Mondial Relay did me a favor (and I hate to admit it)
Some days, everything goes wrong. And then there are days when everything goes wrong, but you eventually realize (later) that it was actually the best thing that could have happened to you.
Today belongs to the second category. (I'm still not happy about it, though).
Act I: The package that never arrives
So. Mondial Relay lost my package. I won't retell the story; if you haven't followed the drama, it's here.
But while I was dealing with this administrative catastrophe, I still had to keep working (you know me, always doing a bit of everything, everywhere).
So, I used this "dead" time to test everything I had on hand.
The different fabric samples (you'll get an article on that next week), the warmth, the dog's "sweatability" factor, but also the "scratchability" factor of the "Velcro" fabric. Yes, these words exist. Maybe not in your dictionary, but in mine, they do. As the saying goes, the important thing is to be understood.
Act II: The Velcro that doesn't make the cut
"Velcro" is one of those components you don't really test because you think you know it. Everyone knows the "Velcro" type. It sticks. You pull. It unhooks. End of story.
Except, no.
Because there's the "Velcro" from Grandma's old first-aid kit from 1898 that still holds despite two hundred frantic un-scratchings over the years. And then there's the Velcro-type fabric that gives out on the two hundredth frantic un-scratching, pulled by a human with glassy eyes and a burning wrist (that's me).
Mine, obviously, was not of the same caliber as Grandma's Velcro.
For a product worn by a potentially active dog, potentially wet, potentially enthusiastic about rolling in something unspeakable and smelly, which will need to be put on, taken off, washed, put back on, etc., etc... a cycle of two hundred scratchings is not an acceptable quality level.
That's the kind of thing that leads to customer returns and a bad reputation.
And that's out of the question. The very idea of marketing something subpar is unimaginable to me.
Especially since the fact that the clothing is 100% adjustable is one of the things I care about most. So I'll have to think quickly and effectively to find a solution.
Act III: The unwanted realization
And then, the moment of truth, between two panicked thoughts and two phone calls to my Mom (always call your mom when there's a crisis, it's part of my basic "Anxiety" kit).
So, at that moment, it hit me, and I opened my eyes:
If the package had arrived normally at the factory
If the patterns had been approved
If production had followed the planned schedule...
I would have launched an entire pre-series with this "Velcro" fabric.
Four hundred units.
With a fastening system that wouldn't last...
The scenario that unfolded before my eyes then delighted me: first returns within a few weeks, dissatisfied customers, exchanges to manage, reputation ruined from the start, and the need to rework the component anyway, but in EMERGENCY mode and with a whole stock on my hands...
And... Mondial Relay saved me from that.
Unintentionally.
By doing exactly what they shouldn't have done (losing my SUPER IMPORTANT package).
Act IV: Changing the Velcro
Well, now we get to the not-so-fun part...
Countless sketches and brainstorms with myself.
In short, it's time.
It's money to find, test, and order new samples.
It's work (that no one sees because it doesn't exist in the final product) and which exists precisely so that the final product works.
That's product development in real life... Not the beautiful, clean scheme of a business plan. And frankly, it's scary!
Life and its succession of small problems, hopefully resolved before they become too big.
Conclusion: Thanks, I guess?
I still want my package back, just to be clear!
But if someone had told me in January that losing a prototype would save me from a bad pre-series, I would have laughed out loud. Maybe a forced laugh, but a loud one nonetheless.
The Velcro fabric is gone. The product will be all the better for it. And at least I have a story to tell you for the behind-the-scenes of Canithermo.
0 comments