Smartypants perfect fit for parents

By IRENE CHAPPLE

Julie Crean greets me with the joy reserved for someone who's managed a difficult obstacle course. Which I have, of sorts.

They are tricky, these child-proof gates. Those of us without children eye them with some trepidation before lifting where it says lift and pushing cautiously. Ah! Entry!

This is all part of the Smartypants brand, planned by the 33-year-old over two years, scribbled in an 18-page business plan in meticulous detail.

Inside the orange and purple themed Ponsonby store, there are play areas for children, mushroom seats moulded to minimise the risk of falling off and wide aisles to enable easy access for double buggies.

This store is for the family, designed to take care of children while their parents browse.

Here, parents find second-hand clothing and children's goods at about 50 per cent less than their original retail price.

On Crean's business card, she calls the store one for "nearly new" goods. She prefers that term because it dismisses notions the goods will be worn or tired.

Crean only accepts goods that are in top condition, and says Smartypants' aim is to provide quality used goods.

There are no stains or mothball smells here, Crean says, and top labels - OshKosh, Gap, Next - are prominent.

Smartypants was conceived while Crean was in London, marketing for the Body Shop.

She had one child then, Harry, and a husband, Andrew, whom she had met in Wellington when working in film production.

The couple left for some London experience and it was there Crean found herself frustrated with the expense of children's clothes.

"It was nothing," she says, "to spend $90 on a pair of overalls for kids ... they were an absolute fortune.

"If you've one child you have immaculate items barely worn, and if you are lucky you get 50c for it at a garage sale."

Crean also found herself bothered by the lack of professionalism in the second-hand kids' goods market and resolved to do better.

Crean was able to set up Smartypants, just over two years ago, without resorting to debt.

She and Andrew had bought, revamped and sold a London terrace house during the peak of the property boom there. The profit made Smartypants decidedly do-able.

"We did have some luck," says Crean. "But we have also worked extremely hard."

By the time she'd opened the first Smartypants store in Mt Eden, Crean had had another child, Jacob, born in Portugal as the couple travelled back to New Zealand.

Two children and a new shop in Mt Eden was slightly tricky.

Crean juggled it thus: working six days a week for the first 18 months on the shop floor, Jacob playing at her feet and Harry, before he started school, in daycare.

Then Crean fell pregnant again. Another boy, Max, and the juggling became trickier.

Crean employed one person and stepped back from the retail floor.

Meanwhile, Smartypants was becoming increasingly popular, a subject of conversation among the mothers of greater Auckland impressed with its mix of value and quality. First year sales hit $150,000.

"We started off selling for a handful of suppliers," says Crean. "And now we have over 1300. We've converted a lot of families, and gained their trust."

Smartypants does not own the stock, but sells on behalf. So, if stock doesn't sell, Crean can return it and keep the store's product fresh.

She also does regular charity runs, taking unsold stock and, with the blessing of the owner, giving it to causes such as Victim Support or Women's Refuge.

This year Smartypants moved to larger premises in Ponsonby, which boasts wooden floors, two levels and carparking. Crean has employed another staff member, her brother Simon Henley.

He is taking time out from an exhausting master's degree in psychotherapy.

Henley loves the work and gets a kick out of the happiness of the customers, often expectant mothers.

He is unsure whether he will continue his degree, and is considering staying with Smartypants to help roll out its next stage.

Crean has big plans. She is going to franchise Smartypants and, when asked how many stores she wants to see throughout New Zealand, throws back her head and laughs: "How many towns are there?"