SherlockS, where else?
But she’s not looking for a hat!
“Hi, I couldn’t help but notice your beautiful store. I’m what you would call, a macher, I make things happen,” she says, looking down at her Samsung 10+, “and I see you have a fairly good Instagram page, but not much of a following.”
“Well –” I begin, but a macher isn’t looking for excuses.
“I can make your Instagram grow,” she says excitedly. “I’ve got 35 women who are style leaders in the chareidi world. They come from Jerusalem, Bnai Brak, Ranaana – almost every major city in Israel. And their followers come from Israel and far beyond its border. Let me bring them in, have them try on some hats, and post on Instagram. They love dressing up and their followers follow them into the world of fashion.”
I’m a little taken aback. Chareidi and Fashion are not usually words I’ve heard in the same sentence, especially in a positive sense. Turns out these are religious women who wear hats (and shaitels) and believe they should look good for their husbands, and themselves. Led by their macher, they find the coolest, hottest stores and spend an evening luxuriating and showing off their choices to their followers. They have a combined following of hundreds of thousands, chareidi and not so chareidi women. They have, what the woman in front of me had, class.
“Only one caveat,” the macher says, “no men, except for you, of course.”
“I’m flattered,” I say, finding my voice. “But you know half my store has men’s hats.”
“That’s perfect,” she answers. “Many of these women shop for their husbands. Anyway, these days lots of men’s hat styles seem appropriate for women, in feminine colors, of course.”
“Of course. And we have lots of colors in the store. So, let’s sit down and talk,” I say. “Want a muffin?” I offer. “They’re mehadrin,” I quickly add.
“No, thank you,” she says. “But if we’re going to do the evening right, we need to have it catered, and I’ve got just the person.” she says, smiling and making herself comfortable around our center display table.
“But we need a little something special for the evening, something that the women will enjoy. Any suggestions?”
I think a bit and then it hits me.
“I have the perfect thing. They will love it, and never expect it.”
“What is it?” she asks.
“Why don’t I let you guess,” I answer, with a smile.