Continued from Part I
It was the start of my nightmare.
“How do you expect me to come up with $300,000 in a month? I asked aghast.
“Oh, you will,” she smiled, full of confidence.
The lady wasn’t a loan shark demanding payment from a delinquent mark. She was a charming, extraordinarily well-dressed, highly intelligent Jewish Russian, determined to sell the haute couture she loved to ladies at out of the world prices in the heart o Calgary’s most exclusive, high-end mall. She was looking at me to finance her dream.
“We need the money for collateral so that the bank will secure our Spring collection. After that, you’ll have two more months to come up with another $100,000 for decorating the store. ”
I didn’t know what shocked me more. The preposterous nature of her demand or her unwavering belief I could find the money.
“Deliver the $300,000 on time and we’ll share the business equally. You can be the bookkeeper. I’ll do everything else. It’s going to be the biggest fashion success in Calgary.”
Despite Anna’s stellar record in the industry, no bank in their right mind would fund us. I took out all my savings, emptied my lines of credit, borrowed from my mum in England; a janitor at the University of Calgary; a peripatetic Economics adviser to developing countries, Uncle Tom Cobley and all. Somehow, I stitched together sums of $20,000s, $50,000s reaching my goal within hours of Anna’s deadline. I still had to find the other $100,000.
The store was constructed to Anna’s strict plan and under her direct supervision. It was beautiful, all done up in pale pastel yellow. With oversized mirrors installed in strategic corners, our 600 sq. foot space projected a room triple its size.
Then the shipments arrived. Their beauty and elegance brought tears to my eyes. Anna had conquered the hearts of the European fashion houses. We had the exclusive licence to represent Versace, Max Mara and the like. But how were we going to sell suits beginning at $1,000 ( the equivalent of $5,000 today)?
Anna Moda boomed from day one. Anyone who was anyone made it a point to visit our store- from multimillionaires to TV anchorwomen. We were the talk of the town. Right from day one, with no advertising, the grapevine, through Anna’s personal calls, produced $80,000 of sales a month, with only Anna and two part-time experienced saleswomen. The store was overcrowded with customers. Our performance was unheard of in Calgary’s retail history.
It was then Satan, the chief tempter, arrived in the form of Carol, the manager of the mall and Anna’s best friend.
“I’ve got a 3,000 sq. foot space opening on the main floor. With the rent you are paying now, based on your sales, you can take over the larger space at the same cost.
Anna jumped at the offer. Her brilliant CPA partner demurred.
“We haven’t finished our second season yet. I’m still paying off our private loans at a higher interest rate. Based on our sales forecast, we need to double our order for Fall. We now need to come up with at least $500,000 in advance to secure our future merchandise. Besides, how much is it going to cost us to renovate the new space? We’ll need more inventory to display in a space five times as large as ours. We’ll have to double our staff- you can’t go on putting in the hours you do now.”
We accepted the new location.
Our sales doubled. We were the toast of the town. No other store had our exclusive merchandise. We were competing with New York, Paris and Milan.
Calgary’s economy is oil-based. When oil prices suddenly collapsed, our sales went from a gusher to a drip. One month we were doing $120,000. The next, barely $10,000. Our now fixed base rent was exorbitant. Our enlarged staff had to be paid. We continued operating as we had done, praying for reprieve. The final months of our season loomed ahead. Where were we going to find more money to sink into the business for the upcoming season?
The economy continued to punish all of us. Interest hovered at 20%; homes were sold for $1 because the mortgage owed on them was far higher than their value. People abandoned the city in droves. No one knew how long it would last. I ran around like a chicken with its head cutoff. How was I going to borrow more money for an haute couture business in this climate.
Anna Moda was driven into bankruptcy. Anna moved to Toronto. My family home was foreclosed on. Our furniture confiscated and sold off at auction.
I never saw Anna again.
