LuLaRoe, the company behind the buttery-soft leggings craze, announced that they will be offering customers something that is elusive to many of us: happiness.
That’s right, folks. If you have been one of the many unfortunate customers who have experienced the infamous “wet toilet paper” tearing of your brand-new leggings, LuLaRoe is about to put some serious happy right back into your bank account.
The company announced that, effective April 25, 2017, they will be accepting returns of any defective leggings or clothing purchased between January 1, 2016 and April 24, 2017.
Customers can apply for a full refund, LuLaRoe gift card, or replacement leggings by contacting the LuLaRoe consultant that sold the defective merchandise. According to the LuLaRoe website, the company wants customers to feel good about their LulaRoe purchase and every effort will be made to “Make Good” on their promise of a quality product. And effective April 25, they have a new Limited Warranty policy that is good for six months after purchase.
Thousands of customers have been complaining for months about shoddy workmanship and leggings that end up hole-y on the first wear. Legions of disgruntled leggings fans have flocked to Facebook groups to air grievances, share information on how to get refunds, and band together against a company that is seemingly negligent in regard to major production issues and customer service complaints.
Customers are rightfully angry that spending $25 or more on LuLaRoe clothing is tantamount to flushing their hard-earned money down the toilet. I mean, what good are those leggings that took you months of searching in Facebook groups to find if you can’t wear them to a moms’ night out?
Well, my leggings legion, it seems those in the LuLaKnow may have finally listened.
And they are promising they want to “Make Good” on their products.
Sounds great, right?
Well, it is, sort of. For the customer, at least.
Of course, there are catches. Because yes, this does sound too good to be true, right?
All claims have to be made by July 31, 2017, and the claims are contingent upon the consumer being able to track down the consultant who sold them the defective leggings.
Let’s take stock here: How many LuLaRoe groups do you currently belong to? There are women who belong to upwards of 200 groups, all in hopes of finding their little slice of unicorn buttery goodness. Also, pop-up shops crop up everywhere from flea markets to school fundraisers. Does LuLaRoe honestly think that consumers will have an easy time finding their initial consultant? I think that’s the point here, ladies.
Further, to make a claim that you’ve purchased defective leggings, you must have proof of purchase. According to the LLR website, “proof of purchase must include a copy of the original receipt. A copy of a bank statement reflecting the purchase and identifying the authorized Independent Fashion Retailer is also acceptable.” Unless your consultant is printing an invoice, or writing out a paper receipt, at each craft bazaar, which you then folded and kept neatly in an envelope, then you’re SOL on this option.
But you can go ahead and comb through all of your bank statements to find the purchase of the specific leggings in question. For the women who have purchased multiple items in multiple online sales, this is going to be a real pain, and a huge time suck. Again, I think LLR knows exactly what they are doing here.
LuLaRoe is banking on the fact women won’t go through the hassle of tracking down their little piece of LuLaRoe customer satisfaction.
While LuLaRoe seems to be making a valiant effort to regain consumer confidence in their product, it’s their consultants who, yet again, are going to get screwed by LuLaRoe’s shady business practices. Sure, LuLaRoe can talk a big game about replacing defective leggings, but who has to bear the financial responsibility of that action? You guessed it: The 80,000 consultants that LLR has conned into selling their products.
Let’s say a consultant sold a pair of leggings last year to a very excited customer in a Facebook group. The consultant, unaware at the time of LuLaRoe’s shitty quality control, happily sells a pair of unicorn leggings and collects her $25 fee. Because LuLaRoe preaches that their consultants should use their profits to buy more inventory, that consultant then takes her $25 and buys more leggings. And while, yes, she’s now purchased another set of leggings that she can then sell, essentially that $25 is now gone. If she decides to assist you with your return, that $25 is coming out of her bottom line.
And LuLaRoe just announced to customers that they are entitled to get their money back from consultants who likely do not have the liquid assets to cover the volume of returns that they are inevitably about to process. So, yes, customers are going to get a whole lot happier with the LLR brand, but consultants are about to get a whole lot angrier. Further, the company announced that the customer won’t have to pay for shipping when they do their return. You know who will have to pay shipping? That’s right, the consultant. And as of now, there’s no reimbursement process for them.
Angry consultants are already airing their grievances about LuLaRoe’s new policies. Many are asking what recourse they have in regards to the hundreds of dollars of merchandise they’ve had to trash because of holes, rips, and defects. Consultants are wondering out loud as to how they will find the refund money in their family budgets and how exactly they are expected to handle these unexpected shipping costs.
And the ultimate question: How long will it take for LuLaRoe to refund their consultants for all of the wholesale costs for the defective merchandise they’ve accepted in customer returns? I know I have three pairs of leggings that have holes in them and that means my consultant is going to be out $75 and shipping to make me happy, with no timeline for when she will see her reimbursement from LLR headquarters.
So go ahead and celebrate that you will be getting a refund from LuLaRoe. Well, if you can find your receipt, and your consultant(s). Because from where I’m sitting, I’m guessing LuLaRoe knows exactly how complicated they have made their “Make Good” promise.
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