Sandpoint Sale Has The Smell Of Christmas

They started lining up outside the warehouse before 7 a.m. Saturday, more than an hour before the doors were supposed to open.

Soon the credit card-wielding army of bargain hunters numbered in the hundreds.

Everyone had come for Coldwater Creek’s annual clearance sale, the yup and coming apparel-and-jewelry catalog company’s first at its new complex outside Sandpoint.

And from listening to those queued up next to the tan warehouse, one thing was certain: There, under a hot June sun, the 1995 Christmas shopping season was about to begin.

Though there’s still plenty of time for gift recipients to be naughty or nice, more than a few people had their lists in hand and sneakers on their feet.

“Got your running shoes on, I see,” someone in line said to a stranger every couple of minutes.

One woman, apparently giving her husband a pep talk, articulated the spend-to-save philosophy and warned against the tragedy of nonbuyer’s remorse. “Remember, fast decisions today,” she said before turning to another woman. “He likes to ponder, ponder, ponder.”

Then the doors opened. “!” someone exclaimed, sounding exactly like a fan rooting for a basketball team that had just hit a crucial shot.

Inside, shoppers were handed big paper bags by Coldwater Creek employees dressed in blue T-shirts adorned with a Native American-inspired beaded eagle design.

Bin after bin of merchandise beckoned beneath signs that said things like “Moose Sweatshirt/Was $32/Now $7.95.”

Maybe the mood changed later. But the shoppers who landed with the first wave seemed to be having fun. People complimented one another’s choices and reassured strangers trying on jackets or earrings with nods of approval.

Some people faced logistical problems, however. “How can I get you a Christmas present that will surprise you if you’re here?” one woman asked her male companion.

Others committed themselves to bulk purchasing. “I think I’m set, no matter whose name I draw,” said a woman with a big box.

“Need a bag?” a smiling employee asked a twenty-something woman who seemed adrift.

“No,” she answered. “I can’t find my husband.”

Before continuing her search, she stopped to check out a blue velvet broomstick skirt. , DataTimes MEMO: Being There is a weekly feature that visits gatherings in the Inland Northwest.