An unexpected package reminded me of the pioneering women of my heritage who had the courage to do something unexpected: start a business.
I received a giant box in the mail a few weeks ago.
It was one of those parcels that inspires wonder. It had few external details–no familiar jaunty arrow from Amazon. No packing slip. My mind immediately wandered to that scene from the movie “A Christmas Story” when a similar mysterious box arrived with the “major prize.” In that case, it was a lamp.
When I finally opened the box, I found something so much better than a lamp. The box contained a relic from our family’s heritage – an original hanger from my grandmother Rose’s store Los Angeles boutique, “Pin-Up Togs.” It was hand-dated “September ‘47” in my grandmother’s familiar handwriting. It had been given to my father when his mother died, and had now come home to me with my father’s passing.
Why would someone in 2020 care about a 73-year-old hanger? Why would a woman keep it for so long? Why date it? And why pass it on from generation to generation?
The hanger says so much to me about the legacy of women in my family. And the men who learn from and with them.
In the years after World War II, many Armenians–who were already displaced from the genocide–found their way to booming America. Los Angeles was a particularly popular destination for Armenians, a trend that continued through the 1970s and even to today. East Hollywood is still often referred to as “Little Armenia” – it was a starting place for so many displaced immigrants before moving on to more space (and better parking!) in the suburbs of Glendale, Burbank, and Pasadena in the 20th century. My family made a similar trek west, to find community and opportunity. They came to America to express themselves and expand their horizons, far from the threats of war or death. They came to Los Angeles for what it represented in both sunny skies, opportunity, fruit trees in every backyard and a place where people from everywhere could feel they belonged somewhere.
My grandmother knew instinctively that Los Angeles, and the era in which she was living, was about glamor as much as it was about grit. When she opened the doors of her boutique, she called on that same cultural phenomenon that captivated people’s imaginations about Hollywood and the LA area, helping people escape for a moment into the glamour of what they saw on the movie screen. She called on a familiar symbol of that era than the starlets that lined lockers or barracks of so many Gis – the “pin-up.” She called on the aura of “pin-ups” like Betty Grable, Rita Hayworth, or Marlene Detriech to help launch a little shop where she sold dresses, hats, accessories and the dreams that went along with them. This was more than just a fledgling clothing enterprise for Rose. Now that these women were back from war – it was time to dress them for their newfound lives, including careers. They had proven they could power the country in factories and offices, and Rose wanted to help dress them for the new era that would help them shape the future of the country.
Those years of American prosperity after the war were prosperous for everyone, including female entrepreneurs. It is estimated that from 1945 to 1950–five short years–the number of women-owned businesses went from 600,000 to one million. Nearly double. Women were increasingly trading in their dance cards for business cards, and my grandmother was not going to miss out. While their numbers were on the rise, the impediments to their success were real.
It is important to note that Rose did not make this happen alone. Behind her was an army of people who bought into her dream and her contagious enthusiasm. She had the support of my grandfather, who believed in her and supported her endeavor. She had a network of sisters and friends. And, unable to count on the banks–a part of the immigrant story in American familiar to even this day–she relied on the tight knit community of her own “Little Armenia” to help fund her start-up.
Is there any particular significance to my grandmother opening a clothing store? I don’t know for sure. An armchair psychologist might point out that how you dress is a key part of culture. And, how one dresses is also a key part of fitting in–something that is always on the mind of any immigrant. Or any group of people working to forge progress in a society.
Of course, I suspect that, in the 1940’s, there was a much sharper delineation regarding which lines of work were most hospitable to women. They made the clothes in the garment districts of America. They wore them on the screen. Why not sell them, too?
Thankfully, there has been some progress since then. We just concluded Women’s Small Business Month in October in America. Today, there are 10 million women-owned businesses in the U.S., and they hold tremendous value, generating $1.4 trillion in revenue and employing 8.4 million people, according to the National Women’s Business Council (NWBC).
Of course, it is not enough progress. There are still many more male-owned businesses, likely for some of the same reasons that my grandmother encountered in 1947. But women-owned businesses are skyrocketing forward, increasing in number by 58% from 2007 to today. Hello Alice, a small business incubator and funder matching platform, has helped educate me about the reality of how hard it can still be for these women to get fair access to funding. I learned through that women-owned businesses receive fewer than 20 percent of the popular small business loans made possible by the Small Business Administration.[1] But communities are coming together to support each other and change that reality.
I would suggest that we all need to be more like Rose’s community. More like the people who wanted to see her get those first hangers filled with merchandise in her store in Los Angeles. I hope to be more like my grandfather, nurturing and supporting female entrepreneurship. In this way, we will infuse our business community with new creativity, vital energy, and bring our business community closer to equity for women–the ripple effects of which would have significant positive impact across many facets of modern life.
But, for now, back to the hanger. In the end, I would say I did get the “big prize.” While this hanger carries a market value of about negative five cents, I do believe objects carry life in them. They tell stories.
This hanger tells the story of Armenian immigrants, brutalized and scattered across the world in the first half of the last century. It also gives off echoes that ricochet around the world today as Armenia is once again mired in an ethnic conflict.
It is also tells the story of the indomitable human strength to pick up and start again. One woman, standing in a new business maybe just before opening the doors for the first time, ponders a thousand possible futures stretching out in front of her. How would a woman today commemorate this moment, this little business on which she was hanging the dreams and fortunes of her, her little family, her husband, sisters and friends?
I hope she autographs that first hanger. And saves it for her grandchildren. They will need her example.
[1] https://onthedotwoman.com/woman/elizabeth-gore-and-carolyn-rodz
