Hats off to wig seller with empathetic ears

Jan Beeson started her uncommon retail business a year ago with three strikes against her.

First there was the economy, which was headed for free-fall as a result of an impressive display of greed in the financial markets.

Then there was her search for affordable accommodations, which led to the lower level of a building amid a bewildering array of identical-looking buildings in a Burnsville office park, where consumer traffic is nil.

Finally, there's the nature of her business, dubbed Lily Wellness Inc., a one-stop shop for the wigs, caps and other items used by cancer patients who are undergoing chemotherapy and radiation treatment.

It is not an undertaking that generates a lot of repeat business, Beeson conceded: Customers either recover ... or they don't.

Strike three!

It all adds up to a paltry $25,000 of revenue in Beeson's first 12 months -- enough to pay the rent and carry the inventory, and that's about all, she said. Her husband co-owns a legal advertising business that pays the family's bills.

"It was such a cold, impersonal atmosphere," she said. "The woman doing the fitting kept looking at her watch," as though Beeson's friend was an unwelcome interruption.

"I can do this better," she thought.

Her strategy involves a generous supply of empathy: "I spend the time to find out who they are, what they're feeling, what they need," Beeson said. "I try to deal with the tears and the anger, to help them get more comfortable with the transition.

"Sometimes, they just need to talk," she said. "And I listen."

Then there are the ones who wind up inspiring her, Beeson said, recalling the "breath of fresh air" who had ovarian cancer. The woman bought three wigs and said with some enthusiasm: "I'm really going to have fun with these."

She started the business with $5,000 of family savings and a $15,000 bank loan. The start-up was comparatively expensive, given her decision to provide a wide array of goods to save customers the stress of having to shop several stores to meet their needs.

Her reasoning: Potential customers not only are ill, but also have full lives and myriad responsibilities. Beeson recalled a customer who came in last summer. "She had two children and a full-time job; she just didn't have time to shop around."

Thus, Beeson carries 30 styles of hats and turbans and 35 colors and styles of wigs from six suppliers. And for those who have undergone mastectomies, there are bras, camisoles and swimsuits with pockets for silicone inserts.

There also are T-shirts and other apparel that carry the colored cancer-ribbon insignia and inspirational phrases: "Because I Can;" "You Become Strongest in Your Weakest Moment," and a favorite, "Cancer Sucks."

There also is a line of lotions, creams and face serum to treat the dryness and redness resulting from radiation and chemotherapy. Items for friends and families of patients include a variety of gift baskets containing such items as journals, books, chocolates, sleep caps and anti-nausea lozenges.

The friend's visit to that distracted wig vendor pointed the way. (There's some ensuing good news to report, however: The friend has responded to treatment and is now cancer-free.)

All of which leaves the question of why she named the business "Lily" Wellness.

"The lily was my mother's favorite flower," Beeson said. And she has decided that it's also an apt symbol.

"It's a lot like the women I serve," she said: "Strong and graceful."