Short-sighted service

I have a beef with Specsavers.

I’ve been a user of its Lensmail scheme since 1999, getting my contact lenses sent to me through the post. Everything about the customer service I’ve received over the past 13 years has been exemplary, from my regular contact lens checks in addition to sight tests, to calling the Lensmail people with any enquiries.

Recently the service got better with more bonuses added to the scheme. I now get completely free sight tests, as well as free annual check-ups at the contact lens clinic and money off glasses.

I should be a satisfied customer, right? I really want to be. But there are two issues that bother me:

1. The Lensmail parcel arrives with only my lenses in it and a despatch note. There are no special offers included. I don’t remember ever ticking a box that told Specsavers never to send me marketing material. When I went for my last sight test, I had no idea it was free. A nice surprise at the time, but it could have told me sooner by including some of the lesser-known benefits of the Lensmail scheme in my parcel. Surely learning about those added extras may persuade someone considering leaving Specsavers for a cheaper provider to stay? It’s also prime position for third-party inserts. Some extra revenue for Specsavers just waiting to happen.

2. My other gripe is the way replacement lenses are handled. I recently tore one of my lenses and called customer services to arrange a free replacement—another benefit of the scheme. The person I spoke to was very helpful and said a replacement would be waiting for me in the store. But it’s a 28-mile round trip to my nearest store, I explained. Why couldn’t one be posted? It seems silly that a Lensmail service is unable to mail me a lens. If you ordered something online and needed a replacement, would a retailer only offer an in-store option? Of course not. That’s supposed to be the key benefit of “home shopping”.

It’s not a big deal, but it does seem inefficient—especially considering all the hype about “omnichannel”. Seems the concept still has some way to go before becoming reality. --MT

How not to relaunch a website

This weekend I received an email from a mail order company that will remain nameless. Its title was “New Website - Now Live! PLEASE READ”. Sounds scary, doesn’t it? It gets worse: “The new website may take up to 24 hours to become available online while the new site registers across the internet. If you still see the temporary page this is because it has not yet updated on your ISP's nameservers.” Say what?

Followed by:“Unlike previous websites our new website is completely automated. Please ensure your orders are correct when you place them as we may not be able to change them at a later date if an error is made prior to goods being despatched.”

This is wrong on so many levels. First, if the website hadn’t updated “on your ISP’s nameservers” why was this company promoting the relaunch? Seems strange that it would publicise a launch when it wasn’t confident that the site was truly live.

Second, adding that the website is now “completely automated” seems redundant to me. What did customers do before? Did they shop online, realise that they bought the wrong size or colour and then call up to change orders after they were placed? It must have been a common problem for the company to address it in a serious-looking plain-text email.

Third, the tone is all wrong. You’d think that relaunching a website would be a happy occasion with plenty to shout about. But this email doesn’t tell me why I should buy from the new site. There are no details on the new site’s features, nor is there any sort of offer to tempt me to click through.

What I would have suggested is soft-launching the site. If the bank holiday is a key sales period, it would have made sense for the site to go live earlier but without fanfare. That would have given the retailer enough time to fix any bugs before the important weekend. It could then follow up with a much more appealing email complete with images and a bit of information on exactly what was new—something that was sadly lacking from this email.--MT

Vive la difference

Last night, my boyfriend and I were looking online for some Christmas gift inspiration. It struck me that we use the internet in completely different ways, and I am sure I am not alone in noting how frustrating it is to watch someone else shop online.

For one thing, he never—and I mean never ever—types the URL straight into the address bar. Even if he knows it, and even if it’s Amazon! He uses Google for everything (yes, Google specifically, no other search engine will do). At least now I have trained him not to automatically click on the paid-search links and instead look through the organic search results first. I imagine Google’s fortune is largely made up of lazy customers clicking on paid links instead of typing the merchants’ URLs directly into the address bar.

When he doesn’t know where to buy the item he’s looking for he’ll type it into Google and use Google’s product search. I tend to use a comparison site like Kelkoo, a marketplace or eBay, or if I know a shop that might do it, I’d search for that seller and see what else comes up on the page. I also like to use Quidco, which my boyfriend thinks is a waste of time. (We’ll see if he still thinks that after I buy a tasty takeaway for us both with the saving I made on home insurance)

Tabs are another bone of contention. Say a search has thrown up several different options, I personally like to open each page in a new tab, assess each one and close the tab once I know I no longer need it. That’s not how he does it. He loathes having more than three tabs open at once. He thinks it makes the machine run slower, and for all I know it might, but I like it my way.

When we’ve settled on a product but don’t want to buy it straight away I like to bookmark the product using the social-media widgets. He didn’t even know what the “Addthis” button did. I am proud to have imparted some of my web wisdom onto him. I love the Addthis button. I use it all the time to send myself product reminders and send him suggestions. My boyfriend prefers to either save his basket, manually add the page to his favourites, or write the product number down somewhere. What we both agree on however, is that more websites should give you the ability to save the basket and return to it another time from another computer.

Luckily my boyfriend isn’t so trigger happy that he completes the checkout process without looking for discount codes first. At first I thought it was a girly thing to do, but now anecdotal evidence shows more men are now coming round to the idea of searching for vouchers.

What all this goes to show is that you can never assume that because you shop online one way, your husband, colleague, or customer will do the same. Even more important is user testing. It might be frustrating to watch people double-click a web link on your site, but unless you know how your customers want to shop with you, you'll leave a gap that your competitor will fill.—MT

Chums doesn’t want to be my friend

Yesterday I visited the Chums website to request some catalogues (all in the name of research, you understand).

Instead of filling in a request form, Chums--which targets the grey market with its range of “traditional clothing”--requires that customers add the desired catalogues to the basket and go through checkout to order them. A bit clunky, but when done properly it isn’t too much of a hassle. After all, this is also the system Cath Kidston uses for requesters of its magalogue and it works fine, as I can attest.

However, unlike the smooth process at Cath Kidston’s website (which even sent me an order-acknowledgement email to confirm my order of £0.00), Chums wouldn’t even let me into its checkout area. Apparently my order total was “too low” and I should “please add more items to your basket!”. No thanks, I only wanted a catalogue.

It made me wonder, what if I had been a would-be customer stumbling across the Chums site for the first time. Would I have bought something just to receive some catalogues? How many customers is Chums turning away because it won’t give away its catalogues so readily?

It’s possible that Chums relies on telephone orders for most of its business--or catalogue requests for that matter. But it’s worth remembering that even if most of your customers prefer to place their orders over the phone rather than online, that’s no reason for making a visit to your website a frustrating and unfulfilling experience.--MT