Buying clothes: The personal shopper

Janice Riggs of The Vivienne Files recently posted a terrific quote from Betty Halbreich, the famed personal shopper who for decades dressed Bergdorf Goodman's swank customers.

In her tart autobiography, "I'll Drink to That" (Halbreich favours the Mad Men era, libationally), she says that she refused to let a woman leave Bergdorf's in something that did not suit her. She even told compulsive shoppers that they already had enough.

How counter-cultural Halbreich's approach is today! Personal shoppers still exist in large cities, but they're endangered as the watercress sandwich. Where I live, Holt Renfrew have one (with a dedicated fitting room); Ogilvy (now owned by Holt's) too, if you ask, but most shops supply a sales person whose sole contribution is to ask, "What do you think?"

Pressure sales tactics are a major reason why I do much of my shopping online, and why retail stores are in deep trouble in the US.

The Big Three Persuaders that I hear on nearly every outing fall flatter than a Spanx-covered derrière:

1. "I just bought the same one"; or if the salesperson is twenty-five years younger than you, "My manager just bought that and she looks fantastic." Maybe—but I hear this line too often for it to hold water.

2. "They're flying out of the store." Why would that make it right for you? Designed to push the persuasive button of scarcity, same as "This is the last one in your size."

3. "You just need...". This is uttered if you express an objection. You just need to shorten it, wear it with a strapless bra, or sew the pockets shut.  I'll agree to the lingerie, but not major alterations.

Other persuasive tactics include "This is the best season from (designer) yet", and "You look better in this than anyone who's tried it on": perhaps true, but irrelevant to your decision.

In sales lingo, "flattering" is a euphemism for "makes you look thinner", the holy grail for many shoppers. (My friend Barbara would march into a boutique and command, "Show me every dress that will take 10 pounds off.")

Recently, a commenter said, "I don't think every item of clothing has to be "flattering" whatever that means..."

In the wider sense, "flattering" means the cut, fit, and colour highlight your best physical features. For example, if you inherited sloped shoulders, an unstructured jacket will make you look like an egg; a jacket with a discreet shoulder pad will give you a better line.

Stylish clothes may not be flattering, and vice versa. Though 'flattering' is definitely about vanity, it is also about wise consumption. Not understanding what suits you leads to the "stuffed closet but nothing to wear" situation.

I agree with the notion that not every item has to be flattering, to a point. If you're going camping, you might wear a Tilley "Wanderer" hat, the essence of unalloyed functionality.

And sometimes, what flatters you might not appeal for other reasons: red makes your skin glow, but you can't stand it; short skirts show off your legs, but you're a pants woman. But usually, I'd like a garment to ennoble, rather than just provide upholstery.

She may also have been thinking of certain professional roles, which take you to a classic, neutral suit, even though a vibrant print dress makes you look more energetic, or at least more fun.

Some of the specialty stores still offer a personal shopper, and not strictly for big spenders (but I concede that an appointment probably means a purchase.) A personal shopper, like an image consultant, might introduce us to clothes or accessories that make us feel wonderful, things we might have passed by, driven by habit. Should that happen, it's a learning experience, not just shopping.

Bergdorf's is a temple of luxury. The less-costly levels seem to offer only two speeds: hard-sell and no-sell. At COS, once you're greeted, they barely notice if you are alive.

Is it any wonder so many women depend more on the FedEx driver than the sales associate? We stand in our bedroom-dressing-rooms and enlist friends or partners as stylists, which may be an unfair burden. (Le Duc seems to see me unchanged after thirty years, which is sweet, but in truth my body shape and colour "season" are shifting as I age— or is it global warming?)

So, I raise a virtual martini to Betty Halbreich and her kind, visual artists first, sales associates a close second. If specialty apparel wants to survive, bring us more Bettys and pay them decently for their skill.