There’s been a death in the family. It’s a place, a shopping mecca, the holy grail of designer discounts, with gang dressing rooms and helpful sales ladies. The deceased, which I speak of, was about an hour from where I grew up, and I frequented it from the time I was a baby. Oh Loehmann’s, my mother must be holding a funeral for you in heaven.
There weren’t a lot of great stores to shop at in my tiny little town. And while she didn’t have a lavish budget, my mother loved fashion and she LOVED to shop. She’d only worked at two jobs before she married my dad. One was as a pollster at Harris Polls and the other was as a sales girl at The Princess Dress Shop. With size 38 double D’s on top and a tummy, but a barely there butt, thin arms and legs, my mom was a tough fit. And she had a discerning eye. The Norwalk Loehmann’s was one of the first off-price stores and my mom was its most devoted shopper. Family legend has it that I was taken there as a baby and cuddled by the saleswomen while my mother wiggled herself into one designer label after another. But understand, she was no narcissist, every shopping trip was one of hope: hope that something pretty would fit that chest of hers, hope that she could afford it, hope that she could hide it from my dad.
The shopping travels to Loehmann’s were epic. Often, we went with a car full of relatives. My Aunt Josie would pack food, as going without sustenance during the hour trip might kill us. The truth is she cracked the boiled eggs open before we ever left the driveway. When I grew up some, I dreaded the trip to Loehmann’s. I dragged my five and six and seven and eight year old self around the store, boredom making me lethargic and whiney. But when I got older and could fit myself into the clothes, Loehmann’s was where I ALWAYS wanted to go. My mom and I would climb into the car filled with jittery anticipation and giddy excitement just imagining what kind of bargains we might bag. I always did well there, often coming home with loads of clothes. In college, this was an especially great treat, since my mom would foot the bill. We often headed to Westport for lunch afterward, or to Stew Leonards to grocery shop. It was always fun and always a special time for us to be together. Yeah, we were the original shopping buddies. We had laser focus and a dictionary of designer names in our heads. We knew how to navigate that place like a GPS navigates directions.
My mom so believed in Loehmann’s that when she inherited some money, she invested in the store. And she did well with that stock (and we did our part). After I went to college and the beloved State Fair in the next town became a mall, we got our own Loehmann’s, which was never quite as bountiful as the original. By then Marshall’s was in full swing and discount shopping was well on its way to becoming more common. I stopped going to Loehmann’s once I lived in Boston, because there wan’t one. I changed my allegiance to the original Filene’s Basement and applied all I’d learned about bargain shopping from my mom.
The last I was at Loehmann’s was about five years ago. I saw it out in Natick and decided to stop in, after not having been there in a good 15 years. While the quality had gone down, I did manage to find myself a really great navy Marc Jacobs blazer that I still wear. I’ll hold onto it, just as I have held onto the $50 silver rectangle gift certificate that my mom gave to me in my Christmas stocking, more than two decades ago, and never used. Both the items remind me of a time that’s passed, my mom, who’s gone, and a childhood filled with bargain hunting, with a lady I miss everyday. Bye bye, Loehmann’s, thanks for all those memories, not to mention all those great clothes.
*the gratitude-a-thon 