July 1, 2005

At Dorene Day’s booths at Maxi Mall in St. Petersburg, you’ll find towels hand-edged in lace, and inspired service.

By Lateefa Morehouse

At Dorene’s Floral and Furnishings you won’t find an endless ocean of merchandise, workers in blue vests, yellow smiley faces or droves of shoppers. But you will find Dorene Day, smiling, offering you conversation, anecdotes, spiritual insight and décor advice.

Dorene doesn’t deal in volume; she deals in value. Instead of low-low prices, she promotes service. And instead of an army of hired greeters, the only greeting you’ll get here is from Dorene herself.

The 10 booths she runs at Maxi Mall on 34th Street South may be overshadowed by big-box retail, but the intimate atmosphere and come-to-the-rescue service keeps her customers faithful and her business thriving.

Consider the plight of Mattie Daniels of south St. Petersburg. She’s in charge of decorations for her 45th high school class reunion in Graceville, Fla. She has her color scheme picked — pea green and pink — but has only 10 days to find centerpieces to match the tablecloths and place settings.

But Daniels doesn’t head off to the nearby Kmart, or even to the Wal-Mart Super Center that just opened a few blocks from the Maxi Mall. Instead, she goes to Dorene’s.

“I have so much to do to get ready for it,” she confides.

“I’m going to ease that burden for you,” Dorene promises.

Daniels happily surrenders to Dorene’s control: “Do whatever you want to do. You know you hook it up.”

Daniels is just one of many customers who followed Dorene four years ago when she moved her business south on 34th Street South from Miami Fashion District flea market to the Maxi Mall.

“She’s so kind,” says Daniels. “She never turns you down no matter what time of day you come in.”

Dorene doesn’t run her business by the clock or the bottom line.

You won’t find a sign at the cash register that says “NO REFUND.” She’ll offer discounts on the fly. She doesn’t feel the need to lock her booths when she leaves. And she thinks it’s her destiny to serve as much as it is to sell.

After all, she says, God put her here to make life a little nicer for the people who pass through.

“I always stay up on what people need,” she says. “Especially if it’s just to be nice to them.”

Dorene Day, 49, and her husband, William, moved from Brooklyn, N.Y., to the Lakewood Estates neighborhood of St. Petersburg in 1991. She is 5 feet 5 inches of God-fearing enthusiasm and confidence. Her skin is a glossy caramel. Her hair is bleached yellow-gold, and hangs in a ponytail from a corner knot. Silvery eye shadow emphasizes the shape of her dark brown eyes. She greets everyone who passes her shop in a soft voice, eclipsed by a distinct Brooklyn accent: “How ya’ll doin’?” “Hey friend!” “Hey family.”

“I love people and I love to talk,” Day says. “I don’t want people to just walk by. It’s very important that I make contact with them, even if it’s just a smile.”

The booth that serves as her office doubles as a living room, open to all. She can be found there playing memory games on her computer or lounging on her cheetah-print sleigh sofa, watching movies on the VCR and munching peanut M&M’s. If she’s feeling spiritual, she reads her biblical concordances or listens to gospel music. Children of other booth operators flock to Dorene’s while their parents work.

“I don’t think we should get too high-minded that we can’t enjoy ourselves,” says Dorene. “I think business should be flexible.”

She works about 60 hours a week and at the end of the day she still feels energetic. She creates an atmosphere that is both laid back and buoyant. But that doesn’t mean she’s not paying attention to business.

“The struggle is making sure prices are competitive, finding new items to sell, and paying rent,” Dorene says. “The struggle is also to maintain so many spaces.”

Dorene faces the challenges of any small business owner and then some. She felt the slump of the economy after Sept. 11, 2001. Last May, the Maxi Mall was looted by a mob during a race-related disturbance; May estimates $1,500 worth of her merchandise was destroyed. At one point, she was thousands of dollars behind in rent at the mall. But she never considered closing the shop.

The latest blow came five months ago, when Wal-Mart opened. But instead of trying to compete, Dorene went in the other direction and tried to put distance between herself and the megastore.

“I ain’t afraid of no competition at all,” she says. “I know God gave me the creative ability to create stuff nobody else can.”

Dorene makes towel sets adorned with chunky pieces of lace. She whips up customized shower curtains, kitchen towels and floral arrangements to meet customer’s specifications. When the flow of business slowed down, she hired herself out as a wedding decorator. She carries decorative water tanks and a wide selection of Afro-centric home décor and art.

None of that, Dorene says, will be found at Wal-Mart.

Nor, she adds, will her brand of personal service.

Despite the fears of her fellow retailers at the Maxi Mall, Dorene argues that Wal-Mart has been good for them.

“Other businesses thought Maxi Mall was going to go shut down,” she says. “I encouraged them (that) it was going to get better. The workers who get paid over there, come right back over here and spend their money. We ain’t shuttin down nowhere.”

Dorene gives direct credit for her resilience and optimism to God. And she says it was God who led her into self-employment.

It happened 10 years ago, when she lost her job at Girls Inc., a social service program in Largo, Fla.

“I cried after getting fired,” she says. “My husband said I had only one day to cry.”

The next day she began job hunting. But despite having a degree from the College of Human Services, now called Metropolitan College of New York, she wasn’t getting any offers.

She turned that into good news.

“I believe that God didn’t want me to find work,” she says. “A voice told me to go to Miami Fashion flea market on 22nd Avenue South and look at two empty booths.”

Dorene followed the voice to the flea market, but didn’t have any money to rent the booths, so she decided to leave.

“As I was walking out the door, the voice said, ‘Go back and get the booths.’ On the way back I asked God what to do. God said, ‘Use a credit card.’ So I got the booths with nothing to put in them.”

She started making arts and crafts. She sold little girls’ dresses and custom-made socks trimmed with lace. Then she started designing mirrors framed in wicker and canvas and decorated with lace and silk flowers. A few customers found her and told a few more. And they told a few more.

Dorene’s new business seemed to be off to a good start, but she was making one big mistake.

“I used to go to wholesale warehouses and buy. Then resell for the wholesale price. I didn’t have any business sense,” she says, laughing at herself. “I didn’t go to school or nothing. In fact, I thought I was making money.”

But in time, she learned. She brought in more inventory, created new designs and expanded her two booths to 10, open to all who come by, whenever they need a little boost.

“God never shows us the big picture. He shows us the little things first. I couldn’t understand why my spirit told me to get two booths with nothing to put in it,” she says. “I bought a vision. I had nothing but a vision.”

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I graduated from the University of South Florida in May 2005. During my time there, I was a news reporter for the USF student newspaper,…
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