The hell that is returning packages

I bought something again. Not a swimsuit this time, but a nice overall (you haven't heard that word in a while, huh? Sa-lo-pet. I don't think since kindergarten, but then you had one with a strawberry on your knee, but it's back in fashion and I can already see myself wearing it this summer). It was also half the price, so easy peasy. But it was too small. And not in a 'I can fit in it' kind of way, but in a 'write that down on your fluffy belly' kind of way.

So, returning it. The trouble starts immediately. I want to keep the box and outfit together, but immediately there's the fear that someone will think: hey, a little box, let me throw that away. The most amusing part of this story is that no one in my surroundings thinks that (I can really put the pile of old newspapers right on the trash can and no one ever thinks: hey, I'm heading towards the paper bin, I'll take it all with me), but if there's something valuable inside that needs to be returned... Sure enough, it suddenly ends up with the bulk waste. Just like what happened once with a pair of Gucci boots we had borrowed for a shoot. But anyway, another story.

Ulla Johnson (my favorite) overall and box have safely reached the editorial team and now the return process can begin. For moral and practical support, I immediately ask decisive Annick to assist me. And you can take that quite literally. We put the form with the reason for return (too small, damn it) in the box and stick the attached return label on the box. We've done this before, it goes smoothly. Until now.

Now we just need to make an appointment with the courier service for a pick-up and we'll be all set.

We click on the link that MyTheresa offers us on the site and end up at DHL. They would like a waybill number, but that waybill number has suddenly disappeared from the return label. We try every possible number combination we find on the label, but everywhere we get: invalid, invalid in red.

So I call our friends at MyTheresa. She will send me a new waybill number and no, you have to return via UPS and not via DHL. I protest a bit that the DHL link was offered by them, but decide to focus my energy on making a new appointment. UPS. I need to call them. I get a friendly-sounding robot who wants to know what my postal code is.

Ten fifty-nine she doesn't understand so we do it again. A Zero Five Nine Cee Haa. Then follows a word rally where I say, shout, and scream the postal code and she responds with ‘I don't understand it, my fault, you can try it again’ which is followed by her repeating my postal code where the Cee suddenly became a Tee and I ultimately just got the question to bring the package to the nearest UPS office. I could have thought of that myself. Seventeen minutes ago.

For those who want a visual to the story, check my stories on @maybrittmobach.