The Cartier Guarantee
Friday, July 27th, 2012One summer forty years ago when I was young, slim and rich I took a holiday to eat at all the Michelin 3 star restaurants in the south of France. Driving back to London in my new Rover 3500S I stopped in Lyons for lunch. It was the 9th September 1972. I went into a tobacconist (in those days I smoked imported Pall Mall King Size unfiltered) to buy my fags and noticed a display of really smart cigarette lighters, or briquets as le patron amusingly referred to them.
“Those are agreeable,” I drawled languidly.
“Oui, m’sieur, zay are from ze maison Cartier! Vairy nice, wiz a Lifetime Guarantee.”
“Oh well, they must be worth whatever you’re asking for them then. I’ll have a couple.”
Actually I only bought one. It cost £60, which equates to about £600 today, and very posh it was too.
I used it daily until I gave up smoking in 1986, after which time it languished in a drawer, along wiz its Lifetime Guarantee.
Then a dozen or so years later I went on holiday to Cuba, where smoking is compulsory. Being by now very much poorer I soon realised I couldn’t afford couple of Cohibas a day so gradually I descended to dragging on nasty little cigars, to wit Café Crème Blues.
The other day I was rootling through a drawer when I came upon my old Cartier lighter, still in its original packaging. To my surprise it didn’t light first time. So on May 16th this year I took it back to Cartier in Old Bond Street.
“Certainly sir, that’ll be £25.”
“But … but …” Maybe I’d misread the Lifetime Guarantee. Oh well, plenty of time to argue once they’d fixed it.
They rang the following week. “We have to send your lighter to Switzerland. Will that be all right, sir?” I had no problem with that.
I was walking past Old Bond Street in early July when it occurred to me I hadn’t heard from my friends at Cartier. So I detoured into the shop. The man was most apologetic. “We should have sent you a letter,” he explained, “and as we hadn’t heard from you we were awaiting your instructions. I’m afraid it will be £95.”
Sharp intake of breath from elderly, overweight, impoverished fotoLibrarian. But the comforting thought of the Lifetime Guarantee was still nestling at the back of my mind.
On July 20th I had a letter from Cartier informing me they were waiting for my instructions to commence work on my “timepiece”, and attaching an estimate for £345.00.
My jaw hit the desk. The estimate consisted of:
• Diagnosis
• Disassembly of lighter
• Cleaning of mechanism
• Cleaning the inner and outer body and cap
• Lubricating the sliding elements
• Replacement of the mechanism or gas tank
• Change the flint
• Re-assembly of lighter
• Filling the gas tank
• Function test
Right! Time to hunt down the Lifetime Guarantee, I thought.
And I found it. In French, it reads
Tous les acheteurs du Briquet CARTIER-PARIS bénéficient de la Garantie Illimitée.
and by my schoolboy French that means
All purchasers of the CARTIER-PARIS lighter benefit from the Lifetime Guarantee.
Triumphantly I telephoned Cartier. “Ah, but Sir, in this case the Guarantee does not apply. It only applies to defective elements, not to repairs.”
“But that’s crazy!” I expostulated. “If it says Lifetime Guarantee, and it doesn’t work, you should fix it!”
“Regrettably, Sir, you are now a fat old fool, not the gilded youth what purchased this lighter from us, so we have annulled your guarantee.”
Well they didn’t say this in so many words, but it was very much the interpretation I put on the honeyed syllables dripping through the earpiece.
I tried being reasonable. “Look, could you look into this for me? After all, I bought the thing with a Lifetime Guarantee and I simply assumed that meant what it said.”
They called me back later. “We have checked, Sir, and that is the price. Would you like us to go ahead?”
“Yes, go ahead and send it back to me unrepaired,” I answered glumly. There is no way I could or would ever spend £345 to repair a cigar lighter.
I can’t force them to live up to their guarantee. But I would have thought there was a certain pride in the House of Cartier, and they would honour their written obligations. I should have bought a Zippo.
Perhaps Cartier ought to adapt the slogan used by my friend Michael Cader for his influential publishing newsletter, Publishers’ Lunch: Published Daily. Except When Not.
Cartier’s version need hardly change: Guaranteed For Life. Except When Not.