As I sit in a sweltering 110-degree Las Vegas afternoon, I find myself asking one simple question: Why did I make this trip?
The summer Las Vegas Market is different. Most of my customers are a lot smarter than I am; they’re on vacation somewhere with temperatures that don’t require oven mitts to open the car door.
Still, I have a few lines here that deserve my attention. There are new products to learn, new stories to tell and perhaps a better way to present them to customers this fall. That’s reason enough to make the journey.
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But market has always been about more than writing orders.
I was at market on Saturday for a sales meeting, and one of my factory guys asked me if I thought it was slow. I had to remind him the market didn’t open until the next day.
Saturday at market has its own personality. There are still boxes in the aisles. Some exhibitors are putting the finishing touches on their displays, while others are waiting for the first meaningful wave of buyers. Definitely a different vibe than High Point, where majors show up several days before the official opening and are gone before the security guards at the building start checking badges.
When appointments are spread out, I wander. Ironically, those unplanned walks often teach me more than my scheduled meetings.
I study showroom windows. I walk through Building C, where accessories, accents, artwork and décor create a world far different from the case goods and upholstery I spend most of my life selling. Those products may not be my specialty, but they’re what give retail stores personality, warmth and color.
As I walk, I start asking questions.
How does a company built around Halloween decorations make a living 11 months of the year? What about Christmas merchandise? Outdoor furniture? Or other industries like hunting gear, fishing equipment and golf accessories?
Many of these businesses have remarkably short selling seasons.
Are they driven by passion? Did they simply identify a market opportunity? Or have they mastered the art of generating enough business during a brief window to sustain the company for the entire year?
Then I realize the furniture business really isn’t all that different.
Massage chairs have seasons. Dining sets have seasons. Outdoor furniture certainly has seasons. Every category has moments when consumers are ready to buy and other periods when demand naturally slows or moves to different parts of the country.
Perhaps every business has its own calendar.
Today, I’m also spending time on the temporary sixth floor of Building B, where entrepreneurs display products in smaller spaces, hoping to become tomorrow’s major showroom tenant. I always enjoy that floor because every established furniture company was once just an entrepreneur with a product, a dream and the courage to rent a temporary space.
Maybe one of those startups will become the next big brand. Maybe that’s simply the nature of business.
Not every investment pays off every day. Sometimes you’re planting seeds instead of harvesting crops.
Markets aren’t just where products are introduced. They’re where ideas are tested, entrepreneurs are discovered, relationships are renewed and sometimes where we simply have enough quiet time to ask better questions.
My next appointment is arriving soon. Until then, I’ll keep wandering, keep asking questions and keep learning. And thankfully, I’ll be doing it inside an air-conditioned building instead of standing outside in 110-degree heat.
Because I’ve learned something over the years: Some markets you attend to write orders. Others you attend to write down ideas. Happy Market.
Mike Root is the owner of Furniture Sales of Mid America and writes regularly for sister pub, Furniture Today, where this piece originally appeared.
