pandemic, free money was flowing and shoppers came in ready to spend. Now, every sale has to be earned. And most stores have forgotten how.
Reports show that brick-and-mortar luxury stores are suffering from declining walk-in traffic, yet successful brands could drive traffic back by delivering better value and broadening in-store engagement.
The economy didn't make your associates ignore customers. That's a leadership failure.
Managers have become numb. They've accepted mediocrity as normal.
If you can watch a customer wander around your store unhelped and not feel panic, you're part of the problem.
Too many store leaders are managing schedules, not standards. They track hours, not engagement.
Here's the truth: transactions come from interactions. When no one engages, sales suffer.
In our training data, we've seen that as many as 8 out of 10 lost sales start in the first 30 seconds — because no one bothered to connect.
That's not about headcount. That's about habit.
The Stakes Just Got Higher
And here's what makes this even more urgent: luxury brands are now competing with themselves.
According to a recent Wall Street Journal report, the secondhand luxury market was worth $56 billion in 2024- nearly three times what it was a decade ago. Sales of used luxury goods are growing faster than sales in brands' own stores.
Gen Z consumers spent 7% less on new luxury goods in 2024. Why? They're buying the same brands secondhand instead.
As Bain's Claudia D'Arpizio puts it: "Appetite for these brands and products remains high but willingness to pay current prices is low."
In other words, people still want the product. They just don't want to deal with the store.
When your biggest competition is the merchandise you already sold, you can't afford to ignore customers who show up willing to pay full price.
What Shoppers Go Through Just to Show Up
I didn't drive across town for a selfie. I took a 45-minute Uber down, knowing full well I'd need to take a 45-minute Uber back.
That's 90 minutes of my day and nearly $120 just to walk through the door of a store I believed in.
You shouldn't care what I look like walking in. You should care what I look like walking out.
How much effort do customers put in just to shop in person these days? Parking. Weather. Gas. Childcare. All of it.
That effort deserves acknowledgment - not indifference.
If someone's willing to show up, they've already overcome half the battle. The least you can do is make them feel seen.
The Retail Doctor's Prescription
Here's what needs to change — fast.
-
Train for engagement, not inventory. Associates need to know how to start a conversation, not just fold sweaters or explain fabric blends.
When any salesperson worth their commissions sees a shopper in the store, they should be trying to figure out what the clothes they stop and look at, hold up, or otherwise show interest in...and how they can find some way into the sale. Not with "Finding everything OK?" or "Can I help you?" but with real observation and engagement that shows they're paying attention. It's a lot of observation, psychology, and creativity if you want to excel.
-
Everyone on the floor connects. Whether you're a visual merchandiser or a stock associate, the minute a shopper makes eye contact, you represent the brand.
When I got back to my hotel that night, housekeepers in the hallway looked up and said, "Good morning." Their job is to clean rooms. But hospitality understands something retail has forgotten: anyone who engages with a guest is the brand. If a housekeeper gets it, why doesn't a visual merchandiser in a luxury store?
-
Managers must stop excusing indifference. "That's not their department" is a symptom of a weak culture.
-
Inspect what you expect. If leaders aren't walking the floor, they're missing the truth. A mystery shop once a quarter won't fix it.
-
Measure interactions as rigorously as conversions. If you're not tracking connection, you're not tracking sales.
Because Here's the Reality
I didn't leave because the clothes were too expensive. I left because no one cared whether I stayed.
Luxury retail doesn't have a traffic problem. It has an attention problem.
The real question isn't whether customers will come back. It's whether these stores will be up to the challenge when they do.
