Confessions of a Former Cabi Stylist
January 13, 2017
As I think about all that 2017 has in store for me personally and professionally, I find myself reflecting a lot about the past year. Currently, a number of my friends have gathered in San Diego for cabi Scoop – the biannual training and fashion show for cabi stylists. But I opted not to join them. For a number of reasons, I determined that it was in my (and my family’s) best interest if I cut my cabi career short, and I am going to tell you why.
But before I get into all the practical and philosophical reasons behind my decision let me start by saying I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE cabi clothes. I was first introduced to cabi back in 2009 when one of my good friends had a party. I was puzzled when I received the invite with adorable dress logo on the front – I had never heard of cabi clothing before and wondered what it was all about. I quickly learned that cabi is an L.A. based fashion company that sells boutique-inspired clothing exclusively through cabi stylists at fashion experiences or one-on-one shopping events.
At my first show, or fashion experience in company lingo, the stylist introduced us to the company and then presented each piece in the entire line to the group of women assembled in my friend’s living room. I was immediately drawn to some pieces, skeptical of other “trends” and a little put off by the price tags.
Nonetheless, I wound up trying on a pair of gray jeans, size 4, and they felt incredible. At that time I was about 4 months post-partum and my body was still transitioning back to normal. When I slipped those jeans on I looked good. And I felt good. And all the women at the party made sure I knew it. I had to have those jeans! I also picked out a cute black striped sweater that I could wear to work and reluctantly handed my credit card over for the $200+ charge. Each piece was just over $100. Up until that point I had NEVER spent that much on a pair of jeans. EVER!
But, fueled by the encouragement of all my friends (some old and some new, because getting half-naked in front of strangers is one way to cement fast friendships) and my very own “professional stylist”, as well as the unspoken but very real hostess expectation that I was going to purchase something, I went ahead and bit the bullet. And then I spent the next week regretting my decision.
I cursed the two glasses of wine I drank that night (I was still a nursing Mom at that point so wasn’t drinking much) and blamed them for my impulsive decision. I worried that the jeans wouldn’t look or feel as good as I remembered. I was afraid my new friends had misled me and the stylist just wanted to make a sale. In fact, I was convinced (and somewhat relieved) I’d be sending back the entire order.
And then the jeans were delivered to my doorstep. I ran to my closet to try them on and , , , they fit like a glove. I loved them as much as, if not more than, I remembered. They quickly became one of my favorite items of clothing and I was wearing them so much that I found myself scouring the Internet look for other colors. But continued to come up empty. (Regretfully, there is no picture of those jeans because that was well before I was taking selfies, I suffered from invisible-mom syndrome and never made it into the pictures I was religiously taking. And the jeans then became too big and so I lovingly donated them several years back).
I did not then understand that cabi only offered a very limited clothing line, containing one, or perhaps two, color choice(s) of each item each season. I also didn’t understand that I couldn’t purchase cabi on the Internet (this is not longer true). So, I was disappointed that I couldn’t find my new favorite jeans in another color.
Anyway, as much as I loved those jeans it was a couple years before I was invited to my second party. This time, when the invite came I knew what I was in for. I circled the date on my calendar and waited in anticipation for the event. When the Fashion Experience started I excitedly checked items on my try-on sheet and couldn’t wait to fall in love with some new pieces.
I didn’t love everything, but I was drawn to the business pieces and looking to upgrade my professional wardrobe. By then I was in a different place financially and the price tags didn’t frighten me [as much.] However, I decided the best way to maximize my dollar would be to host a show of my own. Hostesses receive a certain number of items at half price, as well as “cabi dollars,” which reduces their total out of pocket expense based on the size of the show.
We had recently moved into a new house, and the cabi name was still a relative curiosity to most of my friends. I knew those two
factors would attract guests. Plus, many of us still had young children–which allowed us the luxury of hanging out with our girlfriends during the after dinner hour when our spouses were home (those were the days – lol). I figured I’d host a show and see what happened.
And what a show it was! I think I earned 13 items at half-off. My sales were well over $4000. I couldn’t even use all the half-off items I earned becasue even at half-off thirteen items add up quickly. (At the time, hostesses had to purchase all their personal items at the time the show was closed. Now, hostesses can bank their unused benefits and use them at any time during the season, which is a huge advantage for hostesses.) I was thrilled with my new pieces and well on my way to becoming a true “cabi-girl.”
Over the next couple of years, the cabi name grew modestly in popularity and there was always a show or two I could attend to pick up some pieces. I had a couple more shows of my own, which never yielded the same results as that first show, but overall were worthwhile experiences. As the years passed, I noticed that more and more of my closet real estate was being taken over by cabi. But it definitely was a friendly takeover.
About two years ago, after I left my academic position and was floundering with what I wanted to be when I grew up, my stylist asked if I’d ever considered cabi as a career. I was mildly intrigued, but also scared senseless. I had never sold anything before. It also wasn’t the right time. I had a series of extended family obligations that caused me to split my time between two states and taking care of my own family and my extended family was a full time job.
Fast forward nine months later and the family saga had ended in tragedy. I was tired, sad, grieving, despondent and desperate for something new. When my stylist again suggested I consider a career with cabi I decided to hear her out. Now, if you take nothing else away from these posts, please, please, please take this away – DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT ever make a major life decision three weeks into the grieving process. Deciding to change careers and launch a brand new business while in the midst of brand new grief is not advisable. I picked cabi because it was offered to me at the right, but oh so wrong, time. I was ready to leave the sickness and sadness behind, to throw myself into something new, to live life to the fullest, to find some happiness again.
And I was completely and utterly incapable of making a rational decision.
DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT ever make a major life decision three weeks into the grieving process.
Nonetheless, I met with my stylist and she set out a strong argument, crafted directly by cabi, about why I would make a perfect cabi stylist. And I fell for it hook, line and sinker.
So last January, I packed my bags and headed to San Diego with 3500 other women for my first Scoop. After prior careers in law, academia, and education I was super excited to launch my fun new career as a fashion stylist, complete with a runway fashion show!! The trip was at once fabulous, did I mention the fashion show? frustrating, because of the lack of real, tangible training on either the line or how to sell it, and frazzling – it was really difficult for me to leave my kiddos behind during the school year. And my first Scoop coincided with my daughter’s 10th birthday. Sigh.
Sadly, if I am 100% honest, that Scoop was the highlight of my cabi career.
The trip was great fun! I got to know my new teammates–four of us joined our team leader for the very first time for the Spring 16 season and sadly, but tellingly, only one of us lasted beyond our freshman year. I enjoyed getting to know these ladies over fancy dinenrs and cocktails, and many of the stylists I met have become my friends. It was also nice to escape to warm and sunny San Diego in the middle of the winter and fabulous to attend a fashion show as part of my job.
But it was also uber-expensive.
To fly from my home in Pennsylvania to San Diego cost over $500. My three night stay in a double occupancy hotel room attached to the Convention Center cost me (just my half) another $450 and then there were food and other incidental expenses. Not only was it expensive, but it’s a VERY long trip for just a couple days. I had to cut the trip short in order to be back in time for daughter’s 10th birthday. That was non-negotiable. See, cabi promises a career without compromise – and I’ll be darned if I was going to let my very first experience with the company cause me to miss my only daughter’s double-digit birthday. After that first Scoop I was already dreading the annual cross-country trek, both because of the recurring cost and scheduling conflicts.
By the time I returned from Scoop I had sunk $2570 into my seasonal inventory, $1227 into travel expenses for Scoop, $55 for business cards, $188 for show supplies and $150 for marketing materials. That’s a total of $4190. The expenses were adding up quickly, causing me to get a little bit sick to my stomach. But I told myself that all new businesses require an initial investment and that I’d make my money back over time.
After all, before I agreed to join cabi, I talked to my team leader about the return on investment. She told me that she borrowed $4000 to start her business and had earned her investment back within her first month. I take full responsibility for not pondering this further at the time, but knowing what I now know this seems highly unlikely, if not impossible. It would mean that in her first four weeks as a cabi stylist she sold $16000 worth of clothes (because unless you have an extensive team assembled underneath you the highest commission you can make is 25% of sales. There are opportunities for bonuses in the early stages of your career, but they tap out around $200 per month). Per cabi’s own financial disclosures, $16,000 is a total that most first season freshman don’t reach all season, so it’s unlikely that my team leader reached that achievement in one month.
Furthermore, she also disclosed that her total sales for her first season were $22,000 – which would make her first month total of $16,000 highly suspect, for it would mean that 73% of all of her sales came in her first month. Perhaps, she meant that she sold $4000 worth of clothes in her first month – which is in itself noteworthy, but then she certainly didn’t earn enough to pay back her loan in that time. And even is she was a rockstar stylist, it was almost inconceivable that I would repeat that feat.
I blame no-one but myself for not recognizing this sooner, but I resent being misled when it comes to finances. You may recall that these conversations were going on just weeks after my sister-in-law passed away. I am not making excuses for my lack of due diligence, just highlighting that I wasn’t at my best and underscoring my point that one should not make major life decisions while in the midst of grieving. (If it seems like I am harping on this I am–because I have made the same mistake twice now and I don’t want anyone else to do the same.)
Anyway, I made it home from San Diego exhausted but excited and in time to celebrate my daughter’s birthday. Then, the following day, I felt like it was my birthday and Christmas rolled into one when I received my delivery of seasonal inventory!! Two giant cabi boxes arrived filled with every piece on the line and five pieces of jewelry.
I was so excited to start opening, tagging, hanging and trying on all these new clothes. I do feel fortunate that last Spring’s collection, La Dolce Vita, was stunning and easy to sell. Or at least it would have been had I lived in a bigger market. But as I was hanging clothes I quickly realized that there were very few pieces I could wear off my line, five pieces to be exact. I am consistently a cabi 2 in pants (very occasionally a 0), and an XS in tops. On rare occasions I can get away with a S. I typically have to have my jackets tailored because my broad shoulders require a 4, but then the rest of the jacket is too big. The majority of the line comes in size Medium, for understandable reasons, but was therefore unwearable by me. So, immediately after investing in the inventory and paying for the trip, I had to plunk down another $650 (even with my discount) to buy enough clothing to outfit myself in current season cabi for daily wear.
As a cabi stylist, I felt (and was repeatedly told) that it was extremely important to wear the clothes I was selling. First, every time I dressed in my “cabi-cutest” I was giving myself free advertising. And, if I expected other people to purchase my line, I needed to show them that I loved these clothes as well. I also feared being complimented on something that wasn’t cabi and felt it was a waste to wear clothes I couldn’t sell.
This feeling that I had to wear all cabi all the time, and showcase current cabi most of the time, is actually one of the reasons that I stepped away from the company (more on that later.) I also felt it was important to wear the more expensive pieces at fashion experiences to try and maximize my sales and commission, which meant I had to buy and wear the expensive pieces even if they weren’t necessarily my style. And to complicate matters, most of my clients in the beginning were all from the same cabi circle, so I was seeing them repeatedly throughout the season and thus needed multiple show outfits. I found that just keeping myself clothed in cabi was a huge expense. Incidentally, the more you sell the steeper your discount on clothes; but, early on when sales are slow and you have no equity in the business the discount is much smaller.
And then there are the New Arrivals.
Twice during the season cabi releases additional pieces in order to keep their customers interested and engaged. These pieces are NOT included in our seasonal inventory. They are available for stylists to purchase early using our personal discounts, but each piece we purchase is an additional cost. Every cabi stylist will tell you you can’t sell what you don’t have, meaning if I wanted to sell these New Arrivals I had to purchase (at least some of) them as well. That was another $640 into the business. And I only selected a total of 12 pieces of the approximately 30 New Arrival available.
Finally, there were also a series of expenses associated with entertaining. Each season is launched with a preview party, hosted by the stylist to show off the new clothes, generate enthusiasm, and book shows. My first preview cost $180. Throughout the season I hosted a series of Open Houses or Stop and Shops. Cabi encourages stylists to have a minimum of 16 shows each season, and when you are just starting out in the business often the bulk of these shows have to be hosted by the stylist herself. I spent a total of $890 on these events. When you add up all these expenses, it brings my total investment for my first season to approximately $6570.
In order to break even I needed to sell over $26,000 worth of clothes.
I came close, but didn’t quite make it.
Then, at the end of the season I had an opportunity to make back some of my initial investment by selling off my inventory at 50% of its retail price. I did pretty well with the “sample sale” (although I’ve still got some pieces sitting on my rack and cabi prohibits stylists from selling our inventory at consignment shops or on any online consignments sites, so I guess I’ll have these clothes that don’t fit forever) and I was able to recoup part of my seasonal inventory investment and almost close the gap between my expenses and my commission checks.
Although I finished my first season with a loss, it was a small loss. Not a huge deal in the scheme of things. Most businesses are NOT profitable in the first 6 months and my loss was relatively small. But still it was a loss. And I did a LOT of work to wind up with less money than I started with. Kind of a bummer.
And then I had to turn around and do it all again for the Fall season.
So I did. I believed that I had to give cabi at least one full year before I could honestly assess whether this was going to work for me or not. Plus., I had to renew my contract just twomonths into my first season, well before I had any idea how things were going to go. So I signed on the dotted line and hoped for the best.
Personally, I am a huge fan of fall and winter clothes. I have always liked cabi’s fall line more than their spring collection, so I had high hopes for my second season. With only slight trepidation, I once again plunked down $2570 for my line and booked my trip to Scoop, which thankfully I could drive to and set to work trying to book a profitable fall.
Sadly, it wasn’t the season I had hoped for.
You may wonder why I’m spending so much time on my financial investment and the return (or lack) thereof. Well, one of the reasons that I decided to write this post is because I think it’s important, crucial even, for women to understand the initial investment in the business. As I said before, I recognize that in comparison to many businesses, $6500 is not a lot of money to launch a business; but, it is a much greater investment that I was led to believe by both my team leader and the company itself. Furthermore, it is highly unlikely that this investment will be returned during the first two seasons, and these numbers are also not made clear until you join the company.
As I was doing my research on cabi before signing up, I read a number of other blog posts from a variety of different sites, which seem to seriously underestimate the amount of money necessary to launch a successful business as well as the ease of booking shows, selling clothes and turning a profit. I simply wanted to present a more accurate picture of the true costs involved so that other women could make more informed decisions.
In the interest of full disclosure – my second season was a personal disaster. Due to a series of family health issues I took the first month of the season completely off. I honestly had no choice, and remember . . . cabi promises a “career without compromise.” And while it’s true that I could work, or not work, as much as I wanted to, the financial ramifications of missing all of August were impossible to overcome. The season continued to go downhill as additional circumstances which included another family health crisis out-of-state prevented me from giving cabi my full attention during November as well. Clearly only working for ten weeks out of a twenty week season was not going to be profitable, and my second season was not a success.
I know it’s not fair to form a decision about the viability of this business opportunity based on these limited and unusual experiences; however, even before I was aware of the impact that family emergencies would have on my fall, my second season started to fall apart. Cabi encourages us to book our shows early. They say that we should rebook each hostess for the next season at the time of her party and then use “Book-it-Baby”, an accountability program, to book shows for the upcoming season before Scoop. I tried to implement these strategies to fill my fall calendar, but I didn’t have any luck rebooking my hostesses. This was due in part because my calendar wasn’t blocked that far in advance and with 3 kids I can’t and won’t block that far in advance. (Career without compomise, right?)
I understand that was my decision, and one I made against the advice of the company; but, honestly I couldn’t get hostesses to commit that far in advance either. The company regularly compares booking a next season show to booking your dentist appointment 6 months in advance, but I can’t even count the number of times I have had to reschedule my or one of my children’s dentist appointments. Life with 3 children just isn’t that predictable. As my experience with “Book It Baby” clearly demonstrates.
I participated in that program and was pleased to have 10 shows, with 8 hostesses other than myself, on my calendar before Scoop. At the end of that program I was feeling pretty good about my second season prospects. However, EVERY ONE of my August hostesses canceled either right before or right after the season launched. (This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I would have had to reschedule them anyway, but it was very disheartening). And then I lost two of the remaining ones in September after they saw the line previewed at other parties. (It was a pretty unimpressive line and one of cabi’s lowest-selling seasons ever. Overall company sales were more than 20% lower than they had been in the spring, and fall is usually the more profitable line because winter clothes cost more.)
There are a variety of reasons for the cancellations, but what it really comes down to is a) the price point of the clothes is too high for the income level of the general population where I live; b) people are reluctant to invite others to their homes in order to sell them something and routinely make the excuse they are “too busy”; and c) other cabi stylists were still operating in my area and because of my extenuating circumstance they beat me to the punch in showing the Fall line to potential customers, resulting in lost sales.
We are trained to address the cost of the clothes by explaining that cabi is unique in that our styles are “timeless” and meant to mix and match throughout collections and seasons, and that with proper care they will last a lifetime. Cabi emphasizes that their clothes are on-trend without being trendy. (This is true for some of the line, but certainly not for all or even most of it – imho). We are also instructed to educate people about cost per wear and in quality over quantity. And I whole-heartedly agree with this principle–I love my own streamlined closet and would much rather invest in a few key pieces each season (something that I ironicaly could not do as a cabi stylist) than continue to purchase disposable fast fashion– I can not, and will not, strong arm someone into buying a shirt that exceeds their budget for clothes. As lovely as the clothes are, it is just a shirt. And since cabi is a business built on relationships, I would much rather preserve my relationships then pressure people into buying items they don’t want, can’t afford, and don’t need.
After a dismal fall season, I sold less than half of what I did in the spring, I knew I wanted (okay needed) to take a break from cabi. I couldn’t imagine putting another season’s inventory payment on my credit card after the big loss I took in the fall. And I honestly couldn’t imagine how I would relaunch my business and draw in my first season customers who turned away from the brand in the fall due to the lackluster line and increased prices. I understand that it takes time to build a successful business, but I realized I was digging myself a pretty big financial hole to climb out of.
Then, additional family circumstances arose which made it easy and necessary for me to take a season off. And now, with just a few weeks distance from the company, I find that I don’t miss it. At all.
I don’t miss the travel (we are required to travel to Scoop twice every year), or the recurring inventory expenses, or begging people to have shows for me. I don’t miss the cancellations and driving two hours to a show where only one or two guests show up. I don’t miss customers asking me to be their bank or screaming at me because a pair of jeans is backordered. I don’t miss awkward conversations with my friends and family who have ignored both my requests to host and countless invites to Open Houses. I don’t miss a giant rack of clothes that don’t fit me hanging in my office. And I don’t miss the constant stress of trying to book shows in an economically depressed area.
Finally, and I know a lot of you are going to think I’m nuts for writing this (heck – I sort of think I am nuts for writing this), but I also don’t miss the constant wardrobe overhaul required of cabi stylists. Last January, as I was settling into my new role as a stylist, one of the things I liked best about my new position was the simplicity it brought to my life.
Although I resented not having inventory in my size (as I would have if I were a size 8-10) and having to spend a small fortune on supplements that fit me, cleaning out my closet and eliminating all the clothing clutter was definitely an unexpected perk to being a stylist. Knowing I was going to wear cabi made getting dressed easier. And although I struggled throughout the season with styling and wearing pieces I didn’t personally like or that I didn’t think reflected my personal style, my own closet became much more stream-lined over the past year. I really, really like the pieces that I have acquired and saved from season to season.
However, because of the cyclical and seasonal nature of clothing sales, as a stylist I had to reinvent my wardrobe every season. Not only is this expensive and sort of sad, because it means I can’t wear my favorite pieces as much as I’d like to, in many ways it also seems very wasteful to me.
I don’t want to purchase an entire new set of clothing each season, especially not when I love what’s already in my closet. I am working to simplify my life and constantly acquiring more clothes feels counterproductive. Plus, there is the added stress of trying to decide what to keep and what to purge. First world problems – I know . . . but ones I don’t really have the energy to deal with right now.
I also discovered that as much as I love cabi–I’ve already watched and re-watched the Spring 17 Fashion Show, created my Wish List and booked my show with a former team member–I don’t want to wear it exclusively. My sense of style is personal, it’s not that of cabi’s design team. I love my cabi, but I also love a lot of other brands and styles too. And I love to mix designers.
One of the strangest things to me was going to Scoop and seeing each of the 3500 women there dressed alike. The thing that initially drew me to cabi, and one of it’s major selling points, is that the fashion in unique and you won’t see yourself coming and going on every street corner. However, as cabi continues to grow as a company this boutique aspect of the line is fading. It felt very strange to be surrounded by thousands of women all wearing the same clothes. Even my children, who accompanied me to Scoop last summer, commented on it, and my oldest son said, “It’s kind of like a cult.” I think that’s when I knew I was not destined for a long tenure as a cabi stylist.
Don’t get me wrong, cabi can be a fun and financially lucrative company to work for. I even have some fond memories of my time as a stylist. I made new friends, had a fantastic time at Scoop, and enjoyed being part of the fashion industry. The company is committed to philanthropic causes both in the U.S. and throughout the world through their Heart of cabi and W.E. are cabi programs. They provide monthly “training” calls that provide a healthy dose of motivation and inspiration. There are opportunities to make connections to other stylists, clients and hostesses. Fashion Experiences are a fun way to spend an afternoon or an evening and merge the best of both retail and online shopping. And there are many women who have made cabi a great career. Several women have built huge teams (like in all direct retail businesses, team-building is the KEY to making any money), consistently sell $100,000 worth of clothing per season and absolutely love their careers. So, if you are a true fashionista who wants to wear only cabi and you have a huge network of women with significant amounts of disposable income, this might very well be the career for you.
But, I guess it turns out that I’m just not that passionate about clothes.
09/20/24 Edited to add:
It has now been over seven years since I abandoned my cabi career and only have a handful of cabi items still in my closet–one chanel-inspired jacket, a couple of turtlenecks, a dress, and a long-sleeved plaid blouse. That’s it.
Turns out their “on trend but not trendy” promise did not come to pass. Most of the items I collected were dated within two years and have either been sold or donated. And the quality over quantity argument also did not hold up. My favorite pants pilled, t-shirts stretched out, and two sweaters got holes in the them.
Plus, the prices, like everything else, have increased steadily over the last few years. Jeans that once cost $109 are now selling for $149, which is more than some of my favorite retailers. You can een find premium denim on sale for that price point. The cost just doesn’t make sense.
I have also, finally, developed my own personal sense of style. And cabi’s quirky prints, extra details, and less-than-quality construction just don’t do it for me anymore.