Accommodations: UniformMarketNews.com

Originally, uniforms were meant to be worn by a single class of people:  Healthy, youthful-to-middle-aged men.  They were homogeneous, built pretty much the same, and lived about 46 years.    

Depending on the service required, a uniform was designed for a particular duty and rank.  A sailor wore a different outfit than an infantry man; a seaman wore a different outfit than the captain.  Basically however, things were pretty much the same.  The old joke is that uniforms used to be made in two sizes: Too big and too small.  There were stock sizes, little custom tailoring or adjustability, and no stretch fabrics as everything was made from natural fibers, and standard designs.

The word uniform meant "one shape," as it does today.  Uniform apparel was about identity of task and duty.  It also served as a protection.  Nothing more.  It was not a fashion statement; nor was it meant for comfort.  It was utilitarian, and it was worn with great pride.  It was one of the aspects of the profession that a man valued most--the apparel that went with the job.

It didn't matter whether a uniform was meant for land or sea, town or country.  Many of the uniforms were made by kinfolk, the local seamstresses, tailors, undertakers, or the leather tanner.  For the military, there were groups of people who labored for this purpose. 

It wasn't until later that women had uniforms, and they were different.  First of all, women were built differently; also, they did different things.  Usually classified as domestics, working women generally wore uniforms to indicate a kitchen, hospital, restaurant, or chores done in the inside of a home. 

Because women didn't go off to war, didn't march in parades or drive plows on a regular basis, their uniforms were primarily self-made to suit their individual needs; either that, or there would be a local seamstress that would fashion an upstairs maid's outfit, or cook's apron.

The twentieth century brought more and more women into the forefront.  Accommodations and compromises had to be made.  Wars, transportation and communication brought countries, societies, cultures and classes, closer and closer together.  Uniforms changed. 

Yesterday's cook's aprons are today's unisex chefs' coats.  They even come in pink, with button-reversal for girls.  What a woman wore to serve is no longer the dress with an apron and little cap, but a golf shirt and slacks.  Today, those who work inside the home are in T-shirts or cobbler aprons; the black dress with lace collar and cuffs is no more.  

The biggest change is that women work right beside the men--in the military, in agriculture, within industry, in hospitality, or corporate.  You name it, and women are there.  They are estheticians, welders, and everything in between.  Not infrequently, they are pregnant and that necessitates maternity uniforms.

Women  require similar designs, fabrics, attractiveness, and the same protection as men.  How much femininity is added and how much remains masculine.  How close do women's price points compare with men's?  If men's  industrial pants sell five or six times more pairs than women's, does the price point remain the same for the lower volume of women's pants?  Does it go up?  They are not any more difficult to make, but what about cost, per size and per pattern?  Is this discrimination even if styles for them sell one-fifth the quantity?

If it weren't enough to have women outfitted, the next accommodation was the larger and taller sizes.  Better nutrition, a more affluent economy, improved technology, all seem pointed to bigger bodies.  The first step was oversize for men--fuller sizes.  The 2x, and gradual increase to 5 or 6x, and more...  When it became clear that men grew up as well as out, long body garments and arm lengths evolved: Plus two inches, plus four inches plus six inches...  No more high-water- pants, or skimpy sleeves.  Just big and tall.

Women?   There are women's  plus sizes, and of course petites on the other end of the spectrum.  Societies all over the world have become so diverse, that every uniform has to be made for him and her, for tall and short, for fat and thin, and unisex if possible. 

Some uniform manufacturers choose to add multiple stylings and sizes in order to accommodate this huge variety of demographic diversification.   Some have slashed their lines tremendously, salvaging only their most popular colors and best-selling styles.  Then, they offer multiple choices but within fewer items, overall.  Some have decided not to buy into diversification and just continue doing what they do best with the size patterns they have, in styles that work.

  Catalogues have become thinner as manufacturers draw their lines in the sand, defining what their specialties are; others have sprung up to fill the gaps where some fall short.  When one contemplates all that the history of uniforms tells us, how we as a species are evolving, it's amazing!  The paradox is that the more we realize how different we are, the more accommodations we make remain the same. 

Too Many Choices?: UniformMarketNews.Com

Why is it that uniform sellers today offer so many items in their catalogues or stores?  Is it to corner the market, or is it just to dazzle and overwhelm?   Do we really need all of this?

It is a known fact that the more choices a person has, the more interested and fascinated one becomes; at the same time, the fewer choices one has, the more likely one is to buy.  What is a seller to do?  Certainly, there are times when a huge variety plays an important part in selection.  However, there are other occasions when less is more--the narrowed selection becomes much easier for a person to handle.  Thus, rather than spending large amounts of energy trying to make choices, one's energy can be better spent making the actual purchase.  

The United States is known to be the world's greatest marketplace for choice.  The good news is that almost anything can be found here; the not so good news is that the multitude of choices makes getting through the morass of pickings quite challenging, and this confusion can eliminate the finality of decision.

Let's take the medical apparel business as an example.   It used to be that hospital personnel wore white, and in surgery it was light blue or a sea green.  These uniforms were symbols of medical professionalism, cleanliness, identity, and a kind of sanctity.  Color and style defined job description, and what to wear was a simple choice.  Then, it was easy.  Now, it becomes more of a fashion show. 

For a business to sell medical uniforms today,  there has to be an enormous investment in inventory:  Labcoats come in white or light blue--long, medium, or short in style; shorter counter/pharmacy coats are in multiple colors; women's, men's, or unisex; belted or not, side vents or closed, knit cuffs or plain, OSHA requirements or standard; rip-stop fabric, polyester, poly-cotton , or 100% cotton; with snaps, zippers, or buttons.

Scrubs come in women's, men's, and unisex, too, with sizes ranging from alpha to numeric.  If one gets past that, then there are sets or separates.  In addition to the fabric offerings mentioned above, these are also made in microfiber.

 

Scrub designs are made in snuggly jackets, short sleeved pullovers for summer, or long sleeved for those who get chilled. There are vests, skirts, the popular pants, and of course, the ubiquitous scrub top.  The top can be in a "v" or jewel neck, has a mandarin or straight bodice, ties or none at all, is empire or plain at the waist. 

There are prints and solids--a myriad of both: Darks, lights, peacefuls and brights.  Some have bias to contrast and accent; some are monochromatic.  Some have pockets, others are without.  The entire pocket concept in a scrub top is worthy of several hours' study: Upper pockets, lower pockets, slit pockets, patch pockets, thermometer pockets, stethoscope pockets and, of course the pockets can range from four to none.

The pants are drawstring, drawstring with elastic, or elastic only.  There are shorter ones and longer ones, flared bell bottoms and straight stovepipes.  There are one or two pockets in the back or not, pockets in the front or not, and cargo pockets on the thighs--or not.  Some have additional multiple pockets on each thigh, and there is a special cell phone pocket that is in high demand, too. 

These uniforms are terrific items for any medical care professional.  They are comfortable, easy to launder, and serve their purpose.  But is it all necessary for garments that are worn at most for a single day's work, and then thrown into a sanitizing laundry--usually with blobs of fluids that are spattered here and there?

   There are catalogues by the dozens and multiple styles.  There are manufacturers galore, and every one has its own set of designs, fabrics, colors, or prints. 

So what is a uniform seller to do?  Does he take the practical approach, pick a few styles of each in a basic colors and hope for the best?  Does he open a big-box store of medical apparel and stock racks and racks of various vendors and offerings?   What is the manufacturer to do in an attempt to satisfy each and every customer, when he makes all this merchandise in the first place?

One customer with whom we spoke, is in charge of a school for medical students.  She recently abandoned the big-box stores in favor of a small, mom-and-pop.  She said quite plainly that that she wanted her students to get a single color, a single style in a particular fabric, with the understanding that medicine was not about fashion, but science.  On the other hand, another customer felt just as strongly that if professionals had multiple choices and could feel good about themselves in their work apparel, then it would make all the difference in their job satisfaction.  So I leave it to you: Choose from a lot or choose from a few; there is room for both.  It's your choice...     

Measure Twice, Cut Once: UniformMarketNews.com

It used to be that no matter what we did, we had to do it better:  "Good, better, best; never let it rest--until your good is better, and your better best."  A manufacturer would smile contentedly as he finished an order and quip, "Perfect is good enough."  But, today, the stressed salesman snaps at his impatient customers, "We can give you cheap, quick, or good: Pick two.  You can't have all three!"  In today's world, guess which two most people pick.

Over the last few weeks, I have spoken with several companies:  One was doing ceremonial coats for a specialty group.  Five men with five unique measurements all fitting into size 5xl, one way or another.  Each was more specially shaped than the one before.  Directions were impeccable, fabric was magnificent, embroidery was superb, the pattern perfect. Cutters and sewing operators with years of experience were lined up to present these gentlemen with five perfect coats.  It was to be a collective work of uniform magnificence.  What happened?  Despite explicit instructions, their wives took the measurements, instead of the fellows going to skilled tailors.  Guess what? 

One guy had sleeves that came up to his elbows, because the back was too narrow by five inches.  One forgot that the abdomen doesn't disappear when the coat goes on, and his 59 inch stomach acted as a "front porch," left hanging between  his two 64 inch "side verandas."  Another gentleman's spouse didn't know where her husband's waist was, buried somewhere in his rotund figure; thus, the top of the coat looked like it had an empire waist, also about three inches too short at the hem.  The best is that the guys got the coats, didn't try them on, had them ornately embroidered for an unmentionable amount of money, and only afterward realized that the coats had to be trashed!

Then, there was the police department.  The secretary took down the specifics on this one, claiming she was an alteration lady on the side.  From our military uniform source, I surmise that her skills were very "on the side."  The coats were standard Marine Corps design, braided by hand with edge cord, all around.  In 100% wool elastique, they cost a pretty penny, as first class military coats do.  It turned out the gal had measured one fellow's coat three inches too long, and the entire coat had to be ripped out, cut down, re-lined, re-braided.  The pants for a different officer were criticized as being made far too small for his large, muscular thighs.  The salesman was told that his customer couldn't get the pants on.  When the officer was re-measured for new pants, his thighs were actually an inch narrower than originally thought; it was his seat that was two inches too small.  On it went...

A restaurateur complained that his 3xl gal was wearing a jumper and pinafore apron that were too short regarding the waist length, and asked the manufacturer if it would mind re-designing the pattern  to accommodate this woman's rather large bosom.  The manufacturer explained that an entirely new pattern had to be drafted, graded, etc., and that a custom pattern  for one uniquely built size 3xl would cost a fortune, suggesting an alteration lady, instead.  But no mind.  The gal was taken with a seizure of modesty, refused to get measured and as a result, the owner of the eatery sent the lady's old uniform to the manufacturer, with instructions to make her new uniforms just the same as the old but with a longer bodice.  How much longer, he couldn't say.  No one knows to this day.

Finally, there is the theatrical producer who needed Johnny-on-the-spot costumes for his dancers: Two weeks' notice, four different fabrications, three different garments per uniform to outfit the entire cast.  All were ritz and glitz, goods that were more slippery and clingy than skin on a snake, and so thin the garments couldn't be made up without fusing, lining, and heaven knows what.  Okay.  For skilled manufacturers of theme park attire, no worries, right?   But oop, when the stage manager gave the sewing operators their instructions, he forgot to reveal that there were two different styles of jackets rather than one; the wrong color fabric had been listed on the purchase order for one entire group of dancers (there were three groups); the fabric (which was really meant for flimsy bowties,  not coats and pants ) was 20 inches too narrow; he had forgotten to order one fabric, while short on the other three; and the fellow didn't include the custom-designed patterns.  Oh, yes, pant hem lengths were left out of the measurements, too.

So there you are.  Why accuracy matters.  Which reminds me, a well-known tailor recently came across a new tape measure that started at three inches, rather than at zero.  Have you ever taken a measurement that was three inches larger than the person's actual size?  Try it in your own business, sometime.  But    remember to measure twice, and cut only once. 

Ralph's: UniformMarketNews.Com

You can drive by the two single-story 1950's buildings and never know they are there: Non-descript blonde brick office types separated by a driveway, each small enough to take in both at a single glance.  A curved awning over one of the entrances, with a threaded needle laminated in place, separates the importance of the one building from the other.  To the right is sales and parts; to the left is the machine shop and service.  The driveway allows for deliveries. 

Inside, it is an entirely different story.  The machine shop is full of technical wheels and honing tools that mold and manufacture various precision parts for this and that.  Its gloomy concrete interior has men in goggles bent over their work.  Except for bald florescent lights and flying sparks--everything is grey.  Beyond the machines is service for the sewing department.  There are older men and younger, who are cleaning, re-wiring, adding new parts to damaged irons, pressing equipment, sewing machines, cutting knives, or whatever.

Across the way is the front office: People drive in from all over, to consult, order, gossip, schmooze and network, just like at the general store in a small town.  Behind the office is the parts department--grey metal shelving with bin after bin of needles, folders, sizes of machine foots, bobbins, scissors, multiple types of colored  thread, all kinds of grease, oil, and even cans of air.  You name it, and Ralph's has it; if it doesn't have it, it will be ordered.  Customers saunter in and lean on the antiquated glass counter tops that separate them from the clerks, while they check over the bulletin board where folks either advertise themselves or pick up an advertisement from others for jobs, skills, and equipment.  

Beyond the parts department is the machinery that is for sale--both new and re-furbished.  The wooden floors creak, all of it is old, cramped, and ever so homey.  It's a place where blue collar folks congregate to talk about their trades and common interests:  They're all of a same mind, knowledgeable, and proud.

Ralph Badillo, now in his late 70's, still comes in every day.  Irma, his wife, does the books; daughter Peggy runs the shipping and special orders; son Joe is in parts; and younger son Paul invents equipment and has obtained 17 different patents for his inventions that keep the machine shop busy. 

Besides the family, there are the machinists, of course, and then, there is Jack--Mr. Customer Service.  Jack, who sports a handlebar moustache that he waxes once a day, and a gold watch fob with a knife, scissors, and screw driver for adjusting machinery, has degrees in industrial and mechanical engineering with minors in design,  physics, and management.  Before he came to work at Ralph's in 1991,  he spent 20 years traveling around the world setting up different shops and factories, and that is his strength--that, and his ability to win the trust of every customer he meets. 

He not only understands equipment, but he knows where it goes and how to use it; he can set up an entire shop, figuring how many machines to use, which one a customer needs to buy, and how many employees are needed to run the place.  He has become the showman of the company-- he is Mr. Personality, and he definitely knows his stuff.  Jack said it best when he remarked, "I love working at Ralph's because it's a small family business without the corporate nonsense.  If I go on a sales call, I never have to worry.  Everybody here supports each other.  What makes us special to our customers is our advice and our knowledge."

In 1927, Singer Sewing Company had its machine shop for retail and wholesale trade located in Denver, Colorado, a centralized hub for the Rocky Mountain region of the United States.  It did well in the largely open and non-competitive West, but as the years wore on and more shops opened up, Singer's management realized that it needed an expert mechanic who understood machines in more than a basic way; there were too many different kinds of machinery, too many different kinds of things being made. 

Ralph Badillo, already employed by Singer in New York, took the job, and he brought his young family with him, remaining with the firm for several more years.  It was Ralph who, while still with Singer, made all the contacts with the customers, did all the repairs, and knew all the machinery.  He left Singer in 1975, taking his large clientele with him.  He started Ralph's Power Industrial Sewing Machine Company, and went into direct competition with Singer (which was exclusive and would not allow itself to be sold with other sewing machine brands at that time).  Ralph took on machines made by Juki, Brother, Pfaff, and Adler--all fine competitors to Singer.  The Singer shop, realizing it was not able to compete, ultimately gave him the right to sell the Singer machines, too, under the name of Power Sewing of Denver.  It remains that way, today:  Singer is sold under its own company name, but it's all at Ralph's.

Unimaginably enterprising, Ralph sold equipment for every aspect of sewing:  Dressmaking, uniforms, saddlery, interior design, draperies,  upholstery, mattresses, police and fire garments.  There were no limits to what he could do.  He offered on-the-job service with his trucks and mechanics, he offered parts and repairs.  He was unique in his concept of customer service, and he worked the entire western portion of the country.  He also picked up the prisons in multiple states when they began to contract sewing work; wherever there was a machine to be purchased, or one to be repaired, Ralph's was there.

Ralph captured the entire market from California to east of the Mississippi, where he still controls the area.  As time went on, other shops like his either went out of business, or became so specialized that they extinguished themselves.  Ralph's, by diversifying, has remained steady and continues to grow. 

The machine shop was a result of son Paul's genius.  He is basically an inventor with a keen mind and the ability to come up with a solution for just about anything.  Patent after patent, Paul has created attachments for various machines that manufacture such things as soft eyelets for hats, fabric grommets without metal for police and fire shirts, non-metal mattress handles and borders, airbags, automobile covers, collars for dogs and belts for people.   Whatever a company needs, Paul has come up with, and Ralph's machinists create it along with the patent.  "In-house product development is the secret to our success," says Ralph.  "Our solutions require deep technological thought."

 
    Ultimately, Ralph's  has become a contractor and converter of parts for such plants as General Motors, General Electric, Ball Aerospace, Hartz Mountain Pet Supplies,  O'Cedar mops,  the Fuller Brush Company, and Samsonite Luggage.  The best invention is a forever sharp glass blade, co-manufactured with Coors Ceramics, to be used for cutting through thick fabrics such as jeans and mattresses.  What was originally meant for making sewing machine parts, additionally now sells tiny precision items made specifically for satellites, automobiles, university research, and more.

 All of this goes on in the little building across the driveway.  It has also allowed the company to survive during economic downfall and recession.  Interestingly, the apparel business, including uniforms, has become a relatively small part of Ralph's, now.  Says Jack, "Apparel in America basically went out during the '70's and early '80's." 

Today, Ralph's ships all over the world.  It does work in Africa, Canada, Honduras, Argentina, Brazil, England, France, and Germany.   Ralph's has become an institution in American machinery and sewing needs, and sees only a bright future ahead as it continues to diversify and reach out to new customers and trends.

N.A.U.M.D. With Richard Lerman: UniformMarketNews.Com

Bam!  2006 and Richard Lerman hit the ground running, taking over the North-American Association of Uniform Manufacturers & Distributors.  Lerman, a native New Yorker,  who hails from the Bronx and Queens, is quick to discount himself and focus on his organization.  With a background in communications, business, and the advertising arts, he doesn't believe in resting on the accomplishments listed in his resume, but rather on what's happening in the here and now.   A devotee of membership associations, he gets a genuine thrill out of renovating an organization from A to Z, while building its population, as he adds benefits and perks that will enhance the quality of life for so many of its members.

"When I first came to NAUMD," recalls Richard, "the association was healthy enough, but it wasn't functioning in the 20th century."  Lerman assessed the situation, and embarked upon an innovative plan to advance the group's direction.  First,  there was the website: The NAUMD newsletter was put online, and then completely overhauled twice since he arrived.   Next, a host of benefits was added to draw the uniform industry into participating in greater numbers: The Dun &  Bradstreet program; Hartford Merchant Services; sales training & sales hiring testing programs; healthcare support benefits; direct discounts for the members; and more.

The awards programs were significantly improved.  When various competitive categories of uniform  excellence were held at the NAUMD gatherings, members had previously been judging themselves.  Lerman brought in professional outside judges who had no vested interests in the contestants, and people could truly congratulate themselves on their worthiness as recipients of the awards.  He also expanded  recognition for the winners and put everything online for all to see.  Enhanced with top-notch stars, banquets, and praise for nominees and winners, the "Image of the Year" award has become a coveted title.  Because of such a thrust, proper respect has been given to various uniform packages that heretofore would not have been acknowledged, let alone given top honors at a convention.  Who would think of public safety uniforms being voted "Best Dressed?"

Lerman expanded the NAUMD committee base and saw to it that four to five new committees were added, drawing more members into participating roles.  He worked on locating programs, products, and sources for imagewear programs.  He can barely stop to take a breath as he reveals all that's happened and all that's going on, directing the uniform industry toward the future.  500 new company memberships have come on board since he took the helm! 

In part because of his background and because he is who he is, Richard Lerman dedicates himself to the members of NAUMD as his first priority.  Membership, legislative & regulatory rules, and exhibitors, are just a few of the committees that are a part of the association.  Its fingers are on the pulse of the industry in the United States, and the world.  It used to be that NAUMD was all about the American industry.  Now, with so many items being made offshore,  the demography has morphed to include Canada and Mexico, as well as inviting other uniform sellers, dealers,  manufacturers, and distributors to join.  "It wasn't an arbitrary decision to invite others ," informs Richard.  "Over 75% of the membership voted to have these countries participate with us.  In addition, because of their enormous involvement in sales and production, if we hadn't included them,  they would've excluded us."  The door is open to all countries, from China and Africa to European nations and Australia. 

The response has been resoundingly positive,  and the results have been to promote trade, respect, familiarity, and support in all aspects of the uniform field.  This is a good thing because as Lerman reminds us,  "'Made in America' is just fine, but on Capitol Hill, many people don't know what that means; if they do, they don't care.  There are now several laws that get around this issue, as offshore manufacturing is so much cheaper than American goods.  As long as there is a trade agreement, anything can be made anywhere."

Politics,  lobbying,  economics and trade are all a part of what NAUMD knows and does.

Richard Lerman is adamant, as is NAUMD, that prison uniform manufacturing be dispensed with.  For example, he chafes at the notion that prisoners should sew their own garments, given who they are and why they're in prison, wearing that particular apparel in the first place.  Second, as an association that advocates for the uniform business, the question of competition arises:  Why should government (through federal prison-made garments) compete with private industry?  It's the very antithesis of the American enterprise--capitalism.

Believe it or not, Lerman is only on the first leg of his entrepreneurial endeavor.  His plans include a new logo, new tagline,  better benefits and an even better image of NAUMD.  He wants to offer ongoing analyses of the industry and let the members know.  "As the epi-center of the uniform industry and imagewear," says Lerman, "we are working toward an agency where members can design, create, manufacture, and sell to the end users--dealers and distributors."

Richard Lerman responded to several questions about issues from "green" technology, illegal immigrants, unions, and US manufacturing capabilities; his strong energy came through as he focused on what is best for good business.  He waxed philosophically but pragmatically: "The real question is how we as a country are going to stay competitive for business.  We cannot manufacture here anymore because we have no raw materials.   There was a time in our history when the role of the association was about being made in America.  Now, everything is outsourced if we are to remain profitable.

  "We've become a service economy," says Lerman, "and if we are going to survive, we must not put our heads in the sand.  We have to compete, stay ahead of the technological curve, and succeed as we remain in the forefront of development regarding imagewear and uniform programs.  We have to meet the needs of the customer while making a profit for ourselves."

Re-stating his committed enthusiasm for his job, and his dedication to the welfare of NAUMD members, Richard Lerman reminds us that the uniform is a tool.  It projects the entire focus of a business or an industry, and that both staff and customers are influenced by the presence of uniforms in the workplace.  As trivial or as taken-for-granted as one might assume they are,  change them or eliminate them,  and the whole  perception of a company becomes different.  "Our business might not be as robust as it used to be, but don't tell me that every company doesn't need a uniform program," retorts Lerman.  "Listen carefully to the voice of our membership, as I do, and this is exactly what you will hear."