LUXOMANIA, Confessions of a salesgirl in the secret world of luxury.

Like a Robot

At first, I'm kind of a spare tire, or more specifically a service temp during the break-in period. Shuffled from one department to another, I'm putting price tags on items in the stock room in the basement in the morning, I'm dusting the counters in the leather department later in the afternoon, then I continue on to women's ready-to-wear and finish the day off by sorting out the stock room. I don't have a fixed job and it's a bit of an adventure. I take my lunch break when it suits the others and it's rare that anyone asks my opinion. Always kept at a distance. But it doesn't discourage me. Melany continues to plot her strategy in the morning and sometimes briefs us twice a day. Soporific. I'm there in body, but my mind is elsewhere.

In this epicentre of luxury, the atmosphere is light and punctuated by gossip and stories from the world of sales. I begin gradually to put a name to the faces of customers and to identify the salespeople.

- "How long have you been working here, Suzanne?"

- "Oh la la! I've been here thirty-five years. I was here when the first store opened in Paris. Now I'm part of the furniture ... I'm like a fossil!"

- "Thirty-five years ...?"

- "I took this job when I arrived in Paris, just as something short-term. Originally I'm from Lebanon. Montezzo was looking for salespeople who spoke fluent Arabic for its Middle Eastern clients. And then, you know how it is ... it's only the temporary that lasts! Watch out darling...

Each day a new act plays out in the drama of the house of Montezzo. You just have to wait for the curtain to rise. I sometimes wonder how so many comical situations can occur one after the other in a world that prides itself on being so serious and formal. Montezzo trains each salesperson like a luxury army. They are little soldiers fashioned in the image of the house. Professionals right down to their fingertips, bilingual and somewhat cultured, they recite their daily lesson by heart. They have had special training and are always ready to serve. Will I also be programmed like a multifunctional robot? I don't really have a choice. I have to follow the rules like everyone else. However, despite this iron clad discipline, there is always a twist or an unexpected turn that throws a kink in the well oiled war machine. And I find myself in the balcony watching this tragi-comedy.

•

The phone rings. Tatiana, daydreaming, pounces on the receiver to answer.

- "Montezzo Faubourg, Tatiana, hello, how may I help you?

- "This is Melany. Can you tell me why you're sprawled out over the counter?"

Tatiana is paralyzed. Taken aback. Her eyes are darting left to right at full speed. Her brain tries to re-establish a connection.

- "Can you hear me?", says Mélany again. "Stand up straight in the store, you're not serving drinks in a bar!"

Caught on the camera directly connected to the director's office, Tatiana has just been told off.