Flair Fashions

 

Between her divorce and my mother switching careers to become a journalist, she started her own business, Flair Fashions.

She wanted to be free days to take my bother and me to school and be present in general.

Her plan? Flair Fashions.

She would go into Boston's clothing district on Kneeland Street and pick out 30 outfits of various styles and sizes. Then copying the Tupperware party model, she would have house parties. Women would invite friends and they would order from the samples.

Our second living room was her office and stock room. For each party, the samples would be wrapped in green sheets and carried to the car.

She only worked September thru mid December and January thru June. Summer and Christmas were not good for business.

Soon people asked her to do fashion shows. She agreed.

She hired Mrs. Eisenhower (no relation to Ike) to be the moderator. Mrs. Eisenhower with her perfect figure and her hair in a bun oozed attainable style and elegance for the middle class 1950s New England woman. 

It worked well until Mrs. Eisenhower developed laryngitis the night before a big show for a local woman's club. My mother never thought of herself as a public speaker, but the night would be too lucrative to cancel. Also my mother had written all the descriptions and her they were brilliant.  Since my mother's other employee was Aunt Helen who could work back stage getting the volunteer models dressed and out on the temporary runway, the evening went without a hitch. 

She discovered sales were higher in less prestigious homes. Women from expensive houses had less disposable income. Pulling into a house with parked expensive new cars she knew again women would think of bills before clothes.

In the 1950s obesity was less of a problem, but my mother grew tired of women swearing they were a size 10 when they could barely get into a 16. She learned to say that this or that dress was made in smaller sizes than normal.

Mother considered me a walking advertisement.  During vacations I would go to Kneeland Street with her. The owners treated me as a princess and my mother, who had excellent taste, made sure I was well clothed. I could go over 20 days without wearing the same outfit. 

At my 30th class reunion a classmate asked if I NOW would I reveal where I bought my clothes. I'd always answered "My mother's business." The class mate thought I was being snobby until I told her that it was truly my mother's business. We laughed about it.

My mother became a journalist for the last 25 years of her life by accident She did not miss the house parties.