Dressed To The Nines: UniformMarketNews.Com

Do you ever wonder what certain phrases mean?  Do you ever use certain words or terms without having a clue regarding origin or meaning?  Here’s one for you: “Dressed to the nines.”  We use it more with the upper crust than the lower, and maybe more with women than men.  But the term itself has been around for a few hundred years; perhaps longer than that.  It’s been used with the height of couture fashion covering designs for daytime and evening wear; it’s been used to describe the average Joe who is one step above; and it’s been used with top-notch uniforms.

“Dressed to the nines” simply means that one’s fashion statement is tip-top.  For the uniform industry, we are talking about an identity that puts our best feet forward, that advertises us as par excellence, that outwardly displays the kinds of qualities that we apply to our companies inwardly, with our entire collective focus as a team.  

In truth, no one knows where “dressed to the nines” comes from, but there are numerous possible origins:  Some say that it refers to the “whole nine yards,” which at one time was the amount of fabric used to make up a suit for an elegant gentleman or, imagine a single elegant shirt!  (Figure narrow, 36” wide goods, or even the most foppish 18^th century dandy would drown in ruffles and lace at this quantity). 

Some say it has to do with the nine muses from Greek mythology and the arts—the best that aesthetics has to offer in every genre: Some say it refers to the nine worthies, who are outstanding heroes from both literature and history—King Arthur, David, Joshua, and the like. 

Being dressed to the nines is born out by women who attended the opera, paying $9.00 for a splendid box seat, and who used to wear long white gloves with finger openings at the wrist, closed with nine pearl buttons.

In baseball, where the team is comprised of nine players, there is a ritual in putting together a uniform so that not only is the particular outfit of special quality and design with shoes, sox, knickers, shirt, and cap, but also that the entire team of nine wears the ensemble, together—all at one time, as in dressed to the nine players.

There is 18^th century poetry from Scotland, with Robert Byrnes waxing over nature as being painted beautifully to the nines.  There is the possibility of the medieval phrase, “dressed to thine eyne,” referring to one’s eyes being the loveliest ever—with the words gradually evolving to “the nines.”   In 18^th century England, poet William Hamilton refers to the nines—how they contented him.  In 14^th century France, John de Mandeville journaled that war without peace would always be to the ninth degree if his king were not to reform.

Military uniforms abound with the nine button design: Civil War uniforms, European uniforms, military school uniforms, were all made with a nine button closure, and many still are.   The Duke of Edinburgh’s 99^th Regiment of Foot during the 19^th century refers to the British army—legendary for its elegance and precision.  The whole concept of the uniform speaks to dedication and discipline, exemplary senses of order and honor of the highest rank, and yes, smart looking fashion.  This particular reference comes the closest in time frame to when the actual phrase “dressed to the nines” came into vogue. 

The number nine can be used in any number of important references, whether with regard to garment manufacturing, or design.  Often, it’s nine stitches per inch that makes a good seam—decorative or plain.   

When we talk about being dressed to the nines, we are truly vaulting an individual into the top drawer of impeccable presentation.   There is none better.  No matter what one’s reference, or choice of focus, the outfit that ranks as nine is the best.  Many companies have even named themselves “House of Nine,” or “Dressed to the Nines.”

For the uniform industry, this adage connotes the finest look that any group can have.  Whether it is corporate or casual, formal or industrial, or costume, the best is the nines.  One of the most easy and winning ways to achieve the “nines look” is to accessorize.   Think tie, think scarf, think vest or cummerbund. Think braid, think customized shoulder straps, interesting buttons, or contrasting sleeve application.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a busboy or a housekeeping uniform; it isn’t always about a power suit in poly wool.  It’s not only about customer satisfaction; it’s about the inner sense of pride that is radiated by an employee who wears the garment, too.  If the employee feels attractive and proud of his appearance, imagine how others will view him, and how he projects delight when he’s on the job.

When different publications award a company for its uniforms, it’s about being “dressed to the nines.”  When companies show off their personnel, when we want to identify with a particular group, when various industries use a particular garment that catches on in the private sector, that’s dressing to the nines. More than any other group, it’s fair to say that the U.S. Navy has had the most admired and sought after uniforms: Not only have they been impeccable on their seamen and officers, but as a fashion statement for the private sector as well—who hasn’t owned a midi blouse, a stunning navy double breasted blazer with brass buttons, or a pea coat at one time or another?

The next time you put an outfit together, remember that form (style, color, design, fabric) is as important as function.  It’s absolutely necessary to be practical, but one’s on-the-job attractiveness matters, too.  Suddenly, it isn’t solely about work but rather, it’s about a pleasurable experience, as well.  If you see a group whose garments blend with its surroundings, whose theme matches the focus of the workplace, and yet whose appearance is one step above, you know that this is what’s called being “dressed to the nines.”  Whether in public or in private, it’s difficult to imagine that any individual would want to look any other way. 

Button, Button, Who's Got The Button?: UniformMarketNews.Com

In the late 19^th century, a fellow from Vienna, Austria—John Frederick Boepple—who was as bright, inventive, and dedicated as they come, came to the United States in search of what was known as “fresh water pearls.”  Because of European tariffs and difficulties overseas, his craft of making buttons out of multiple materials, such as horn, wood, lead, and “salt water pearls” had become an outrageous expense, and he was looking for a material less expensive.  He found an abundance of it along the Mississippi River, in Muscatine, Iowa; what was to become the button capital of the world.

Boepple, who was really the founder of the button industry, is well documented in books, articles, and even museums; his is indeed a remarkable story.  But also from Vienna, arrived around the same time, came another young and hardworking man in the button business—John Weber.  Weber, too, arrived in Muscatine, and it is more than likely—although the two men went their separate ways—that they knew one another. 

This is about John Weber, his family, “fresh water pearls” that are also known as clams, and the manufacture of buttons.  There was an enormous abundance of clams along the river—literally mountains of shells—and that part of gathering raw materials for the buttons was called “clamming.”  Fresh water clams or “pearls” were 1/100^th the cost of European salt water clams; hence, a fortune was to be made in the American button industry as a result. While many other firms came and went, Weber & Sons Button Company, Inc. not only still exists, but is one of the original manufacturers of buttons in this country. 

John Weber and his wife had 9 children, enough to run an entire factory at that time.  What began as a two-story 20,000 square feet building erected in 1860, grew and grew, and is now 45,000 square feet spanning two separate dwellings with 25 employees, many of whom remain family.  Muscatine is a blue-collar factory town, population 34,000, polka-dotted with churches, shopping centers, and monuments to a simpler way of life.  “It’s two degrees of separation,” says Lynne Weber, fourth generation office manager.  “If you don’t know someone, the person sitting next to you does.”  There are still multiple factories in existence, and they are operating despite the recession.  Farm country surrounds the area, but Muscatine, itself, is pure industry: Yes, in complete compliance with the Environmental Protection Agency.

Boepple was an old-world craftsman who could never adapt to modern industrialization, and it ultimately proved to be his downfall.  He always insisted on making buttons one at a time with a foot-pedal lathe.  Weber, on the other hand, had different ideas and went to automation as quickly as he could.  His firm was well underway when he died in 1934, and his son, Edward W. Weber took over.  The younger Weber, with brothers who were superb machinists much like their uncles, was in charge of the company until 1963, when he died at the age of 57. 

Edward W.’s contribution as a second generation owner was to introduce synthetics to the button industry.  From clams that ultimately became too expensive to manufacture, he went into newly developed acrylics and, with his sons and brothers, adapted the original clam shell machinery to appropriately fit the new material.  What didn’t adapt or couldn’t be made by Barry Manufacturing that created their original machines, they invented and built, themselves.  Remarkably, in one form or another, the original pearl machinery lasted until 1985, with one of them currently residing in the Smithsonian Institution. 

The only problem was that early acrylic buttons melted with heat.  If they survived the finishing process, they then melted when a homemaker ironed a garment.  Yet another source had to be found, which was up to third generation Edward Walter Weber to find.   

At 74, it is he (otherwise known as “Ed” or “Buster”) who is currently in charge of Weber, and it is he who transitioned from acrylic buttons to polyester plastic, which is what is used today.  Originally, the polyester pigment had a lead base.  By the 1980’s, however, lead was outlawed, and the trick became how to make a button without lead.  “I can remember him bringing home buttons and putting them on a cookie sheet to bake them, or he would iron them to try them out.  They smelled awful!” says daughter, Lynne.

There are two basic ways to make buttons, but Weber primarily uses one over the other due to too great a volume and too little for employees to do on the one, vs. constant production at a slower but steadier pace on the other.   There are also two ways to dye a button, with one being through and through (colorfast), while the other is topical, in which case the color can fade onto lighter shades of fabrics.  Interestingly, volume in part determines which way a customer has to go in the dyeing process, because colorfastness demands a minimum of 260 gross or 37,440 buttons.

Weber sells a great many buttons, and has huge diversity.  It used to make its own metal buttons by using the plastic base and then electro-plating the outsides.  Now, these buttons are outsourced, as well as those with rhinestones, cloth, and other combinations; in-house manufacturing itself is limited to the plastic material.

Lynne and her sister, Susan, will eventually take the helm, although Lynne insists that Buster is simply not retiring—Ever.  Having worked his way up from the bottom, Buster has the entire business and all of its processes in his head.  Even as Lynne was being interviewed, not a question went by without the echo of an answer from Buster in the background.

To make buttons, it takes about two weeks from the time an order is placed until the buttons come off a conveyor belt from inspection, and are placed into boxes.  The buttons are made from a paste that is dyed to a specific color, a thick Karo Syrup-like goo or pigment, and plastic, all mixed in a 25 pound bucket.  This is then poured into an open-ended sideways rolling solid drum that is much like a hamster wheel. The drum is spun centrifugally and the material inside is heated, hardened, then peeled off, put on a belt where it is cut into blanks, and dropped in hot water to solidify further.  The pattern and holes follow, plus three days of tumbling with 3/8” tiny wooden cubes to polish the material if a shiny finish is desired.  Inspection follows on the conveyor belt, and it’s done.  Presto!  Hundreds of buttons.

“Weber is strictly wholesale.  We don’t even have a website,” emphasizes Lynne.  Do they have actual button cards and pictures of their buttons?  Yes.  For 105 years Weber & Sons has been a company deeply committed to customer satisfaction.  It has no plans to change that arrangement.

           

More Can Be Better: UniformMarketNews.Com

I have been struggling for some months with baggy triceps, a ballooning bosom, burgeoning waistline, bulbous buttocks, and blossoming thighs.  What to do, what to do…  At last, I have unwillingly joined the millions in our society who classify themselves as “plus.”  It’s a whole new world: A kind of confirming nod we give to one another in passing that not unlike pregnancy or having grey hair, reveals a secret society. We’re all part of a certain bunch:  Big beautiful women…   Yes, men, too (although it doesn’t seem to phase them as much, if at all).

Anyone who is in the custom uniform business, tailoring, or alterations, is used to the steady trickle of folks who require a special fit—not infrequently because of oversize.  Once in a while, my father would jokingly say that he would need to get a pattern from Omar the Tentmaker. 

Lately, however, it’s been one plus size after another, and sometimes entire orders.  Recently, a group of Midwesterners ordered 60 polo shirts—half 2XL and half 4XL—all with 8” added to the length to cover the fronts and rears of strong, hearty farmhands who wear size 58 pants.

Men are weighing in like cattle, and the women are right there with them.   This spring, alone, we had two different orders for military and fire personnel, where the gals had 67” waists.  Waists!  Imagine the chests and the seats… 

We had a call for a size 72 coat from a Shriner.  Another gent requested that we come to his house to measure and fit some jumpsuits, because he couldn’t squeeze his way out the door to come to us.  There’s a cavalry order going out where the average frock coat for the battalion is a 48Long. 

I’m not trying to make fun or ridicule.  Rather, I’m pointing out where a significant portion of our population’s sizing is headed.  Just as so many of our manufacturers for ready-to-wear have, of late, instituted petites and very small sizes to suit a particular frame, they’ve also gone to bigger and bigger sizing in order to accommodate both men and women in the workplace. 

Look at Edwards: It has two different fits of slacks for women.  It overhauled styling, and broadened its patterns.  There was a reason for it, in addition to staying current with the times.  A woman’s size is for a different figure than a misses—it’s rounder and fuller in all the important spots.  As baby boomers expand into midlife and younger women reap the rewards of the voluminous junk food culture, who wants to deal with the reality that she’s grown two sizes larger? 

Edwards has also re-sized its blazers.  It used to be that as the sizes grew, a pattern design that was lean to begin with, just got wider and longer all around like a set of nested boxes.  Now redesigned and re-proportioned, the larger sizes fit as well as the smaller.  Bravo!  In tandem, its blouses are mushrooming to sizes 28 and 30, and yes, made with Spandex in the fabrics for just a bit of easy stretch.  Sweaters for men and women are going up and up and up to a 5XL.

The sizes are getting larger for in-stock items, everywhere.  Red Kap carries up to a size 68 in a man’s jean.  Think about it.  While size 54 is standard bill o’fare for most pant styles, the larger sizes are available. Shirts go all the way to a 6XL with available lengths in extra plus 4,” 6” or 8” for oversize and non-stock.   For a guy to wear a shirt with a plus 8” tail is either to say he’s very very big, or it’s almost like putting him into a dress—the shirt is that long at 40.”

Dickies, Carhardt, Cabella—wow!  They’re out to capture the retail trade in uniform design, and make no bones about carrying the larger sizes.  One can find their brands with many uniform retailers, as well as in catalogues and online—they sell direct to the consumer as well as wholesale.    

Big Top Tees has been around for 20 years.  Who would’ve thought this little company that custom-manufactures knit garments for big and tall would last?  The truth is, business—and sizing—are booming.  Because oversize is all Big Top makes, it can manufacture for fewer dollars what bigger companies have to charge significantly more for—and, in far less time.  From T’s, they’ve diversified to fleece, polos, Henley’s, and other knit tops.

Broder and San Mar—two of the larger wholesale sportswear distributors—are carrying T-shirts in tall’s as the bigger manufacturers, such as Gildan, are catching on.  The larger sizes are becoming commonplace.  What used to be a range of S-XL went to 2XL, 3XL, and 4XL.  Now, many of the alpha sized companies go up to 5XL and 6XL without missing a beat.  Yes, the jacket trade is going in the same direction, too.

Scrubs and labcoats are made in 4XL, 5XL, and larger.  Pants and tops in solids and cute itty-bitty prints that fold around mammoth bodies—Fashion Seal, Medgear, Landau, Cherokee—all of them.  Aprons in bib and cobbler styles come in XL’s; there are even styles that are designed for fuller chests and hips, having added fabric to the tops and waists.  Fame makes three or four aprons that come from a tuxedo pattern and look terrific, while at the same time don’t fold into a woman’s fuller cleavage.

Our country as a whole has become a nation of wider and taller individuals: Whether it’s that some men are exercising and have athletic builds requiring looser sleeves and broader shoulders; or other guys who are portly’s or stout’s; whether it’s larger young women, or older gals who are experiencing “let-go” in every direction—the manufacturers are increasing their size ranges, and paying more attention to comfort and attractiveness, there’s no question. 

Nothing is worse than a heavier person who is wearing apparel that is too small and too tight with bulges, and buttons that are popped open, or that is too short and rides up.  “Sleek and Chic” is the motto, and no matter the build or the girth, with easy-fit, flattering designs that accommodate all sizes, and experienced sales reps, more really can be better.

Hamburger Woolen Company, Inc.: UniformMarketNews.com

In seven months, Hamburger will celebrate its 70^th anniversary.  There are over 600 Internet sites that refer to it.  Multiple articles have been written, and numerous websites mention its capacity, capabilities, and far-reaching influence in the garment industry—not only in the United States, but throughout the world.   Not bad when one stops to think about these precarious economic times!  Not only is it still in business, but with the strength and determination of its owners and loyal co-workers, Hamburger remains a revered name.  “We’re a wonderful company.”  Ilene Hamburger Rosen says confidently.  “We advocate for each and every one of our buyers, and we bend over backward for them.” 

In addition to its primary focus, which is fabric distribution, Hamburger also maintains its division of police equipment—HWC Police Equipment Company—which has been in existence for 30+ years.  Between the two areas, a strong and healthy future is the clear forecast.

Ilene is the president of the family-owned firm.  “These are not the best of times, but they’re not the worst of times.   You can’t look back,” she insists pragmatically.  “Sure, I liked it better when it was easy and fun.  But now, everything has changed.  You just go forward and do your best.”

Irving Hamburger founded the company January 1, 1940.   Originally, he worked for the American Woolen Company; there were no synthetics or polyesters in those days.  Uniforms were made of 100% wool.   He saw that while large manufacturers could purchase hundreds to thousands of yards, there was no way that the little guy could manage to either afford or warehouse the huge quantities that were mandated by such mills as American Woolen, J.P. Stevens, and many others. Astutely, Irving decided to become a distributor of these goods, by buying up large 600-800 yard pieces.  He warehoused them himself, cut them up, and re-sold them to smaller manufacturers on an “on demand” basis.  “We bought, sold, cut, and shipped,” says Ilene.  “Our fast 24 hour delivery service is what really got us going.  We earned a reputation for prompt shipping and superb customer service, continuing that same practice for both divisions, today.”

Irving initially had two backers, then bought them out as the company quickly took off.  It became a family affair, with cousins, brothers-in-law, brothers, and eventually his sons.  “He supported everyone,” marvels Ilene. 

“In fact,” she continues in her matter-of-fact New Yorkese, “the reason that the police division was created is because Uncle Stewart was always fighting with Uncle Nat; so to give Uncle Stewart something to do and keep the two of them separate, Dad started the police equipment business.  Who could imagine that Uncle Stewart’s one-page hand-out would become our 90-page catalogue and that we are now warehousing over 1900 items for wholesale distribution?”

Lloyd Hamburger, Irving’s eldest son, was always groomed to go into the business.  When Irving passed away unexpectedly, Lloyd came home immediately after completing his military service in the early ‘50’s, and took his place as president of the company, where he remained until 2004.   What Irving founded, Lloyd capitalized upon, and the business mushroomed.  Polyesters were in existence by then—by themselves and blended with woolens.  Hamburger Woolen Company catered to schools, the airline business, hotels, restaurants, casinos, and bands—wherever uniform manufacturers had a use or a need; it still does. 

Hamburger sold to everyone, and it became a well known name in the uniform industry, which at that time was located in New York—the hub of world apparel manufacturing.  “When I got married, the entire garment industry came to my wedding, because they were all right here,” reminisces Ilene.  “My parents’ social friends were also their business colleagues.

Married with two grown children, and a husband who is a physician, Ilene Rosen is one smart cookie.  She is a graduate of Tulane University, both in the liberal arts, and with a law degree.   She keeps her law license current, and can practice in New York, should she choose to.  “I did it for a while,” Ilene moans, “but I hated it.  I just hated it.”

When she and her two younger sisters were growing up, Lloyd would take his three daughters on a ritual outing every Saturday morning: Breakfast at the Dairy Famous Restaurant, and a day at the office.   They loved it.  As the sisters grew and went their separate ways, however, the memories stuck with Ilene.  After her experience in the legal world, and some work in the insurance industry, Ilene joined her father when Lloyd needed help at the office; the timing was perfect. 

As they expanded over the years, the firm moved from one building to the next, with their most recent quarters in a 15,000 square foot one-story building on Long Island.   “Our staff has been with us for at least 20 years, we’re settled, and we’re staying right here,” Ilene mentions. 

 “We have kept going through some rough times,” she says.  More currently, Hamburger has also gone into theme parks, and medical uniforms with its fabrics.  It sells specialty fabrications with highly specialized treatments and coatings, and virtually anything that a customer requests as long as it is in solids rather than prints.  “We also do stretch fabrics and organics,” Ilene adds.

“We are not a mill; we are a distributor, and that’s an important difference—and we are extremely competitive as a distributor.  We are strictly wholesale, and we work with dealers, distributors, and manufacturers.”  Hamburger’s longtime commitment to the North-American Association of Uniform Manufacturers & Distributors (NAUMD) is well known.

Asked about being a woman-owned business, Ilene is frank.  “I have never had a problem being a woman in business; however, the process of becoming certified as woman-owned business is a lot of work for little or no reward.  When this issue came up, I decided to become president of the firm, although Lloyd was older.  But it’s just a title.  What difference does it make?  I never found it a problem to be Lloyd’s daughter.  If people can say the kinds of things about me that they say about him, then I am very lucky.”

  

It Can Be Done--Karen Donovan: UniformMarketNews.Com

“I like to be part of a team.  I don’t want to do it all on my own,” says Karen Donavon.  The feisty 67 year-old takes time from her job to perch on a tall stool, and tell what it’s like to be a part of “the back of the house.”  The apparel business relies on thousands and thousands of people like Karen.   Some do one or two tasks; others are multiply trained and find themselves to be rarer than hen’s teeth in an industry that treasures them.

Gary Schultz, President of Edwards Garment Company, offered Karen a job on the spot when he met her, and asked her if she wanted to move to Kalamazoo.  “I’ve got only three like you, and one is about to leave!” he wailed.  Jest or no, the longtime multi-taskers are hard to find.

Whether larger corporations like Edwards, small manufacturers, or distributors, all of us need the folks who are the backbone of our industry. The more talented they are, the more quickly they rise to the top.  But there are also those whose “top” is about doing their jobs well, no matter how great or how small.  Karen is the perfect example.

She was raised on a 160 acre farm in Illinois, and learned from day one how important it was to do her work well; survival depended on it.  She learned the value of producing something that benefited her own family, and helped others at the same time.  “Uniforms are the same as my Daddy’s crops, or Mommy’s grapevine in her garden,” Karen recalls.  “When I work, I feel important because I know that I’m helping to make clothing that makes people feel proud.  I know that while I’m earning a salary and keeping busy, others are going to be looking mighty nice in the special outfits we do for them.  What could be a better job?”

Karen, like so many, learned to sew at an early age.  Her mother taught her, and she took Home Economics in school; if she wanted new clothes, the treadle sewing machine was there to accommodate her.  She graduated from high school and was off to the big city.  Six years later, after marrying and having her one and only child, Karen found herself looking for something to do that she really enjoyed.  In the meantime, she and her husband couldn’t afford much, so Karen decided that if she wanted pretty outfits, she was going to have to make them, herself. 

In the late ‘60’s, polyester double knit was “in.”  Karen went to the fabric store, and not having the money to buy a sewing machine, she learned to cut and hand-sew every bit of her own clothing.  When was the last time you bought fabric, cut it out on a pattern—knit, mind you—and made the whole thing including setting zippers, making the button-holes, doing the hem and all, so that it not only hung together for a decent period of time, but it fit you so well that you would be pleased to wear it in public.  When she applied for her first sewing job—a western wear manufacturer—she was hired on the spot.

Along the way, Karen had several people who helped her and trained her.  She made it a point to be curious, and to learn as many things as she could about each business and the world of garments.   Her first supervisor, Marie, taught her how to run sewing machines—and how to work on assembly line production.  She started on Western pants with their specialized pockets and styling, double needle stitching and bar-tacking; for years, that was her specialty.  

From there, she moved on to band uniform pants, with adjustable side zippers, bibbers, high waistbands, and stripes.  “I just loved to make stripes,” Karen smiles.  “Yep.  I was a real hummer with that sewing machine foot that keeps the braid straight.  I like things to go smooth and fast.  I like to make noise and I like to be heard.  I like it to be known that I’m doing my job.”

When the band factory decided to move its quarters to Missouri, it not only offered Karen a job, but promised her husband a good job, too—she was that valuable.  However, Karen turned it down.  She liked where she was, and decided that maybe it was time to try something new:  Dry-cleaning.  A couple of old-timers (Inga and Star) showed her the ropes, and Karen was off in a new direction of her apparel career.  “I thought it was fascinating!  I learned how to press clothes, fold them, get spots out and what cleaned what the best.  We had a lot of fun.”  Eventually, she was given her own store to manage on a university campus.  She laughs.  “I’ll tell you, between the cops coming in all the time, and those terrible stains from the fraternity parties, it was an education.”

She went back to the uniform business after the dry-cleaners closed down.  This time, she came back as a presser.  “New garments aren’t the same as old garments,” she found.  “New garments have no creases, nothing knows where it’s supposed to go, the lapels aren’t set, the pants don’t lie straight, the facings and linings have to be just right or they hang outside of the clothing.  Coats—blazers and them—those are the hardest to press.  There’s training in that, and it takes a smart person to train you right and teach the short-cuts.  Otherwise, it takes forever.”

“I like pressing.  I can be in my own little element and press my heart away.  I make mistakes from time to time, and I’m not perfect.  I insist on neatness; the secret to inspecting is that if it don’t lay straight, it ain’t gonna work.  That’s all there is to it.”

Karen was now working in a smaller shop, and there wasn’t manpower or salaries for one person to do only one job.  She learned how to handle all the special machines, such as the button and button-hole machines (as well as the different types of button holes that can be made), the snap machines and kick presses, the hemmer, the pocketing machine, and whatever else was left.  “It was all just so fascinating,” she says over and over.

“I’ve been at my recent shop for over 11 years, I guess.  The time passes so quickly.  I expect I’ll retire when I’m around 70.  But right now, in addition to running the machines, pressing, or inspecting and shipping, I’m helping out the new owner the way Marie, Inga, and Star helped me.  That’s a real good feeling—like I’m paying them back.  I try to do the right thing by people, I try to be optimistic and believe that yeah, it can be done.”