West Elm is Robbing People with Their Deceitful Shipping Costs
My wife and I recently moved into a new, larger house. It’s a lovely home and we love it, but more space means more room for more furniture. And more furniture means more debates over what that furniture should be.
After some minor verbal jousting (being put in my place) we settled on a coffee table from West Elm. It was a little pricier than we (I) were hoping to spend, but this is a long term home. It makes sense to invest in nicer furniture now so we won’t have to replace it later, I’ve been told.
This particular table also happens to match the dining set she-…we want down the road, making West Elm the no brainer choice. And by no brainer choice, I mean the choice that would ultimately make me want to perform a lobotomy on myself.
The trouble started the exact nano-second I placed the order. Right as my brain made the decision to click “Confirm Order,” I noticed the price of the table was much higher than the price I had mentally agreed to. I checked the confirmation email to dissect the cost breakdown and was shocked to see we were being charged $160 (!!!) for shipping. Confused by how I missed this crucial piece of information, I went back to the scene of the crime to figure out what happened.
Bare with me as I break this down with some screengrabs.
Below is what you see when you make the mistake of wanting to purchase something from West Elm. (LIFE ADVICE: if you ever find yourself on West Elm’s site about to make a purchase, exit out of your browser, shut down your computer, and light it on fire.) Pretty normal looking web page, right? But wait.
The default shipping option is “White glove delivery.” You’ll also notice the only other shipping option is to have the item sent to the store, presumably meaning the only way to get a bulky piece of furniture delivered directly to your home is the White Glove Delivery method. Okay…but how much does it cost? That information is suspiciously omitted. Let’s keep pulling this thread.
Once you add an item to your cart and decide you want to purchase it (again, a huge mistake) this is the next thing you see. You’ll notice the “Shipping & Processing” is listed as “TBD.” First of all, I’ve never seen that before in my entire life. Second of all, at a quick glance, the price of the item is still what expect. No reason to be alarmed or back out yet, so let’s plow ahead.
Once you enter your address, there’s still no shipping cost listed, despite the fact we’re now in the “Delivery” stage of the process. And it literally says “Shipping” above the estimated delivery date. Seems like a place where you would reveal the cost of shipping. But hey, what do I know? I’m just a guy on the internet trying to tear down an entire company due to a minor life inconvenience. I digress.
Once you confirm the delivery info and go to the billing stage, there’s STILL NO shipping cost shown. It isn’t until you begin entering your billing info that the outrageous cost of shipping finally reveals itself.
Ah, there it is: $159 for shipping. Just in time for when you’re too distracted entering your credit card info to even notice.
Does the conspiratorial part of my brain believe this is intentionally deceptive on the part of West Elm? Yes. Does the logical part of my brain also acknowledge this is partially my own fault for not double checking the final price before confirming my order? Begrudgingly, also, yes. But we’re only scratching the surface of how terrible the customer service experience is at West Elm.
At this point this is still all just a misunderstanding. West Elm is clearly trying to scam people, but I’ll simply call and cancel the next day. So I thought.
When I called West Elm customer service the next day and told them I wanted to cancel my order, it was explained to me that the top half of the table had already been shipped, and that once an item ships, you can’t cancel the order. Wait wut? This was less than 24 hours after I ordered the table and they were telling me I couldn’t cancel it?
At that point, I hadn’t received a confirmation email saying anything had shipped. Curious, I checked my email while I was on the phone with West Elm, and lo and behold, there was a shipping confirmation waiting in my inbox.
I promise you this email wasn’t in my inbox before I called their customer service. In fact, I can prove it. Note the time and date of the email in the upper right corner: June 25, 4:04 pm. Now here’s when I called West Elm.
June 25, 4:01 pm. This was my smoking gun. Does the conspiratorial part of my brain believe they sent the shipping confirmation when they saw my phone call coming in so they could tell me they couldn’t cancel the order? Yes. Does the logical part of my brain think this could just be one giant coincidence? Hell no. This is a scam.
Now annoyed, I asked the customer service rep if I could simply return the table and get a refund. They said I could return the table, but I wouldn’t be refunded for the astronomical shipping cost, which would be the entire point of returning the table in the first place. Frustrated at the lack of solutions, I hung up.
As I sat at my desk following the call, I dug around on their website to see if I had any options. And to my shocked delight, I found an out.
“Home delivery items will be held until all pieces are ready.” If you recall, the customer rep I talked to said I couldn’t cancel my order because the top of the table had already shipped. But not the bottom. It seemed as if they had broken their own rule.
Armed with my GOTCHYA, I excitedly called back. I once again explained the situation to the new customer service rep and for good measure, double checked that it was too late to cancel the order. They re-confirmed: it was too late. Careful not to reveal my hand, I asked if they could also confirm that only the top of the table had shipped, which they did.
This was it. This was my moment. I had them right where I wanted them. I read what their website says verbatim: “Home delivery items will be held until all pieces are ready.” So why had only the top of the table shipped? Why wasn’t it held until the bottom of the table was also ready to ship? How on Earth could you possibly explain yourself and/or sleep at night?
The response was predictably upsetting: “While only the top of the table has shipped, our warehouse must have processed both pieces already.”
Huh? “We aren’t talking about PROCESSING, we’re talking about SHIPPING,” I argued. If both pieces were “ready” then why hadn’t they both shipped?
From that point forward, the customer service rep kept giving the same canned response over and over no matter what I said. Again frustrated by the complete lack of desire to help me problem solve, I hung up.
I was mad. Furious, even. But I had accepted my fate. West Elm had scammed me, but at the end of the day, I still liked the table. And I absolutely hate assembling furniture, so this wasn’t the worst thing that could happen in the grand scheme of life. Would I always look at the table with disdain? Absolutely. But I was ready to move on, and so I did. Until my doorbell rang a few days later.
I was greeted with this:
The definition of ‘white glove delivery’ varies depending on who you’re using, but I have yet to find anywhere that describes it as “ditch the item on the doorstep like an abandoned baby at a firehouse without saying a word.” Again, I never even wanted this service to begin with! But if I’m going to be bullied into paying for it, you better believe I want someone putting this thing together for me.
It was obvious no white glove delivery service was going to be offered. So I put my own soft hands to work:
As expected, the table was stupid easy to put together, justifying my frustration at being tricked into paying someone else to do it for me in the first place. A few screws and an Allen Wrench and we were up and running.
So, to recap the timeline:
Monday, June 24, 7:46 PM — accidentally order table with white glove delivery due to deliberately deceitful website design by West Elm.
Tuesday, June 25, 4:01 PM — call West Elm customer service to cancel order to no avail due to top of table already being shipped, despite West Elm’s website saying they don’t ship items until all pieces are ready.
Tuesday, June 25, 4:04 PM — receive shipping confirmation email for top of table while on the phone with West Elm customer service, preventing me from canceling my order.
Friday, July 5, 2:52 PM — table gets delivered sans white glove delivery service that I was bullied into paying for. I assemble the table myself.
I should be excited because West Elm handed me a slam dunk case to get my money back. They literally didn’t perform the service I paid for and I have visual proof. But as of this writing I still haven’t received a refund and don’t expect it to be an easy process. Needless to say, my wife and I won’t be buying the matching dining room set. Sorry, dear.
UPDATE (7/8/24)
I called West Elm customer service and asked for a refund. They rejected me. They claimed that the type of delivery I paid for was their “standard” delivery charge, despite being told the contrary on both my previous calls with them. I’m now officially being gas lit by West Elm.
Here is a chart on their website breaking down their white glove delivery charges.
Flate rate fee. Order up to $999. Distance <50 miles. Just so happens to be the exact price I was charged for my shipping ($159). But it could be a coincidence!
As if you need even more proof that they’re screwing me to my face, this is what I get charged for shipping when I go to order the table today using their “standard” shipping.
$47.92 sure seems a lot lower than the $174 I paid between the shipping cost and “delivery surcharge.”
The latest update is that I’ve now filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. I will take this company down at all costs. Join me in my personal revolution.
