Mallery Furs

I left my vintage, inherited chinchilla stole and my now-​endangered and sooo-​not-​PC ocelot cape with Mr. Mallery. Both needed repairs. I was referred to Mallery Furs by a native Atlantan and since I was new to town, really had no idea where to go since the larger stores no longer did repairs.
After I finally found the place and stopped chuckling at the extreme security, I found Mr. Mallery to be a very pleasant person. Previous reviews are correct; the place is an absolute nightmare of unorganized wall-​to-​wall furs. I must admit, I was suspect of how he runs his business but since I was a recent transplant and he WAS referred, I said nothing… and left my two pieces with him for the minor repairs.

With instructions to call a week later for his estimate, I did just that and got no answer … several times.
And then it just fell off my radar. I finally got ahold of Mr. Mallery a year later and asked him about the repairs. He knew nothing about the repairs and said I owed him for storage. I think the bill was well over $ 200. I shrieked.

That was almost 10 years ago. I gave my furs up for dead. I figured Mr. Mallery was, too and there was no chance of reclaiming my pieces. Even if he is alive, my claim ticket was in my stolen handbag and I have no proof of ownership. I certainly can’t count on Mr. Mallery’s memory or his successors to take my word for it.
My guess is Mr. Mallery’s memory is not what it used to be. (and I’m being nice) Take that, coupled with his apathy and well, let’s just call it «unethical business practices,» my furs are probably still there. However, this gal calls this experience an exercise in maintaining good mental health, albeit an unfortunate education.

If it were possible to give 0 stars, I would. I have literally never had a worse fur experience. I took a vintage silver fox coat to Mr. Mallery to have cleaned and repaired. I explained that the interior needed to be cleaned, and there were two holes that needed repairing. I dropped by, literally on the way to the airport to pick up the coat. It looked like it had not been cleaned at all, one hole was not fixed, and the other looked like it had been sewn up by, well… me. It looked horrible.
Nevertheless, I was in a huge rush and tried to pay with a credit card. Crazily enough, they only take cash and checks. When people are paying either hundreds or thousands of dollars, WHY wouldn’t they accept plastic??? I was desperate, and offered to leave my light, but expensive coat as collateral. I explained that I was leaving on a ski trip, but would be back in a couple of weeks to pay him in cash. Someone called me from Mallery’s shop three days later to tell me they had my coat. Well… obviously. I just left it.
This is where it starts to get really crazy. Upon my return, I started to call Mallery Furs. No one answered, and their machine (no, not voicemail, but MACHINE) was full. After a couple of days of this, I was worried. After a week, I was VERY worried. Mr. Mallery must be in his 90s… what if he died? What happened to my coat? I finally went to his building, and the concierge said he hadn’t seen anyone for a couple of weeks. What??! His company is behind two security doors and has no windows. I went by again a few days later and begged the concierge to bang on the door, to no avail.
I decided to let it be. Someone had to come back, eventually. Last week I called and (miracle!) Mr Mallery answered. I told him I would be by this week to pick up my coat and pay him. Today I dropped in to pick up my coat. He looked surprised to see me. He told me he had taken the CHINCHILLA off of my CASHMERE coat and put it on another coat. WTF?!! I literally thought he was kidding. «We tried to call you,» he said. «You called me three days after I left on a ski vacation!» I practically shrieked. «Well, I thought you weren’t coming back. You left the coat here six months ago,» he replied. Six months ago there wasn’t snow on the ground! I tried to explain that I left the coat there TWO months ago, he disappeared without a way to contact him, and it is MY coat. He shrugged and showed me the fur to which he had affixed my cuffs. He wasn’t kidding.
I almost lost it. I seriously must have looked like Roger Rabbit with my eyes bulging out of my head. «My sister said you had this planned and were trying to pull one over on me and never planned to pay,» Mr. Mallery explained. O… m…g. «You think I was trying to get out of paying you $ 200 by leaving you my $ 4,000 coat from Neiman Marcus?! Are you crazy?!» I demanded that he remove the cuffs immediately, which he offered to reattach if I came back to pick up my coat. Absolutely not! Just give me my coat! I took my coat, in pieces, and ran as fast as I could to Helen Frushtick for damage control.
I would never, ever, leave anything you care about with this company.