Three months ago, a bad return experience left me poised to write an article entitled "Men’s Wearhouse: You’re Going To Hate The Way You’re Treated." I was insulted by the response I received in my attempt to return an item at a specific storefront, and I did not feel the corporate office was doing enough to remedy the matter.
Technically, nothing has changed. Both gripes are still very valid.
But insofar as Men’s Wearhouse ultimately accepted my return (one that I fully recognize would not have been accepted by many other stores), I no longer carry such harsh negativity toward the plan. There is even an extent to which I applaud the organization and its employees for resolving the issue.
My reluctance to trash the brand with a deceptively cutesy article does not, however, mean everything about the experience went perfectly. While Men’s Wearhouse ultimately brought me to the right destination, the journey to that successful resolution was eedlessly stressful, frustrating, and complicated.
With the aim of improving future retail experiences – both inside and outside of Men’s Wearhouse – I am sharing the issue that made my return process so annoyingly difficult.
Issue Overview: Due to significant dissatisfaction**, I wanted to return a pair of altered suits. While I certainly recognized the unintuitive nature of my request – given the commonplace "you altered it, you bought it" mindset – I had confirmed my ability to make the return prior to purchase. The policy on the official website says that all items may be returned within 90 days; an employee said the same thing during my transaction. Moreover, the unintuitive, yet customer-centric, policy seemed consistent with Men’s Wearhouse’s "you’re going to like the way you look – I guarantee it" branding.
The store initially refused my return. The regional/corporate office later overruled that decision, but the process of actually making that appeal – and then getting my refund – was not without challenges.
**Why was I dissatisfied? I learned I was misled into overpaying for one of the suits. The other suit – after two separate tailoring attempts (and costly cab rides to and from the store) – fit horribly (I was able to confirm this by trying the suit on – with my full ensemble – at home). I simply could not justify or endure the cost and hassle associated with additional visits and tailoring attempts.
Issue #1 – Inconsistency of Message
On its official website, Men’s Wearhouse outright stipulates that all items may be returned for a full refund within 90 days. Prior to leaving the store with my item, an employee confirmed the same policy.
Fine print on the store’s receipt, interestingly, disagrees.
It notes that certain types of returns – namely altered or "worn" items-- are subject to the store’s discretion.
Inherently problematic given that it disagrees with the stated policy on the website, the "fine print" is further troublesome by virtue of the fact that it appears on the receipt. Since a customer is not given that receipt until after purchase, he is effectively being bound to a policy he never knew existed (let alone accepted).
The inconsistency went a step further.
Upon attempting to make the return, the manager told me that the universal policy is to never accept altered or worn items. That differs from the receipt policy (each return request is subject to the manager’s discretion), which differs from the official corporate policy (all items may be returned).
Issue #2 – Lack of Customer-Centricity
Suppose the website policy were a mistake and that altered and worn returns were truly subject to the manager’s discretion.
Such a policy still gives the manager the choice to honor the return. It empowers her to be customer-centric.
In this case, the manager used her discretion to say no to the return and thus no to customer-centricity.
That was the particularly frustrating element here. The manager knew that I interpreted the return policy to be all-encompassing. She knew that I had legitimate reason to be dissatisfied with my purchase. She knew that honoring the return would go a long way in restoring my satisfaction and demonstrating the brand’s respect for its customers.
She still said no.
Issue #3 – Lack of Agent Empowerment
Since the store refused to resolve my issue, I needed to escalate the matter to the Men’s Wearhouse corporate office.
Whether due to a legitimate agreement with my stance or an admirable sense of customer-centricity, the corporate agent demonstrated support for my cause. She seemingly believed I was entitled to the refund, and she wanted to make it happen.
She could not independently do so.
Her first option was to call the store manager – the same one who rejected my return – and argue on my behalf. The argument did not work.
Her next move was to forward the case – via e-mail – to the district supervisor responsible for the store.
She promised a response within 2 business days, but it was obvious she would play no role in keeping that promise. Crippled by corporate structure, she was a messenger rather than a problem solver.
Issue #4 – Failure to Keep Promises
Consistent with my hunch, Men’s Wearhouse did not respond to my matter in two days. Or three days. Or four days.
When I called to inquire about the status of my case, the support agent could only express her surprise that I did not hear back. She had no update to provide and was no more empowered than the initial agent to actually resolve my problem.
Breaking a promise is always wrong. Doing so within the confines of a customer support issue – and when dealing with a disgruntled customer who believes he is owed a considerable amount of money – is particularly poor form.
Issue #5 – Lack of Urgency
The silence continued for several more weeks.
It was abundantly clear that the issue was not simply one of a broken promise; it was one of disregard for the urgency of my issue. That I was frustrated – and being unfairly forced to pay credit card interest on my purchase – did nothing to compel Men’s Wearhouse to respond. The concept of urgency was evidently foreign to the organization.
At the five-week mark (which was actually nine weeks after my original purchase and thus only a few weeks from the return cut-off), I called Men’s Wearhouse to again inquire about the status of my return. The support agent had little to say. She, like the previous agent, was unsure why I had not heard back and similarly unsure about the status of my return claim. She said she would do her best to compel a response from the district supervisor.
Her effort was successful; the supervisor called me later that day. Curt, yet cordial, he vowed to make the situation right.
Fulfilling that vow would, of course, produce another delay. Since he would need to investigate the issue, consult with the store, consult with the corporate office, and make a final decision, I was going to need to wait at least another week for an answer.
On the one hand, I was thankful for the support. It certainly seemed like I was on track for a suitable resolution, and that is far more than I can say for the typical retail experience.
On the other hand, I was bewildered by the business’ apparent disregard for the length of the saga. Men’s Wearhouse had made me wait more than a month for an update on the matter – and it was still not yet ready to provide a resolution. How could it tolerate such delay? How could it expect me to do so?
Issue #6 - Limited Assistance
After a period of delay, the supervisor returned with some good news: my refund had been approved by the corporate/regional office.
Unfortunately, his good news did not bring an immediate end to the saga. I still needed to physically return the suit to the store – the same store that vehemently refused to accept the return the first time. It was up to the supervisor to inform the store of the issue, explain that the corporate office had approved the refund, and provide instructions for processing the return.
Not wanting to spend my money and my time on another fruitless trip to the Men’s Wearhouse location, I naturally wanted to assurance that the store had indeed been properly briefed on the matter. Receiving assurance that the process would be seamless – and painless – seemed like the wise and necessary move.
Actually getting that assurance proved difficult.
The supervisor did not answer my initial call. I left a message expressing my concern, but hours went by without a reply. He potentially called back later that night (I received an unidentified missed call), but he opted not to leave a message or text confirming the store’s readiness to process the return.
The weekend concluded, and I was without an answer. The subsequent week progressed, and I was still without an answer. I finally called the corporate support line on the following Friday (note that this was now two months after I initially attempted to return the item). The agent perused the case file, contacted the local store and finally provided confirmation that I was able to make the return.
I would finally put the issue to bed that weekend. Or so I thought!
Issue #7 – Inflexible Systems
When I reached out to the Men’s Wearhouse corporate line in late August, I drew attention to the impending arrival of the 90-day cut-off. Afraid that the store would attempt to refuse my return on that basis, I insisted that the company resolve the issue urgently.
The agent informed me – and added a line in my case file – that the 90-day deadline would not apply in my case. Since confirmation existed of my attempt to return the item months prior to the deadline, the store would not attempt to declare my return ineligible.
The conversation ended up proving relevant; the issue was not resolved until after the cut-off.
In one respect, the business honored the conversation. Save for one quick scare from the store manager, who initially said I could only get "store credit" after 90 days, there was never any debate about my ability to return the item. Since I first raised the issue in July, it did not matter that I was not actually processing the return until September.
Unfortunately, the company’s willingness to accept my return did not mean it was able to properly accommodate my return. Due to an internal system restriction, Men’s Wearhouse cannot directly refund a card after the 90-day period (while not relevant to my situation, I believe there is a similar restriction regarding cash). The only option was to send a check, which came with an estimated arrival time of 7-14 days.
You read that correctly! Men’s Wearhouse already spent two months delaying the approval of my return. It now planned to make me wait another two weeks to receive my refund.
Issue #8 – Miscommunication
But wait. There’s more!
Seemingly frustrated about her inability to provide a direct refund, the store manager (the same one who initially refused my return) requested that the corporate office rush-process my check. It would still be sent through traditional mail, but the wait period was to be reduced to 3-5 days.
Any guesses about whether the check actually arrived within that window?
It obviously did not. After giving the store a buffer period of two additional days, I contacted the corporate office to inquire about the status of my check.
Per the agent, it had indeed been processed the day after I made the return. The representative was unclear why I did not receive the check.
After doing some digging with another team member, the agent decided that the store manager listed my apartment number twice in the check request. That likely threw off the postal service (really??), and Men’s Wearhouse guessed that the check got lost in the mail.
The agent informed me that the initial check was to be canceled; a new check was to be imminently shipped.
A few days later, an overnight UPS package arrived at my apartment. It contained the check; I quickly uploaded it via my bank’s mobile deposit app. Was the issue finally over?
Be serious. Of course not!
Three days later, I received another check via conventional mail. It was painfully (in more ways than one) obvious what had happened. Somehow, the UPS package contained the original, canceled check. The correct check was the one I received via standard mail.
Sure enough, I looked at my bank balance, and noticed that the UPS check I had cashed was returned. The money was deducted from my account, and I was charged a fee.
I contacted Men’s Wearhouse. The representative had limited information, but it seemed logical to him – as it would to anyone aware of the situation – that the overnight UPS package would have contained the updated check.
The original check was allegedly processed and shipped on September 21. Why, then, would the overnight UPS shipment containing my check not arrive until October 2? The original check was allegedly sent to an address containing two apartment numbers. Why, then, did the overnight UPS shipment containing my check only list one apartment number?
The agent concurred with my analysis. "We would never send an original check through UPS. We might send the replacement that way." The situation was preposterous. Perhaps the company lied about sending the original check on September 21 and then rushed it via UPS. Perhaps the company truly feared the first check got lost in the mail, sent a replacement prior to my complaint, and then canceled that replacement to send a third check once I complained. Perhaps the company only sent two checks abut accidentally canceled the wrong one.
In any event, miscommunication clearly prevented me from receiving my money in a timely fashion. At this moment, I still do not know that the second check will clear – or that I will receive a refund for the check return fee.
Miscommunication also emerged earlier in the process. When discussing my return with the supervisor, he declared it "good news" that I paid via credit card. "That way, we’ll be able to put the money right back on your card," he added.
We all know how that panned out when it came time to actually receive my refund.
Ruining a Resolution
Particularly unfortunate about this saga is that it should have been a tale of outstanding customer-centricity. Here was a company so confident in its product quality – and so committed to its customers – that it would honor returns on altered items. The tale should have served to put Men’s Wearhouse in a club of iconic customer experience brands like Zappos and Nordstrom.
Instead, Men’s Wearhouse let the aforementioned eight factors turn the tale into a horror story.