Eisman-Ludmar: Interview with Made to Measure Magazine

Eiseman-Ludmar is a small New York company that began in 1955, with two brothers-in-law embroidering gold bullion “scrambled eggs” on imported hat findings, then distributing them to re-sellers. Abe Eiseman handled the workings; Joe Ludmar did the sales, eventually buying out Abe.

After the Korean War, Joe sold American Airlines its first civilian, custom-embroidered pilot caps; then, all the airlines’ pilot caps.  Intent that his business have a future, Joe insisted that his son join him.  “I built this business for you,” he told Andy.  But the timing wasn’t right.

 

“I just couldn’t do it,” Andy says, “ and I’ve always felt bad about it…” Andy wanted to be his own person without the shadow of his father; he went into the garment industry—where Joe began--but on his own terms.  With his BA and MA in business, Andy Ludmar learned about selling in the toughest, most competitive segment of the apparel world.

Joe’s company grew until he died in 1977; his wife, Tina, (not a businesswoman) hired a man who managed E-L until she died, in 1983.

1983 also found Andy the unexpected heir to this stagnating family business about which he knew nothing.  In his typically pugnacious way, Andy took the challenge.  “I had no one to teach or educate me—and no one to push me around.  Besides,” he laughs, “you gotta have a job, somewhere!!”

Eiseman-Ludmar has since increased its product line, utilizes offshore and local manufacturing.  The company’s credo is about quality, about doing it better.  With top-of-the-line items and ingenuity in design, what was once wire embroidery for caps has become an international regalia business for military, government, entertainment, and fashion industries—head to toe.  From single orders to thousands at a time--epaulets, insignias, shoulder cords, clothing--this company is an unquestionable success.

Andy reflects, “When you have a business, you need family to run it, or you’re vulnerable.”  He was working; Carol, his wife, had become somewhat isolated as an educator and mother of 4 (now ages 12-26).   Juggling motherhood with occupation, she decided to join Andy and has evolved to full-time vice-president. 

She considers herself the “behind-the-scenes” person who “fills in the gaps.”  In truth, she is a major contributor who, like her husband, is a “Jacqueline” of all trades.  Once the shy wife who demurred to wiser more experienced Andy, she now has her own accounts, flourishing as head designer/buyer for the firm.  “I got into this business for one set of reasons, but stayed for others,” she says.  “I love being able to do a lot of things.  I’m never bored, there’s talking and thinking going on all the time, and it’s all mine!” she laughs, happily.

Carol, 51, recalls her 29½ years of marriage: “This business isn’t about business.  It’s about us.  Some days are better than others; love and respect are the glue that holds us together.”  She muses, “I’m not a planner.  This is where our lives are, and we’ve done well enough to think that it might be good enough for future generations.  I don’t know all the answers,” she smiles.  “I just floor it and pray.”

Their children are her pride.  “Each of them is an independent, functioning person.  If they want to work here, it’s only after they’ve been educated and held jobs on the outside.  They need to learn who they are, what they really want.” 

David, the eldest, has been with E-L for the last 2 years.  “I like to be able to work with a project, taking it where I want it to go,” he emphasizes.  His priorities: Technology of the 21^st century, relationships with customers and vendors.  His efforts have focused/better-organized the company.  “You check your ego at the door in a family business,” he chuckles.

Andy feels strongly about his children, remembering Joe.  “I’m trying to have a good relationship with my son without losing him.  Dad was a great guy, but he was tough.  I believe an individual has to be given a chance—not just be put into a slot.” 

At 53, he sees himself as “average.”  “I’m so average that in the Army, out of 400 men, I was the tallest guy of the short 200…  I work hard.  I have to work harder than most people because I’m not that smart.  And you know what?” he queries.  “Even an average guy can be what he wants, if he takes what he’s got and goes for it.  I work harder, I’m consistent, I don’t get deterred.”

Andy and Carol, like Eiseman-Ludmar, are anything but “average…”

Smith & Warren, Badge Manufacturers: Interview with Made to Measure

In 1925, Mr.’s Smith and Warren founded a police equipment store around the corner from the New York City Police Department.  Mr. Smith later became a Congressman, but Mr. Warren continued with the low-key company until he retired.  Two brothers (unrelated to the original owners) bought the firm in the early ‘sixties, maintaining the site and its principal client (NYPD) with an inventory of police jackets, whistles, cap-straps and what-not, until the brothers, too, were ready to call it a day.

1981 marked the year that Julian Galperin, a successful consulting engineer in the throes of mid-life crisis, decided he wanted to be self-employed—become “master of his own destiny.”  He purchased a nearby Electro-plating company, deciding to apply his knowledge at a practical level.  Simultaneously, new federal constraints on pollution rendered the business of electrically bonding metals with coatings of gold or chrome nearly cost-prohibitive; Julian was left with his factory and his expertise—all he needed was something environmentally clean to make.

 When he discovered that Smith & Warren was for sale, Julian purchased it and combined the 2—Electro-plating/police accessories: His badge business was born.  In a week’s time, the contents of the old building in Manhattan were moved to White Plains.  The factory was kept running as it was gradually converted from “job-shop” plating for outside vendors, to in-house orders for badges, only.  New catalogues were designed, new products were introduced, old items were re-introduced, pricing was re-vamped, marketing began on a national scale.  And Helena joined Julian at the office.

A native of Yonkers, with her own parents in the fabric business, Helena grew up knowing about a family-owned enterprise, working long hard hours, and focusing on customer service.  At Columbia University, while studying for her MA in counseling, she met Julian, also a Master’s candidate but in mechanical engineering.  After their marriage, she went into the business world working with large corporations, computers, human relations—all of which would eventually prove invaluable.

By the time Julian asked her to join him at the plant, Helena had been at home for several years with their 2 children and mountains of volunteer work.  She was ready for a change, and Julian needed someone in the front office he could trust.  The two make a terrifically dynamic team.   “We are always arguing,” Julian laughs.  “Nothing is unilateral.  We are best friends, we discuss everything together all the time.”

Now 49 and general manager, Helena adds, “Julian understands the process of manufacturing.  My focus is customer service.  We don’t get in each other’s way because we do very different things.  Neither of us needs to be in charge, so we’re both in charge.”  Combining Julian’s knowledge of efficiency and technology with Helena’s skills in corporate structure and public relations, Smith & Warren has become a firm where expedience and patience, intensity and flexibility make an inseparable winning team.

Helena developed a point of focus unique to Smith & Warren.  “The badge manufacturers know each other, what each makes.   If we can’t help a customer, we refer to someone who can.  We always try to give our customers more than they ask for,” she emphasizes.  “We sell our products every day by our attitude—our customers are our allies; they sense and respond to our positive feelings about what we do, who we are.  Julian and I don’t think of the bottom line as money; we think in terms of value and quality for our customers.”

Julian reads every programming manual he can find, studies factory production, and systematically employs the most technologically advanced innovations available.  “People say factories are run by robots,” the 57 year old entrepreneur scoffs.  “That’s not true.  Robots are run by people; but people have different tasks/skills/responsibilities, now.  At any one time, we have over 4,000 different orders processing at different stages of completion--all bar coded--with our employees tracking the bar codes.”

“Most people in our business merely sell badges.  We manufacture them.  From start to finish, everything we do is under our control.   It takes others 6-8 weeks to obtain a die, deliver a badge.  We set our goal for 2 weeks.  We have a person whose specific job it is to monitor all orders—by its tenth day in production, if any single order is out of sync, he goes after it.  It isn’t that we work faster; rather, we work at a regular pace, but we hire more people.”  “The answer to our customers is always ‘yes,’” Julian offers with a twinkle of irony.  “The question is simply ‘what’s the problem?’”

Pro-Tuff: Werner Works, Inc. "Professional Gear Made Tuff": Interview with Made To Measure Magazine

In 1976, 35-year-old Ken Werner (1998’s newly elected president of NAUMD) wasn’t sure his health would see him to the next year: He figured he’d better pow-wow with wife, Carolyn, and decide how she and their 3 teen-aged children would survive. In the quiet town of Roseburg, Oregon, this lumber mill employee and restaurant owner’s daughter started a little side business in their garage, making backpacks for the neighborhood kids: “Pack Tracks.”

In a valley nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Rockies, during the blossoming of wandering “flower children” and the re-emergence of outdoor sports, no manufacturing choice could have been wiser.  Carolyn, clearly the matriarch of business and family, recalls Ken bending tubing and cutting goods, with help from sons Kerry and K.C.; she and daughter Kristi designed and sewed the packs.  Popularity grew: The fellows at the mills, then the hippies passing through, wanted them.   Soon, it was craft fairs on Saturday’s. 

After 2 years of moonlighting, 40 year old Carolyn quit her bookkeeping job and went to work full-time making camping gear.  The 2 boys were finishing high school and off to college; only Kristi was at home to help her folks.  In 1978, the Werners rented a small storefront with a single machine in the back room.  First, they sold their backpacks, then bags for camping gear as cross-country skiers found them out.

When the ‘80’s recession took hold and big-box stores began to edge out “mom n’ pop’s,” Ken looked around for ways to increase his line and keep the little business bustling.  The family expanded into saddlebags and raincoats for the nearby farmers, but out of high-grade nylon (Cardura), instead of the heavier, more perishable traditional fabrics. 

 Eventually, they began to work with police and fire departments.  Ken, who Carolyn acknowledges as an absolute genius, had gone to a trade show in Chicago and made the connection between the newer nylons and the older, heavy rubberized coats which these men had been wearing.  Ken affirmed, “You never know when an idea is gonna hit you.  You always have to be lookin’ around.”  He contracted the San Francisco Police Department and they were on their way.  In 1983, moving from one building to another, expanding to 6 machines and then 15, Pro-Tuff was established.

The Werners continued to make and sell their backpack and gear bags lines; they have never been without a storefront to represent their products.  But by 1986, their law enforcement business had grown so tremendously that the camping bags had evolved into Emergency Medical Tech bags, and what was once a retail camping-gear business became a booming corporation in the uniform industry, producing raincoats, 13-pocket utility pants and jumpsuits.

“We didn’t realize how labor-intensive these things were,” reflects Carolyn.  “We just knew it was what our customers needed.  We changed the pocket configuration, and became known as ‘the pocket people.’”

From 1989-1995, Pro-Tuff continued to grow under Ken’s creative insights and Carolyn’s watchful business eye.  Kerri had gone on to engineering; K.C. had moved to Eugene, opened his own advertising business, and was handling the Pro-Tuff account.  At 29, he and wife Beth made the decision to return to Roseburg, devoting themselves solely to the family business.  Ken made it clear that Pro-Tuff was a business in itself.

Kristi, the silent and perhaps most intriguing partner in the Werner family, is a superb designer and craftswoman.  She is also the purchasing agent, manages an excellent OCEA record, is committed to the welfare of her fellow beings.  At 30, she decided making uniform apparel wasn’t enough (in addition to her husband and 3 children) so she initiated the now state-sponsored program “U-Can” where committed town businesses rotate monthly responsibilities of food drives for the disadvantaged.  Proudly, Carolyn notes that philanthropy is no stranger at Werner Works.  “People need to know who we are and who they work for.  We feel it’s important to be friends to the city.  They, in turn, are friends and contribute to our progress and success as a company.”

In the summer of 1995, Ken got a bee in his bonnet.  Roseburg had literally run out of people to employ.  The factory was huge, and in a rural northwest Oregon town (pop.19,000), there weren’t that many folks who had the necessary skills to sew.  He decided he and Carolyn would double their facilities and move the other half to Kentucky where the labor-pool was unlimited.  “You can’t hold back,” Carolyn insists.  “You constantly have to expand.”

K.C., now in charge of the company’s public relations and the one with “a far-out creative mind,” produced a consumer-oriented catalogue, even though the company works through its distributors.  Changing its corporate marketing strategies, Pro-Tuff now goes directly to the end-user, finds out what is needed, then returns the account to the local distributor.  K.C. feels, “By getting consumer input before we make the garment, we can assure 100% satisfaction and usability.”

“Whenever we have a customer who requires a custom fabric, we ask the mills to find it or invent it,” Carolyn interjects.  One such Pro-Tuff fabric is Comfort Twill—Dockers’-feel goods with strength of heavy-duty fibers.

 Ken is no-nonsense and sticks to business, whereas Carolyn is more introspective and reflective.   While he and K.C. tend to focus on the trends and products which the business produces, Carolyn is open about discussing the dynamics and challenges of running a family-owned business.  She is candid about the need for division of responsibilities, how family-owned businesses easily can result in family–destroyed businesses.  “It took a good 10 years to figure out what each of us does.  Now, K.C. and Kristi handle the Roseburg plant while Ken and I travel to Kentucky several times a year.  In addition, Kristi and I are responsible for anything inside the plants; Ken and K.C. are the outside people—they are responsible for everyone and everything on the other side of the front door.  It has to be divided up, or we’d drive each other crazy.”

Nearing 60, Carolyn is content with the process of aging.  Always a workaholic, she intends to continue until her last grandchild is grown.  She dotes on her English country farmhouse, surrounded by gardens and filled with country French antiques.  Her future includes mentoring others in family-owned businesses—guiding, advising, supporting.  “Family will always be more important than business.  If you don’t look after your family, who will?” she smiles.  “But the truth is, you have to work to make sure the family eats!  When the 2 are inter-twined, it takes time and effort to keep them separate.”

K.C. agrees.  “Sometimes, at Thanksgiving, one of the kids will stand up and yell at us to stop talking about business so we can talk about ‘fun stuff.’”

Ken reiterates, “It’s great when the grandkids run into my office and play with the things on my desk, but it’s difficult when the younger folks come up with new ideas which mustn’t be stomped on.”

Now a huge cross-continent concern, Pro-Tuff is a leader in its own area and in the uniform industry.  Its innovations, keenly developed and marketed by Ken and K.C, with scrupulous plant and management implementations from Carolyn and Kristi, allow each member of the family to project Werner Works, Inc.’s growth and continuation for many years to come.

In 1976, 35-year-old Ken Werner (1998’s newly elected president of NAUMD) wasn’t sure his health would see him to the next year: He figured he’d better pow-wow with wife, Carolyn, and decide how she and their 3 teen-aged children would survive.  In the quiet town of Roseburg, Oregon, this lumber mill employee and restaurant owner’s daughter started a little side business in their garage, making backpacks for the neighborhood kids: “Pack Tracks.”

In a valley nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Rockies, during the blossoming of wandering “flower children” and the re-emergence of outdoor sports, no manufacturing choice could have been wiser.  Carolyn, clearly the matriarch of business and family, recalls Ken bending tubing and cutting goods, with help from sons Kerry and K.C.; she and daughter Kristi designed and sewed the packs.  Popularity grew: The fellows at the mills, then the hippies passing through, wanted them.   Soon, it was craft fairs on Saturdays. 

After 2 years of moonlighting, 40 year old Carolyn quit her bookkeeping job and went to work full-time making camping gear.  The 2 boys were finishing high school and off to college; only Kristi was at home to help her folks.  In 1978, the Werners rented a small storefront with a single machine in the back room.  First, they sold their backpacks, then bags for camping gear as cross-country skiers found them out.

When the ‘80’s recession took hold and big-box stores began to edge out “mom n’ pop’s,” Ken looked around for ways to increase his line and keep the little business bustling.  The family expanded into saddlebags and raincoats for the nearby farmers, but out of high-grade nylon (Cardura), instead of the heavier, more perishable traditional fabrics. 

 Eventually, they began to work with police and fire departments.  Ken, who Carolyn acknowledges as an absolute genius, had gone to a trade show in Chicago and made the connection between the newer nylons and the older, heavy rubberized coats which these men had been wearing.  Ken affirmed, “You never know when an idea is gonna hit you.  You always have to be lookin’ around.”  He contracted the San Francisco Police Department and they were on their way.  In 1983, moving from one building to another, expanding to 6 machines and then 15, Pro-Tuff was established.

The Werner’s continued to make and sell their backpack and gear bags lines; they have never been without a storefront to represent their products.  But by 1986, their law enforcement business had grown so tremendously that the camping bags had evolved into Emergency Medical Tech bags, and what was once a retail camping-gear business became a booming corporation in the uniform industry, producing raincoats, 13-pocket utility pants and jumpsuits.

“We didn’t realize how labor-intensive these things were,” reflects Carolyn.  “We just knew it was what our customers needed.  We changed the pocket configuration, and became known as ‘the pocket people.’”

From 1989-1995, Pro-Tuff continued to grow under Ken’s creative insights and Carolyn’s watchful business eye.  Kerri had gone on to engineering; K.C. had moved to Eugene, opened his own advertising business, and was handling the Pro-Tuff account.  At 29, he and wife Beth made the decision to return to Roseburg, devoting themselves solely to the family business.  Ken made it clear that Pro-Tuff was a business in itself.

Kristi, the silent and perhaps most intriguing partner in the Werner family, is a superb designer and craftswoman.  She is also the purchasing agent, manages an excellent OCEA record, is committed to the welfare of her fellow beings.  At 30, she decided making uniform apparel wasn’t enough (in addition to her husband and 3 children) so she initiated the now state-sponsored program “U-Can” where committed town businesses rotate monthly responsibilities of food drives for the disadvantaged.  Proudly, Carolyn notes that philanthropy is no stranger at Werner Works.  “People need to know who we are and who they work for.  We feel it’s important to be friends to the city.  They, in turn, are friends and contribute to our progress and success as a company.”

In the summer of 1995, Ken got a bee in his bonnet.  Roseburg had literally run out of people to employ.  The factory was huge, and in a rural northwest Oregon town (pop.19,000), there weren’t that many folks who had the necessary skills to sew.  He decided he and Carolyn would double their facilities and move the other half to Kentucky where the labor-pool was unlimited.  “You can’t hold back,” Carolyn insists.  “You constantly have to expand.”

K.C., now in charge of the company’s public relations and the one with “a far-out creative mind,” produced a consumer-oriented catalogue, even though the company works through its distributors.  Changing its corporate marketing strategies, Pro-Tuff now goes directly to the end-user, finds out what is needed, then returns the account to the local distributor.  K.C. feels, “By getting consumer input before we make the garment, we can assure 100% satisfaction and usability.”

“Whenever we have a customer who requires a custom fabric, we ask the mills to find it or invent it,” Carolyn interjects.  One such Pro-Tuff fabric is Comfort Twill—Dockers’-feel goods with strength of heavy-duty fibers.

 Ken is no-nonsense and sticks to business, whereas Carolyn is more introspective and reflective.   While he and K.C. tend to focus on the trends and products which the business produces, Carolyn is open about discussing the dynamics and challenges of running a family-owned business.  She is candid about the need for division of responsibilities, how family-owned businesses easily can result in family–destroyed businesses.  “It took a good 10 years to figure out what each of us does.  Now, K.C. and Kristi handle the Roseburg plant while Ken and I travel to Kentucky several times a year.  In addition, Kristi and I are responsible for anything inside the plants; Ken and K.C. are the outside people—they are responsible for everyone and everything on the other side of the front door.  It has to be divided up, or we’d drive each other crazy.”

Nearing 60, Carolyn is content with the process of aging.  Always a workaholic, she intends to continue until her last grandchild is grown.  She dotes on her English country farmhouse, surrounded by gardens and filled with country French antiques.  Her future includes mentoring others in family-owned businesses—guiding, advising, supporting.  “Family will always be more important than business.  If you don’t look after your family, who will?” she smiles.  “But the truth is, you have to work to make sure the family eats!  When the 2 are inter-twined, it takes time and effort to keep them separate.”

K.C. agrees.  “Sometimes, at Thanksgiving, one of the kids will stand up and yell at us to stop talking about business so we can talk about ‘fun stuff.’”

Ken reiterates, “It’s great when the grandkids run into my office and play with the things on my desk, but it’s difficult when the younger folks come up with new ideas which mustn’t be stomped on.”

Now a huge cross-continent concern, Pro-Tuff is a leader in its own area and in the uniform industry.  Its innovations, keenly developed and marketed by Ken and K.C, with scrupulous plant and management implementations from Carolyn and Kristi, allow each member of the family to project Werner Works, Inc.’s growth and continuation for many years to come.

Executive Apparel: Interview with Made to Measure Magazine

The Singer family has been in the clothing business for generations.    When Grandfather Singer and his 3 sons emigrated to Philadelphia in the ‘30’s, he began in the leather coat business which provided for the Philadelphia Police Department.  Two of his sons went their ways for other garment manufacturers, but Richard Singer continued with Grandfather’s Singer Mfg. Co., becoming a contractor for outerwear and adding a line of boys’ suits.  Rick Singer loved his work and loved his job.  He exuded an excitement and commitment which his 2 older boys, Rob and Don, inherited, and they eventually joined him for a successful run in the retail apparel business.  Rob and Don added men’s wear to their lines, and in the early ‘80’s were also manufacturing for women who had rejoined the job market. 

By 1985, their dad had taught the 2 brothers all he could and retired; imported retail clothing was becoming a huge market, putting a tight squeeze on American retail contractors—Philadelphia’s garment district had shrunk to less than half its original size.  Rob and Don knew they had choices to make.  Firm believers in science fiction, they conceptualized clothing for the future.  It came to them that most galactics wore uniforms on their starships.  So they decided to enter the uniform business.  Because of their backgrounds in men’s and women’s suiting, the switch to corporate uniform apparel was only logical.  And futuristic…

Don had a degree in finance and Rob had graduated from the Philadelphia College of Textiles.  The family had always been in the contracting business, manufacturing for others.  With a lot of guts and a lot to learn about inventory, business management, purchasing of raw goods, acquiring of distributors, and advertising, they began Executive Apparel in 1986.  “We made up our minds, walked before we ran, and decided we would commit to this business for the long run. We wouldn’t have 1 foot in the door and 1 foot out the door, “ stated Rob.

They kept the contracting end of the business while they began a stock program for uniform apparel.  They learned from their competition regarding colors and styles, but they made their own way, carving their unique niche.  One of their strengths is special sizing, in addition to standard stock sizing.  “One of the hardest things about this business is getting everything to be sized correctly,” recalls Rob.  “It wasn’t easy in the beginning and we made mistakes.  But we did whatever it took and we got it right.  Fashion is now a major part of our company.  In fact customized garments for our clients is 25% of our current business.”

When Singer was in business, the building was in a loft.  Now, using approximately the same square footage, Executive has moved to a ground-floor building where the goods comes in at one end, and goes out a finished product at the other.  Probably the single most determining factor in the success of Executive Apparel is the tight and well-thought-out organization.  As Rob discusses his thoughts and projections about the corporation, nothing is left to chance or “maybe’s.”  If an item or a philosophy doesn’t work, it’s changed so that it will.  “Don is very cautious,” he volunteers.  “I’m a little less cautious.  I’m the more flexible one.”

Originally, Don and Rob had divided their responsibilities by what they knew—Rob oversaw manufacturing; Don took care of finances and business management.  What they found is that they both had strengths in several areas, but their outlooks were so diverse that they needed to take on their roles not by job description but by focus.  Don now handles the repetitive, which demands consistency and stability—doing things dependably the same way every day.  He makes sure the operation runs smoothly at every level.  Rob, on the other hand, is the “visionary,” the creator with the new ideas.  If Rob comes up with a new product, new equipment, a new management concept, it’s Don’s responsibility and challenge to implement it.  The 2 complement each other.

Both men are married, live within 5 minutes of each other, and close to their other family members.  Rob and Wendy have grown twin boys and a daughter; Don and Arlene have 2 daughters.  Even though Philadelphia is a large city, there is a small-town family dedication to one another, which is very special and very close.

They are exceedingly bright.  Rob at age 50 is already planning for the day when he will retire, and has become a professional photographer on the side.  His works of children, and still life for artisans’ portfolios have acquired recognition.  Don, 47, is a professional musician and has his own band.  During the ‘60’ & ‘70’s, he had a rock group—he still plays a lot of the same music; the guys just dress a little differently—instead of headbands and jeans, they wear button-down collars and ties. 

Rob, the spokesman for the 2, reflects how he and Don have changed.  “We’ve always been self-employed, and we’ve never known what it’s like to work for others.  Initially, we were very controlling.  Now, we realize the importance of working together as a team—not only the 2 of us, but with our supervisors, as well.  Thursday morning team meetings have given us insight and respect for what it’s like to be an employee.  One thing I’ve learned is that money isn’t what creates a satisfied, productive employee.  Sure, profit sharing is important; it’s important to educate our employees all the way down the line--the process of how a dollar is earned; but the real selling point for employee loyalty is the team.  It’s a feeling of being a part of, instead of apart from.” 

Rob reflects on one of the most concerning issues for himself and for the business: “We feel it’s very important to maintain a manufacturer-distributor relationship.  When we were contractors, we saw that process break down.  Manufacturers began going directly to the end-user, and it undermined business loyalties.  There has to be loyalty in business, in life.  Loyalty is the key factor to success, whether in marriage and families, or in business relationships.  Often, it’s only ‘me, me, me.’” As he has gotten older, he admits that he and Don have grown more dependent on others for input.

Punctuating his more thoughtful comments with energetic ideas, he remarks about efficiency.  “We try to ship an order within an hour after placement,” he exudes.  “We keep our backorders to a 2 week maximum; we have a 94-96% satisfaction rate; we continually try to get better and faster.”  He refers to Executive as a “sleeping tiger.”  “We have a superior management group,” Rob enforces.  “There’s a tremendous infra-structure, we do a lot of things right, have a good strong sales force.  The more things come together, the stronger we get.”

Robert and Donald Singer, following their dad’s tradition, exude the same love and excitement for their business.  Executive Apparel is growing and changing while maintaining a steady spot in the uniform marketplace.  The eclectic pragmatism, which is based on sound technical knowledge and background, is leading these 2 entrepreneurs to the forefront of the uniform apparel trade.

I Spiewak & Sons, Inc.: Jackets and Fine Fashion--Made to Measure Magazine

Michael Spiewak, 46, is C.E.O. for one of the world’s largest manufacturers of uniform and fashion outerwear.   In a huge global market, Spiewak manufactures over 50% of the domestic & international jacket trade.  From offices in downtown Manhattan, Michael assures the future of the family-owned corporation as he concentrates on multiple marketing strategies.   “The product isn’t it,” he emphasizes.  “There has to be more.  There is a perception in the marketplace of who we are.  Our brand name is our equity.  People don’t respond to manufacturing; they respond to things they remember—the people and the service.  Everything else is secondary.”

Michael is the second son of second sons--generations going back to Eastern Europe and Isaac Spiewak, who came to this country to find a better life.  Intelligent, responsible, enterprising, physically massive and strong, Spiewak began the same way as so many others.  He learned leather cutting from a cousin, then set out on his own. 1904--a single room in Brooklyn, pushcarts, making and selling an item which ordinary working people desperately needed.  Young Spiewak had 1 goal: to provide for his family.

Because of his size and strength, Isaac Spiewak was able to bale heavy sheepskins, the material used for winter warmth in those years.    He made vests, then coats.  He went from direct selling on the streets, to jobbers--wholesalers who represented him in retail trade.  In 1919, the trade name “Golden Fleece” was born.   Spiewak moved to 14th St.  No longer a peddler, he had become a businessman.

Isaac determined his family of 8 children would thrive.  However, each argued for control as he became a partner in the young business.  It was disaster.  The patriarch figured a way to keep his promise to his family, ease tensions, increase his own productivity: He established several outerwear corporations, sending various children to manage each.  Rubin & Sons, Bronco, Ram Mfg., Robert Louis Sportswear, United Sheepwear, are all offspring of Isaac Spiewak.

Transition through the generations has been possible because each successive owner has had a unique perspective of technology and the marketplace.  None of them has forgotten Isaac’s commitment to family and business ethics—“We work to live; we do not live to work,” said second generation Philip Spiewak.

“Quality of life has always mattered, whether it be a family member’s satisfaction with job fulfillment, or an employee’s civil rights issue,” reiterates Gerald, current Chairman of the Board and third generation.  The story of Spiewak is not so much about warm, protective jackets as it is about genuine, caring people.

World War I came, bringing wool in addition to leather, and contracts from the military.  In the early ‘20’s, the company moved to Haverstraw, NY; son Philip was involved by this time.  With a degree in architecture and a keen business sense, he understood garment construction and plant expansion.  Technology advanced, styles changed, World War II exploded.  Larger still, the factory had moved to New Jersey.  Cotton had been introduced to flight jackets, along with leather “bombers,” 32 oz. wool pea coats, and sheepskin flight suits.  As many as 300 garments a day went out of a single plant, different buildings producing varying styles & fabrics.

Philip became head of Spiewak in 1948, bringing his 3 sons with him: Bob had a degree in journalism, understanding finance and administration; Jerry graduated from the Wharton School of Business, focusing on sales and industrial management; Marty studied at the Fashion Institute @ NYU, knowing design, pattern-making, quality control.  

After the War, nylon was introduced along with other synthetics: “It used to take 35 pounds to provide warmth for a street cop on horseback; with synthetics, it took 3,” Jerry proudly reminisces.  Jerry, the “outside man,” became president.  Communications, transportation had improved; jobbers and wholesalers were no longer needed; Spiewak went directly to retailers.  In the 50’s, the firm outfitted American Airlines, and now handles most of the world’s airline trade.  Spiewak learned to adapt to its clients’ needs—the job, the climate, the look--from Greenland to the equator, the corporate world to television & cinema.

Growth spawned factories in Mississippi and overseas.  Always ahead of its time, Spiewak created Titan Cloth, which Jerry invented by adapting automobile seat-coverings for wearability.

One of the primary reasons for the company’s huge success was Jerry’s wife, Shirley (deceased in August).   Her social skills and business acumen won hearts and cemented corporate relationships.  With her support, Jerry was strengthened in his presidencies: The National Outerwear & Sportswear Association, N.A.M.U.D., the Uniform Association; and as Board member of the American Manufacturers of Apparel Association.  He also created a tradeshow company for surplus and outerwear businesses.  “Without Shirley, most of what we did would have been impossible,” Jerry recalls sadly.  “Mom knew and loved everyone,” added Michael.  But, when asked about retiring, Jerry is adamant.  “Dad (Philip) retired at 72, quit working at 93.  I intend to do the same.”

Jerry’s leadership brought 2 enormous changes: Export-import; and the idea of producing a fashion item as a separate entity from uniform wear.  “My father stepped back about 30 years ago.  I stepped back about 10 years ago for Michael and Roy—if you want continuity, you have to do that.  They’ve been terrific about developing in these directions.”

Michael (son of Jerry) graduated Syracuse with degrees in philosophy and English.  At first a guitar player with a rock band, Michael was influenced to join Spiewak by Jerry’s “Try it, you’ll like it” philosophy.  He found his niche by changing the focus of the company from factory production to sales & marketing.  “People don’t care about how it’s made,” he tells.  “They care about how they look, how they feel.”

Michael has taken Spiewak into the marketplace.  “At any time, you can find us under our own label, and under private label, sometimes with as many as 5 different names in the same store.”  Bloomingdale’s & Saks now sell Spiewak fashion lines as confidently as policemen & security guards wear Spiewak uniforms.  “’Synergy’ is the best word to describe how we blend product, people, and jobs,” Michael says.  He handles sales, pricing & costing, product development.   “What makes us special is that we can design a different look for every area.  We have locations all over the world--Scandinavia, Montreal, Japan, South America…”

Michael is definite about loving work, being very fond of his colleagues.  “I especially love working with my dad.”  “Work?   I’d better love it, because it’s how I spend most of my day.  If I don’t enjoy it, I’m missing out on a whole part of my life.”

41 year-old Roy Spiewak (Marty’s son) is current president.  A graduate in economics from Cornell, he also has a Master’s degree in social work (focusing on policy development), and an MBA in finance & accounting--both from the University of Chicago.  Brilliant and diverse, thoughtful and unassuming, he considers himself “…not particularly creative, but a good communicator; I’m analytical when it comes to detecting and solving problems.”

Consulting work with accounting magnate Coopers & Lybrand; 10 years as a controller (first for an Israeli optical company, then an Israeli software manufacturer): Roy was adamant about making his own way before coming into the family business.  “I needed to know my own worth,” he recalls.  “Since I’ve come, the business has become more diversified.  We have agents all over the world who speak different languages, understand different cultures, but who represent our terms and philosophy.”

Roy travels to the Far East, supervises the Mississippi plant.  He is responsible for the financial and manufacturing ends of Spiewak, and concentrates on overall organization and modernization.  “Managing a business is about doing so many things yourself.  It’s more important to have consistency and stability rather than runaway growth.  The important thing is not to become a household name, but to survive and maintain our integrity.“  He volunteers, “I think what I like best is knowing I’m a link in a chain—my great-grandfather, my grandfather, my dad, me, and maybe my own children one day.”