Great Lengths to Pick Knits : Sale: Women camp out for days in parking lot to ensure their chance for bargains at the annual Thanksgiving sale of high-priced St. John clothing.
IRVINE — Neither blazing sun nor chilly nights nor threat of rain can keep Marlene Madsen of Seal Beach away from “the thrill of the hunt.” But it’s not furry creatures that she and neighbor Dottie Black have come to search out in this Irvine parking lot where they have lived for days in a tent.
The target: a sale.
As they have for the last 11 years, they have come to bag St. John designer clothes, shoes and accessories from previous seasons at 50% off or more. The annual Thanksgiving weekend event attracts from 600 to 1,500 women, many of whom set up camp to ensure an early entrance to the 10,000-square-foot warehouse full of St. John goods.
Internationally known for its fine knitwear since 1962, the label appeals to everyone from professional women to the ladies’ lunch crew because the quality and classic styling of the clothes have long outlasted most fashion fads.
Which is why landing a dress that was originally $690 (price tags start there and go up) for $225, or a $260 pair of satin sling-backs for $100 is reason enough for Madsen and Black and their fellow bargain seekers to leave behind the comforts of home and family, fending for themselves over Thanksgiving to attend what they consider the sale of the year.
“Men get to go camping and hunting,” said Madsen, an interior designer who has been coming to the sale for the last decade and spends about $1,000 a pop. “This is our big hunt for a bargain.”
It is also an opportunity for many who would otherwise never be able to afford St. John, such as Vicky Hadley, an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department. A six-year sale veteran, she not only comes well prepared for the overnight stay but has created a special St. John bank account where she can tuck away cash throughout the year. She has spent as little as $175 and as much as $800. Her two sons, she says, know Thanksgiving means going to their grandparents’ house in Palmdale.
“This is my cruise across the ocean. My chance to relax and indulge,” she said. Not so for her best friend and co-worker, Rita Hall. Sitting next to her in a beach chair, she is cramming for a paper due Monday for school.
Others catch up on their reading, but even more say the camp-out allows them to catch up on gossip. After all, many of these women haven’t seen each other since last year’s sale. They comment on how much Kelly Gray, the St. John vice president and the 27-year-old daughter of the owners, has grown since the sale started 12 years ago. Gray and her parents, Bob and Marie Gray, visit the campers--who they say are like friends--throughout the holiday weekend.
They exchange tales of previous years, like the husband who came in a tuxedo and served his wife breakfast in her sleeping bag, or the cocktail hopping they did from RV to RV back when campers were allowed to line up.
“Those were the days,” reminisced Cynthia Robbins-Perley of Long Beach, who was among the first to arrive Wednesday afternoon with her mother, Linda Robbins, and her cat Babby St. John--named after her favorite label--and decked out in a pink St. John sweater her owner altered.
“I spent $1,169 my first year. I’ll never forget that number as long as I live.” Ten years later, Robbins-Perley says her biggest spending spree was $7,000 one year. Although she buys St. John at regular price throughout the year, she says, “you can’t beat the bargains here and the camaraderie is unbelievable.”
Still, Robbins-Perley, who was roughing it in an ornately printed silk Windbreaker and jeweled ballet flats, had two professional sitters come Thursday so she could sneak away for a few hours to spend Thanksgiving with her family.
By nightfall Thursday, the back lot of St. John’s headquarters was a tent city, with generators fueling televisions and battery-operated lamps. The company supplied outside heaters and portable commodes, on-site security, coffee and munchies 24 hours a day and a Thursday evening catered meal.
Some slept alfresco on cots, gazing at the starry nights and to guard their place in line.
The veterans collectively recall that the worst year was not when the winds whipped their skin dry or the rains soaked their sleeping bags, but the year of the lottery. In an attempt to save the women the trials of the outdoors, the company tried distributing numbers by lottery. Thousands of women showed up for a few hundred tickets to buy goods. Even more devastating, the veterans recall, was that they missed out on the fun of camping out and making new friends. The next year, the Camp St. John tradition returned.
Three years ago, a labyrinth of ropes was placed in the parking lot to ensure that the first who came would be the first served.
As happens each year, numbered tickets were to be distributed this morning, the day after Thanksgiving. Then everyone can go home, returning for one of five 90-minute sale sessions to be held Saturday and Sunday. Nos. 1 through 75 will get first dibs at the merchandise at 8 a.m. Saturday, and so on.
About 45 St. John employees will be on hand to assist and keep order through the frenzy and to make sure that “everyone comes away happy,” said Marie Gray, St. John’s head designer.
Lompoc resident Billy Iverson would have been happy had this story been kept out of the paper. “We really don’t like the publicity,” she said laughingly. “We don’t need any more competition next year.”
