The bra is misunderstood, Earlene Moore wants you to know.
"Ninety percent of the women wear the wrong bra," says Moore, a bra fitter at Saks Fifth Avenue. "Most have never been fitted.
"And everyone thinks they are a 34B. In their dreams."
Impeccably dressed and looking fresh from the salon, the 90-year-old Moore will welcome a customer with, "What are you looking for, Darlin'?" And the fun, and education, begins.
There is nothing worse than a bad-fitting bra. Well, shoes, maybe, but that's another story. Moore, with 65 years of experience in the retail clothing business, is ready to come to the rescue. Here's her tried-and-true approach:
—Eyeball 'em. "I don't need a tape measure."
—Select two or three brands to try. "And ask if they want a bra for knits or a bra with a seam."
—Fit 'em. "You're darn right, I go into the dressing room with them. I ask them to hold their arms out and lean forward, especially if they're big-busted. I'll fasten the bra. That's the key. I'll adjust the straps. I can see if it fits right."
—Ask, ask, ask. "I want to know how the bra fits. I can tell how a bra fits but not how it feels. When it feels good, it just belongs to you."
—Be honest. "I don't mind telling someone it doesn't look right. I've never lost a sale by being honest. That's how people learn to trust you, and if that trust builds, they will come back."
—Stay. "When a woman comes in to shop, you don't leave her."
—Then walk away. "I'll ask them to put their blouse back on so they can see how it looks with clothes. Once a customer has tried two or three bras, I tell them the decision is theirs. I'll walk away. Who am I to say, buy both?"
Once a sale is secured, Moore's not done. A bra is an investment, she says, so maintenance is important.
"Don't throw them in the laundry with your blue jeans," she says. "I prefer that you hand wash them, but if you do put them in a washing machine, put the bra is a zipped mesh bag. And, never, never put them in the dryer, because that breaks down the elasticity. Hang-dry them. Girls are the worst at taking care of bras."
Don't get her started. She recommends that moms bring their daughters for a fitting. "Girls need to know about a quality bra and one that fits properly," she says. At Saks, quality bras go for between $44 and $88.
And another thing: They don't have to wash a bra after every use, she says, and they should alternate between styles, giving some a rest. "Then hang them in the closet to air out. They will last longer," she says.
Big-busted women can be a challenge. "It's because you're trying to find the right bra that will lift them," she says. "Naturally, in the bigger sizes, they are droopy."
The largest size she's ever fitted? 44DDD.
Women aren't her only customers. Men come in to pick out nice lingerie for wives or girlfriends. "Some of them know what they're doing," she says. "One man spent an hour looking the other day, and of course he thought she was a 34B. He did select three panty-and-bra sets. Guess it pays to have a birthday."
Moore got her start in the business in 1939. She begged her way into her first job by offering to volunteer. Newly wed to accountant E.J. Gillespie, she "stomped" the corner of Fifth Street and Congress Avenue where the pillars of downtown commerce all had stores: Yaring's, Marie Antoinette, T.H. Williams and Scarbroughs.
"They kept telling me they didn't need anybody and I didn't have any experience," she says. "I finally wore down Leon Schmidt, the son of the owner at Yaring's. I told him I'd work for nothing if he just gave me the chance. He said no. Finally, I went in one morning and one of their sales ladies didn't come in. He asked if I could go to work right then."
Moore accepted a job selling costume jewelry and was then moved to accessories and fabrics. On weekends, she landed a part-time job at Goodfriends , a store across from the Paramount Theatre. "I earned $2 a day on weekends. At Yaring's, I earned about $9 for the week," she recalls.
She spent six months on the job before a death in the family forced her to leave Austin. She returned to Yaring's a year later. That was followed by a short stint in the millinery department at Marie Antoinette. Her first child, Judy, was born. Next for her was the millinery department at Scarbrough's around when her son Michael was born in 1947. "It was at Scarbrough's where I learned about lingerie," she says.
In the 1950s and '60s, the trend was "projected" bras. "You know, the pointed, cone-shaped bra. It wasn't until the 1980s that we had rounded bras when women started wearing more clingy clothes," she says.
She remained at Scarbrough's until 1964, when Dillard's at Hancock Center hired her away. At Dillard's, she went on buying trips to New York and began specializing in bras. "Girdles were big. I got a chance to go to seminars put on by bra makers Vanity Fair, Maidenform , Smooth, Olga, Lily of France and Bali," she said.
Moore left Dillard's in 1970, about the time she remarried to architect Walter Moore. And she opened Leger Lingerie at Jefferson Square in 1971. "It was the place, a nice intimate store where the elite ladies of Austin shopped," says friend and customer Judy McPhail.
"Oh, and remember when the men came in for their wives and girlfriends? We had a time with them," says Moore. "Even the transvestites found their way there."
Moore closed the shop in 1995. "There were too many changes going on in the fashion world. This was about the time that the casual style killed the fashion of the time. Women stopped dressing up and wanting beautiful lingerie," she says.
She retired, or so she thought, until Saks offered her a job in 1997. "Someone from my days at Leger Lingerie recommended me. Why not? I was home bored and just sitting around getting fat," she says.
Moore plans to work until she can't. "I'll die on the floor at Saks. This is what I've always wanted to do. And if you do something that makes you happy and makes other people happy, why would you do anything else?"
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Information from: Austin American-Statesman, http://www.statesman.com
