Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight
  

A Window into the Chareidi World

11 Tishrei 5767 - October 3, 2006 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
NEWS

OPINION
& COMMENT

OBSERVATIONS

HOME
& FAMILY

IN-DEPTH
FEATURES

VAAD HORABBONIM HAOLAMI LEINYONEI GIYUR

TOPICS IN THE NEWS

POPULAR EDITORIALS

HOMEPAGE

 

Produced and housed by
Shema Yisrael Torah Network
Shema Yisrael Torah Network

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Home and Family

Fall Showing
by Raizel Foner

Mrs. Cohen whipped out her checkbook with a flourish. "I can't believe I've been able to find outfits for all three of my girls in one store. This is a first — not having to shlep all over town with fussy teenagers. Tell me, how do you manage to carry such bataamte styles?"

If she only knew . . . I thought back to the beginning of the week in the store . . . .

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. "Sora, you think we have any crackers or cookies squirreled away in the store?" I asked my daughter. Sora went to the front of our clothing store and rummaged around underneath the counter, then shook her head.

Usually I'm already home at this hour, dinner eaten, dishes washed, and just beginning to think about heading off to bed. Before each Yom Tov, however, we get in a huge shipment of the latest styles for that season. I stay hours later to move the clothes from the previous season to the back rack, hang up the new outfits that just arrived (the sooner I remove them from the boxes they're shipped in, the less wrinkles,) and redo the display in the shop window. Two of my daughters came to help; aside from enabling me to finish faster, I appreciate the company.

"Nechama, hang these up in the window, please." The window dressing I save for the end, as it's really not my forte. I just hang up three different samples of the latest style with a background that compliments the colors, and let my daughters add accessories and other props over the next few days.

"Ima, this is so pretty," Nechama breathes. "Can I have one like this for Yom Tov?" Sigh. I had a feeling this would happen.

"We'll see, hon." A drawback (or advantage) of having a clothing store is that the family hopes to get free clothes. A lot depends on how much I'm able to sell early in the season before having to mark things down, cutting my profit margin.

I ran my fingers over a dark green, size medium, set. Classy. This fall season's showing was two-piece sets in choices of dark green, antique gold, or country blue. The material felt warm, but lightweight and comfortable, and — here was a surprise — each set was slightly different from the next. Either the appliques and embroidery differed (oak leaves, acorn, trees shedding their leaves), or the placement of the decorations varied.

That's typical of Juliette, my designer who just happens to be French. She's an artistic spirit, not what she sneeringly calls "a factory worker." Aside from being a little high- strung, Juliette is a pleasure to work with, creative, always on time, and reasonable in her prices.

"Sora, I hope our customers are going to have fun choosing which outfit to buy. What do you think?"

Sora grinned. "Maybe they'll have such a hard time deciding, they'll even buy a few."

"Halevai."

"Remember what she sent before Pesach last year?" Nechama asked. Juliette had sent a collection of solid pastel blouses and skirts which looked like watercolor paintings, no two alike.

"Yeah, those went over really well. Ok, girls, everything's been hung up according to size and color?"

"Yes, Ima. And one of each color in the display window. Is it time to go home?"

I nodded. "Time to go home. Thanks for your help."

"Great. I'm so hungry."

The next morning when I arrived at the store at the usual time, I smiled to see a woman and her daughter already waiting. I flipped on the lights and turned the key in the cash register while they made a beeline for the antique gold, size smalls. Oops — I forgot to put on prices. I clearly wrote out the price for the elegant sets and for the sportier sets on shirt cardboard, and posted it above the racks. Meanwhile, the girl exited the fitting room.

Beautiful outfit! Gorgeous color, flattering cut, flared skirt . . . then the girl twirled around and my mouth dropped open. The seams of the skirt were only sewed half way down. I quickly grabbed another (antique gold, size small) skirt from a hanger, and hurried over to her. "Here, try this one." She shrugged, but disappeared back into the fitting booth. Two minutes later she was back, and with the same problem. Oh no!

With shaking hands, I started going through my stock. Skirt after skirt, same thing. The bell over the door tinkled as two teenagers pushed through. Customers coming in! What have I got to sell??

"I think we'll take this outfit," the mother announced.

"Wait a minute," I quickly mumbled, "I have to call someone." I punched Juliette's number into the phone. "Juliette, hi. What happened with the skirts you sent? They're not finished."

"Why, Madame, what do you mean?"

"The skirt is immodest, it looks tattered . . . "

"Madame," Juliette's voice was frosty but emphatic, "this is The Latest Haute Couture. This is What Is Being Shown This Season."

I attempted to protest. but Juliette cut me off with a torrent of French. I mentioned she was a little high-strung, didn't I? It was way too late to return this shipment and start shopping around for a whole different line; Rosh Hashana was around the corner. I could sew up each of the six seams on each of the dozens of outfits (shudder), but with running the store, running the house, taking care of the family, and cooking for Yom Tov, I DIDN'T HAVE TIME!

Panic! Somehow I got off the phone and went back to the mother who was getting impatient.

"I'm terribly sorry," I began, "but there seems to be a problem with the stock . . . "

"I know. You don't like that the seams don't go all the way down, right?" the mother interrupted, "That's OK; it doesn't bother us."

"I understand," I said firmly, "but if it's not tzanua, we don't sell it."

"So, look, I'll sew it up at home," the mother wheedled. "You have no idea how picky my daughter is about her clothes, how hard it is to finally find something she likes."

This was a hard test. Could I trust the mother? Actually, it would solve all my problems if I could give each customer a small discount on condition that each one finished off her skirt at home. Also, I NEEDED the money.

I closed my eyes for a minute, and had a vision of angels bringing sacks of merits to be used in my favor on the Day of Judgment — but horrors, the robes of the angels had slits! I can't trust the mother; she herself said it doesn't bother her, and who knows if she even owns a sewing machine, or will find the time to fix the skirt. Forget it. This is my responsibility.

I opened my eyes. "I'm sorry. I have to close the store now. I hope to come up with a solution soon."

Disappointed, the daughter went back into the changing room, and the two teenagers drifted out the door. I wrote CLOSED TODAY on a piece of shirt cardboard, taped it on the door, and sat down to think with a piece of paper and pen.

Even if I keep the store closed all day, and spend hours sitting at the sewing machine, I won't be able to finish all these skirts. Not to mention what all those hours of sitting hunched over at the sewing machine would do to my back. Hire seamstresses to do it for me? Forget about making any profit this season, plus they're probably already inundated with Yom Tov alterations for their usual clients.

My head jerked up at the knock at the door. Can't people read that I'm closed? I peered through the glass door. Ah, it's Nechama. I unlocked the door so she could come in.

"Why are you closed, Ima? Here, I brought over the vase from our dining room for the display window. Don't the colors match perfectly?"

I explained to Nechama the problem with the outfits, and she joined me in thought. "Ima, I've got it! Divide up the skirts to sew among the girls in my class and Sora's class! It's easy enough work for them to handle, you can pay them a lot less than a seamstress, or you can give them a credit towards buying an outfit! I bet we can even finish today."

Now, that's an idea. Even if not every girl is able to pitch in, two classes contain a respectable number of girls. Even if they're not able to finish everything in one day, I will have enough outfits to stock the racks without looking skimpy. I certainly don't mind if they get a chance to do their classmate's mother a chessed and learn a lesson in tzniyus in the bargain. "OK, Nechama, let's go for it!"

Nechama and Sora enlisted most of the girls in their classes for sewing duty, giving each girl a pile of skirts in one color (so they wouldn't have to keep changing the thread). To my great surprise, the skirts were finished that day. Over the next few days, the outfits sold so briskly that I had to put aside an outfit for Nechama and Sora before nothing would be left.

*

I smiled back at Mrs. Cohen as I slid her purchases in a bag. "When one tries to do the right thing, Hashem helps. Gut Yom Tov and Kesivah Vachasimah Tovah!"

 

All material on this site is copyrighted and its use is restricted.
Click here for conditions of use.