I ordered this pretty frock for a special occasion from my favourite online store, asos. Yes, after their rebranding, the name is all written in lower case (I like that). So anyway, so excited was I to get this dress in my little mitts that I even paid an extra $30 for speedy delivery (7 days). Plus, I already had an occasion in mind I was planning to wear it. It would give me at least seven days before the event in case I wasn’t as sold by the frock on the model as I was on my body.
Since the August 24, when the dress was supposed to be delivered I have been checking the mail in anticipation of that post office slip and it never arrived. Nothing. I went into the post office with the tracking number asos supply you with when you order express delivery but they told me they could not help. It was the incorrect tracking number. What I needed to provide them with was a tracking number that contained letters. The Marie Claire Prix d’Excellence de la Mode came and went. Steaming, I sent off a mail of complaint to asos demanding an explanation and they came back to me with a we’re-experiencing-a-high-volume-of-emails-but-we-will-do-our-best-to-get-back-to-you-as-soon-as-possible email… and then days later an email with a scanned in delivery noted signed by someone called Kedibone at customs including a contact number, some other unhelpful details and yet another tracking number with no letters. Umm… what does asos expect me to do? Call Kedibone and ask her where the hell my dress is? Surely that’s up to them to investigate? I paid for it to get delivered to my doorstep.
Frankly, I don’t want the dress anymore. The event has passed and my belly is growing – among other things… I really don’t care if Kedibone is wearing my dress. And, dear asos, I still love you but I just want my money back. I saw this really cute maternity frock I’d much rather have anyway. And I certainly won’t be wasting my money and time on so-called express delivery.