All the Trimmings

Classic dress pinstripe- $5.99 (circa 1960)

                                                        

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Lawn Menswear,. like many other shops of its day, depended on the display in the front windows for advertisement. Our store was on a busy street corner, and frequently customers came in after being attracted to  the windows.

Every few months, late on a Saturday afternoon before closing, the  two window displays  that held boots shoes, work uniforms, casual clothing and other assorted merchandise were systematically emptied, swept, washed and prepared for the man who came on Sundays to trim the windows.

As a stock boy, I needed to get this job quckly, with little help from my parents who were busy on the sales floor. This was a fairly complicated task that took me at least a few months to learn without toppling fixtures, mixing up merchandise , breaking glass or dirtying the white floor display floor.

What could possibly be so hard about taking stuff out of a window and storing it?
 The trimmer had carefully balanced shoes, shirts and slacks on specially designed  adjustable fixtures made of wood, glass and steel. Heavy work boots and rubber overshoes hung on invisible hooks. Sport shirts and sweaters were layered on male mannequins. Fancy fedoras were displayed on tilted shelves.  During the  holiday season, tinsel and snowflakes had been generously applied to to the walls and windows.

All this had to be systematically removed .The merchandise was sorted and placed back into stock or in storage. Each trimming fixture was carefully removed and cleaned with lots of Windex and elbow grease. These fixtures were then lined up at the back of the store in order of height for easy selection the next day. Done, you say? Not nearly.  After that my work really began.

With the display windows bare, came the job of deep cleaning them. Mom's formula for sparkling windows did not include Windex. She mixed  good old fashioned liquid soap and vinegar into a gallon bucket, gave me a brush, a  squeegee and a large supply of old newspapers.. This may sound  antiquated, but it really got the job done. The windows were  washed and all of the sale posters  and holiday glitter was removed in one fell swoop. If any posters remained, I used a single edge razor to take them off. So, you might say I learned to shave before I had whiskers. If the weather cooperated , the same process was repeated on the outside of the windows, with the aid of a stepladder. I had the added benefit of seeing who was passing by on the street, and getting comments like, "You missed a spot" or "How's the weather up there, kid?" Over and over...


Old newspaper had been spread on the display floor to eliminate spillage from the windows and dirt from my shoes. When everything passed  mom's inspection, she looked at the time. If it was close to 6:00 PM, the store would close and I would race  to finish as quickly as possible. However, sometimes  I was slow, and my dad drove my mom home  to start supper.
I would set the alarm and lock myself in.
Putting on heavy wool stockings, I would remove the  paper and use a mop and bucket to carefully wash the floor. While the floor was drying, I would sit just outside the display case and read or listen to the radio. When  I was finished, I called my dad and he would drive back the short distance from our house to pick me up.

One winter evening, I watched steam rise from the manholes on the street as I waited for my ride. From around the corner, a man dressed in a long overcoat walked up to the store window. He seemed confused by the fact that it was empty and the store was dark. After a few moments, he started banging on the door to get my attention. I pointed to the closed sign and gestured to my watch. He ignored me and began banging on the windows ,shouting , "I need that shirt, damnit, let me in."

To say the least, I was scared. What I probably should have done was to call the police. Instead, I pulled out a small key from my pocket  and set off the burglar alarm. Instantly a  monster bell began clanging.  The man looked at me in suprise and  dismay. Two seconds later, he was halfway down the block. I switched off the alarm and called my dad.  After that incident, I was never left to finish the windows alone.

The next morning, Dad would return to the store and  help trim the window. The trimmer was a really interesting character. He smoked expensive cigars that he shared with my father. Also, he brought a small FM radio  always tuned to classical music or opera. As he worked, he puffed his cigar, and conducted the music with a wave of his arm. The windows always turned out beautifully. Invariably, a customer
would  ask for something out of the window. The answer was always no.No one wanted the risk of  upsetting that careful balance our trimmer had created.