MAGIC made easy

“Make a connection.” That’s the first step to MAGIC. At Macy’s, we believe everyone can do MAGIC. MAGIC selling that is. In this introductory video, we’ll take you through each step of the MAGIC selling process. Don’t worry if all this is new to you. Thousands of great MAGIC sellers had their starts in the very chairs you are now sitting in. Are you ready to begin? Fantastic. Here we go.

The M in MAGIC is for… That’s right! You remembered. “Make a connection.” At Macy’s we are committed to service. And service starts with a smile. Always greet the customer in a friendly and calm manner. Exchange names, and let the customer know that you are interested in them as a person. As shopping can be strenuous for some, always exude confidence and let the customer know that you are there for them in whatever capacity they need.

“Hello ma’am. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Um, yeah. You see that mannequin over there? I really like that coat on him. Do you have that in a medium for my husband?” Excellent. I know exactly what she wants, and I know whom she’s buying for. I am totally making a connection right now. Crap! I forgot to exchange names.

“My name is Derek.”

“Ok… do you have the coat or not?”

“Yes, yes! Of course we do. It’s here somewhere. It’s just that our stock people changed around the whole place yesterday. So, I’m all messed up.” Truthfully, I don’t know if we have stock people. Even if we do, they definitely didn’t change anything around since yesterday. I just don’t know where anything is. But I can’t let her know that. I’ve got to show her that I’m still on top of everything. “You wait right there, and I’ll be back with that large in just a second.”

“Medium! You need to find me a medium.”

“Yes, yes! Of course I do.”

“Ask questions.” The second letter of MAGIC is how you can find out the best way to serve the customer. Use your knowledge to help them find exactly what they are looking for and be sure to listen to their answers.

“Sorry ma’am, did you say XL or L?”

“I said M. Listen. I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” I need more time to find this damn coat. I’ve already walked around the entire section and I don’t see it. I see pea coats. I see dress coats with little bits of fur. I see blazers. I see windbreakers. I see solid white bubble jackets. I see solid black bubble jackets. I don’t see dark green, blue-lined, checkered bubble jackets. But now I see my manager Sonam! Oh Sonam, who knows oh so many things, tell me please, “Where do I find that jacket that is out there on that mannequin?”

“Follow me.” We walk to a rack filled with solid white bubble jackets. “These jackets are reversible. Turn it inside out, and you’ll find your dark green, blue-lined, checkered bubble jacket.”

“Give Options, Give Opinions.” The G in MAGIC is exactly what it sounds like. Most customers don’t have a clear picture of exactly what they want. At Macy’s, we encourage our Sales Associates to present them with a variety of options, as well as give them the opinions they need to make a good decision.

“Oh great! You found it. Thanks so much,” she says when she sees me.

“My pleasure. An extra large, just like you wanted.”

“What?”

“Just kidding! It’s a medium. Sorry about the mix-up before,” I say. She’s laughing! I’m really doing it! I just might sell this 200 dollar coat. I have got to keep this momentum rolling. “And, just in case you didn’t realize, this coat is a reversible, so you’re really getting two coats for the price of one.”

“Wow! That’s great!” I turn the coat inside out. Her face drops. “Oh. I don’t know about a white coat for my husband. He’s kind of a slob. It’ll just get dirty, I’m afraid.”

“Ok, then just keep it green all the time.”

“Maybe… Would you do me a favor and try it on. You are about the same size as my husband.” I put the coat on. “What do you think of it?” she asks me.

“I like it very much. But then again, my girlfriend hates the coat I wear now. She won’t even let me buy my next coat without her. Haha!”

“Inspire to buy.” Customers often look to others for confirmation when they are about to make a purchase - especially if the purchase is a present. At Macy’s, we encourage our Sales Associates to help provide the customer with the resolve they need to get what they want. Inspire them!

Now she is not laughing. Did I really just say that? What is wrong with me? I have to say something constructive. What do I know about coats? Boy, I wish I knew something about coats. My dad just bought a coat. “You know, the great thing about Nautica coats is that they are really, really warm. My dad just bought a Marmot coat, and it’s definitely not as warm as this one.”

“Marmot! That was the name! My husband had said something about that brand, and I had totally forgotten the name. Thanks so much! Where did your dad buy his coat?”

“Actually, at Macy’s.”

“Oh, wonderful! Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to go and look for Marmot coats, but could you take this one and put it on hold for me, just in case?”

“Celebrate the Purchase.” While each step of the MAGIC selling process is important, we at Macy’s believe that the C in MAGIC is the most important. Because a great celebration will be likely to bring them back! Each customer is different, and each Sales Associate is different. There is no right or wrong way to celebrate the purchase. Just make sure you acknowledge the great decision they made, and ask them to come back soon.

She walks into the Nautica section with a giant bag. The word Marmot is on the bag. “When I saw this coat I knew it was exactly what I was looking for. You can take that other one off hold. I won’t be needing it. Again, thank you so much for all your help.”

“My pleasure ma’am.” After she leaves, Sonam laughs.

See how easy it is? At Macy’s, we believe that if you follow the MAGIC selling steps, you too can do magic. Thank you for watching. And thank you for believe in MAGIC.

Oh Wally, you are soooooo obdurate

'Now, don't be afraid. These people are just trying to make some money. They will offer you water. They will offer to carry your bag. They will offer to fan you. They will offer to take pictures of you. They will rub your feet if you need. They will clear branches out of your path. They will lend you a supporting hand up the hill. They will guide you. They are poor people, so, just give them what you feel is appropriate for what they do for you.' Our guide was turned around in his front seat, bumping up and down along with the rocky road. He was explaining the ten or so shawled and bent ladies waiting at the foot of the tree line. In an extraordinary feat of universal providence, and certainly without the aid of astrological calendars, or crystal balls, or enterprising tour guides, (that last one is important!) exactly the same number of old women as tourists in our van were waiting in exactly the right location of the non-marked non-road at exactly the right, unmarked time. How could they have known?! What luck!

'They are from this area. They know the area well, and they are here to help you. Remember to give them what you think is appropriate. If you don't want anything from them, ok. Just give them what is appropriate for what you used.' That said, again, and van stopped, I swung open the side door and leaped out, nearly onto an old woman. Within minutes, they had us separated from one another. We paired off: one unsuspecting, slightly confused young tourist to one coughing, hunched-over, non-English speaking woman. We walked in two lines into the trees. Pushing and shoving an old woman, I tried to jockey for position next to my friend. Looking out for Matt's best interests as his self-proclaimed hike manager, she, however, unfortunately decided I was an inappropriate choice for hike companion.

We hiked up and up, accompanied by the coughs, hacks, wheezing, and labored breathing of the old women who were there to assist us. My guide lost her balance momentarily and almost fell off the path. I steadied her. I wonder if she noted the irony of the situation as I helped her back onto the path. I certainly did. And I also noted the tragedy.

I wanted all these 'guides' to go away. I didn't want this strange lady tugging on my shirt and pointing to shrubs and bushes and trees and saying things in a language I didn't understand. I didn't want to force a smile, a laugh, a thank you. Nowhere in my fantasies of visiting the Great Wall of China am I slipping money into the palm of someone to get them to go away! I just wanted to walk in peace with my own thoughts to a place whose loneliness and grandness have captivated my imagination since I learned of it.

One time, in Japan, I took a tiny local train to a tiny local station in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. I walked and walked. The streets got smaller and smaller, the people fewer and fewer, the houses farther apart and the rice fields between them larger. There were no street signs, no vending machines. The sun began to set and I couldn't hear cars or people. I heard birds and bugs. I kept walking. I saw the spire of a temple rise up through the branches of a tree on my right. When I turned on my heel to head for it, the sound of crunching gravel crackled alone in the air. I walked through a gate and to the building's entryway. There was one pair of shoes on the ground. I took mine off and stepped up onto the wood and through the door. I saw a statue of Buddha. He loomed over me. He was wood, and he wasn't polished. He looked so old, so dusty, so comfortable in this little room of his in the middle of nowhere. I didn't see anyone else in the room, and I didn't hear anyone either. Whose shoes were those outside? Who else was here, in the middle of nowhere, with me and the Buddha? I walked to the Buddha.
'Wait please!' My head snapped around to the right. 'That will be 1,000 yen,' said the old wrinkled man in his blue guard uniform.

No. Money would not again taint my feeling of pure discovery. I wouldn't allow it to carelessly relegate my long and wondered journey to 'tourist trap.' I didn't blink when I paid 400 dollars for a flight to China. Nor did I blink when I paid 15 dollars for a van to drive me to the Great Wall, or five dollars to pay the hostel's finder's fee, or the five dollars for lunch. But, if I had to pay just one dollar at the top of that Wall, everything would be ruined. So I ran.

My guide didn't bother to follow. She couldn't. In that moment, no one could have caught me. I was running, and I was free. I put all the people in my group behind me and sprinted upward towards my moment. The base of a Wall tower appeared before me and I climbed up the steps, onto the top of the Wall.





No site or building has ever moved me as much as the Great Wall. It made me feel so small, in both time and space. It is so massive and unmoving and extends as far as the eye can see. How did people build this? The bricks are so old, so worn down. On either side of the wall is green. No roads, no buildings, no cars. Just a wall running and running. Unlike the temples of Japan, which are never more than a stone's throw away from a main city street, or equipped with a money collector, or the shrines and palaces of Beijing, which are completely overrun with people, the Wall allowed me to pause and feel something like history's gravity waves lapping slowly. The solitude and obdurate steadfastness of this monument was astounding. The Wall didn't give a shit about me, I could tell.

It was also the furthest away from home I've felt in my life. Japan resembled America in many ways, and my familiarity with the language and customs made Japan a second home for me. But this was different. Everything about the scenery and the moment screamed, 'Can you believe you are here? Can you believe that you saw this in a textbook years and years ago and now you are HERE?! You are in China!' I was overcome. I touched the rocks, leaned over the side, just stared and stared, and tried to take in everything about that moment. But absolutely everything else came in. Memories of middle school Japanese, high school Japanese, college Japanese, three different home-stay families in Japan, three years living and working in Japan. My life in Asia would be over in a week. I'd have to start over, back in America, so far away. So far away. And still the Wall didn't seem to care.

Intense and beautiful life moment concluded, I walked 15 steps to my left and bought a three dollar beer from a wrinkly old man sitting on a red plastic cooler. I think he was wearing jeans and a Yankees hat.