Today I am unpacking all my feelings about returns. I have lots of them. Over $750B worth of goods every year in the US alone are returned, and most people do not know that a good portion of those items end up in landfills, full stop. It’s depressing; one of the most visible markers of American gluttony and unfettered consumerism.
Who hasn’t seen (or been that person themself) someone at WholeFoods or Kohl’s or UPS with an IKEA bag full of inexpensive items to scan back for an Amazon return? This fall, I stood behind a twenty-something while she unloaded no less than sixteen stretchy Halloween costumes, ripped out of their packaging, back to the UPS guy who was lethargically rescanning and packing them with a podcast in his earbuds. And who knows the amount of lace onesies that Amazon instructed her to just keep instead, quietly implying “here - YOU throw these in the trash.” She turned to the line behind her. apologized, but I don’t think my admonishing stare created a lasting effect on her purchasing behavior.
This story is all too familiar and it’s got a thorny set of issues in the way of a solution. Why would a retailer accept so many returns? Why would they tell you to keep them instead of taking them back? Can this continue ad infinitum?
It likely cannot; when I speak to executives at large retailers, returns are one of the top issues they face, given that 30% of e-commerce purchases and 17% of in-store buys are sent back, and often, those items if open-boxed or out of season, run the risk of sitting in warehouses and on balance sheets without a good course of disposition. You see, the problem compounds itself; the longer something takes to get returned, graded, refurbished, and restocked, the harder it is to dispose of. Let’s follow an example of a return journey:
A $450 Balenciaga hat gets returned from an online purchaser back to a retailer like Nordstrom. That hat needs a shipping label printed back to the DC it came from, which Nordstrom pays for ($4-7 on average - and that is not counting some of the new at-home courier pickup options like Veho or Returnmates, that charge an additional $5-10). Depending on the condition of that item (let’s say the tag was ripped off, there is a mark on the brim, and the plastic polybag it came in is gone), the item needs to be graded and refurbed, which can cost up to $18 all in. Then the item has to be resorted and re-stocked back at the DC, which costs on average about $0.50-1.50. If the items is still in season, it can be resold for full price, but if it comes back late, the item will need to be price matched on sale, call that $270. At this point, Nordstrom is breaking even on the item’s cost but already at loss from a profit standpoint! But now, let’s say that item doesn’t sell through after 90 days on sale, then the item is resold via liquidation, where the retailer will keep somewhere around 10-20% the value of the good (while accumulating implied warehousing fees). The math on that looks like this:
And this hat is still far more salvageable than other items, because it is luxury, sizeless, and high margin. What happens to the goods that are not so name brand, or expensive? Like a Halloween costume from Amazon (whose wholesale cost is likely less than all these fees above)? That answer is, just like Oscar the Grouch, it is destined for life in the trash can.
So what can brands and retailers do about all these returns?
For one, retailers are clapping back. The Cut published a story last week, highlighting how some retailers are beginning to track and ban bad actors from returns, in an attempt to curb bracketing (buying 3 sizes and keeping one) and wearing/styling items with tags before returning. In the future, brands will be able to look at customer behavior and generate a tailored return policy for each shopper, to reward good behavior and curb the sinful (startups like Orita are doing this).
Retailers like Zara are also beginning to charge for returns and restocking, in an attempt to bring transparency back and acknowledge there is a cost to all this convenience.
Mostly, though, we are seeing an enormous swell in liquidation. New startups are cropping up in every major consumer category to deal with excess liquidation stock, largely caused by returns. We see it in luxury (YaySay, ShopThing), mass apparel (BinStar, Ghst), food (Martie), electronics (B-Stock) and even industrials (Amplio).
Sadly, I do not see an end to the gluttony, and so I don’t see an end to the need for returns reform or the continued need for liquidation solutions. It will be interesting to see if retailers can start reward customers for keeping items, and it will also be interesting to see if MSRP pricing will have flexiblity and tailoring as as a means to ensure a satisfied sell through. For now, we should all think about the real solution to this problem: how do we buy less stuff?
Totally agreed that in many cases, the math doesn't math and the general sense we get from the Cut article is that there have been a fair share of people who are shamelessly taking advantage of lenient policies.
However, would like to also note the deeper root causes of issues like bracketing. Assuming that a significant number of people start with good intentions, the problem still exists because businesses have not figured out to help people decide which version of the item works for their body/whether it works at all! Very few people can see, for example, a 34'' shirt online and glean how that material is going to fall on their body, will the buttons gape or the armholes feel constricted when they lift up their arms, whether it will make them feel good or not. Some solutions like Sizebay and Easysize attempt to fill this gap, but even then, adoption across industry has been spotty.
And that's one line of thought - but there's a theme here right? It's a broader problem of how do businesses help people figure out if the product is right for them? How can they hit the nail on the head (as efficiently as possible), and drive down the risk of returns? For commoditized products like those Halloween costumes, there's not a lot of investment spent upfront to differentiate the product and find the right customer, and so my theory is that the "cost" doesn't disappear, it just shifts down funnel to cost of returns.
I also wonder if too many businesses have also simply been eating the costs of fulfilling a core customer need/value in this day and age, convenience, when instead more of them could value it properly and get customers to pay for it. It seems like ASOS attempted it, but maybe just didn't execute well ("unlimited" for starters tends to invite extreme behaviors, not sure who did the $24.99 math on that one).
I'd reframe the last question a bit, and this is coming from someone who sometimes takes years to decision on buying something simply because I hate the possibility of doing a return.... I don't think businesses want us to buy less [of their] stuff - that's not good business! I'm not a very good customer in many cases! Maybe something more aligned would be - how do we buy the right stuff? How can businesses help customers buy the things we will value and will serve us well? And do it in one go? And then if we get it wrong, how do we handle the discard pile with care and love and respect for the precious resources it took from the planet to create it ~
By the way I still have the sweater from Bow & Drape. Going 10 years strong :)
The math doesn't math and I'm glad you showed it here -- I had a defining experience in college that changed my shopping behavior around returns. I purchased a shirt from a Zara in Milan and instantly had buyers remorse. I turned around to return it (without having left the store) and my American consumerist behaviors were exposed. The associate informed me there are no returns and no exceptions to the policy. I'm no saint, but that moment changed how I shop for the better.
A former colleague of mine just launched Comeback Goods, chipping away at the returned inventory problem. https://comebackgoods.com/
Excited to follow your work here.