marc jacobs The History of CoachSince

The History of Coach

Since founded in 1941, Coach enjoys great popularity and maintains a profit margin several times higher than competitor designer brands. Nevertheless, not everything goes smoothly for the luxury handbag and accessories manufacturer. Although it did a marvelous feat for so many years, in the middle and late 1990s, Coach witnessed a dramatic recession in sales.

Coach was founded in 1941 by 6 artisans under the name Manhattan Leather Bags. One of the company founders was impressed by the design of a baseball glove and it inspired h marc jacobs im to create a handbag with similar attributes. In 1962, Coach hired Bonnie Cashin. Cashin breathed new life into the company. She was considered a pioneer in American sportswear due to her use of industrial hardware and organic materials such as leather, wool and jersey. Riding the success of Cashin’s creations, the company gets to one of the top luxury brands. Although the new items add many fashion elements compared with its previous conservative series, the company still runs in the traditional way.

During 70s and 80s, the market demand for Coach Products greatly exceeded the supply. In 1985, Coach became part of Sara Lee and in 1979, Lew Frankfort, who today serves as Coach’s CEO, joined the c marc jacobs ompany. Frankfort transformed Coach from a little known leather goods manufacturer to a world renowned brand. However, in the middle 90s, because of dramatic changes in working environment, business casual wear was big that time. But Coach still clinged to its outdated goods and did not offer the fashion products, such as leather and fabric bags. As a result, Coach failed to compete with Prada, Gucci and Kate Spade.

Faced with the challenge, Frankfort launched a series of expansions and innovations. He hired the newest designers who breathed new life into the co marc jacobs mpa marc jacobs ny and changed the image of Coach from a sturdy, basic collection of tan, burgundy, black and navy briefcases, to a hip, stylish collection with new colors and styles every season, which greatly attracted a number of young people. Moreover, in the fashion world full of change, Coach put its new product on the market every year. Meanwhile, the company outsourced the manufacture and concentrated on product design and marketing. Therefore, at the end of 90s, Coach sprang up again.

Thereafter, the annual profits have been soaring. In 2006 its sales reached US$2.1. Keeping pace with the times is the key reason why this company shakes off the image of “only my grandmother buys Coach” and successfully survives in the fickle fashion world with soaring profits.

marc jacobs The History of Bethlehem Steel

The History of Bethlehem Steel

While some Bethlehem Steel women did manual labor alongside men like John Wadolny, and some were secretaries like Althea Kulp, others had a role that reflected the company’s urgent need for security. These women carried guns and kept watch for saboteurs.

Ethel Bogunovich of Hellertown, whose mother wouldn’t let her go into Bethlehem during the riotous steel strike of 1941, was working in a security office at the plant two years later. But the feisty 21 year old was eager to try something else. She wanted to be transferred to the outdoor security patrol, a job that would pay her nearly three times her current salary of $60 a month.

On the radio, country singer Al Dexter and later Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters had a song called ”Pistol Packin’ Mama” that shot to No. 1 like a bullet.

Lay that pistol down, babe,

Lay that pistol down.

Pistol packin’ mama,

Lay that pistol down.

The women patrolling the plant liked the sound of it and called themselves the ”pistol packin’ mamas.”

”I worked specifically at the main gate, checking in employees as they came in, checking their lunch bags and making sure they didn’t carry any contraband or anything to that effect,” says Ethel, whose married name is Gasda. The method of checking lunch bags for knives was to flatten the bags like a pancake.

Some security staff searched cars entering the plant for guns or knives. Ethel doesn’t recall the company finding contraband but is certain that the security force was a deterrent to potential saboteurs.

Another duty was to prevent employees from working when they were drunk, which frequently happened on payday. Yet another was patrolling the plant in darkness, a task that Ethel, now 81 and living in Lower Macungie Township, found unpleasant.

”Well, during the night shift, say from 11 o’clock to 7 in the morning, it was rather dull. After all the employees were checked in, we had to do turns walking up and down the carpenter shop. There were lots of rats running up and down. Of course I was afraid of them. But as the elderly gentleman on the police force said, ‘What are you afraid of? You have a gun, a .38. You can shoot them.’ But you were charged 5 cents for each bullet you used.”

Ethel had wanted to become a nurse, but her mother deemed nurses to be ”pot wallopers” who did little more than carry bedpans, and Ethel canceled her job interview at nearby St. Luke’s Hospital. Her mother didn’t approve of Ethel’s job at Bethlehem Steel, either.

”My daughter is a pistol packin’ mama! My daughter!” she exclaimed to friends. ”I’m ashamed to tell anybody what my daughter’s doing.”

Ethel’s father, Frank Bog marc jacobs unovich, a furnace repairman at Bethlehem Steel, was supportive. ”Honey,” he said to his daughter, the fifth of six children. ”You do what you want.”

The flood of women and other wartime steelworkers led to new homes outside south Bethlehe marc jacobs m, north of the Lehigh River, in places such as the sparsely populated area between Bethlehem and Freemansburg. It also prompted property owners, nudged by public officials, to offer rooms and apartments for rent. government encouraged housing conversions. On May 3, 1943, the National Housing Agency for Properties announced it had arranged a lease with two property owners to provide space for war workers, the first of what agency officials hoped would be many more. The next day, Bethlehem’s First National Bank and Trust Co. announced its ”Remodeling for Victory” campaign, reminding property owners that ”idle houses and rooms are slackers in this war.” Owners could get loans to make conversions.

The big mansions of Bethlehem Steel’s founders Robert Sayre’s residence and the house where Robert Linderman and Charles Schwab had lived were divided into rooms and apartments.

But like the company’s earlier luminaries, its chi marc jacobs ef executive during the 1940s lived in a large house and kept a regal presence.

In 1941 and 1942, Eugene Grace’s annual pay was $537,724, the highest in the nation after Hollywood producer Louis B. Mayer, who made $697,048 in 1941. In April 1943, while announcing that The Steel’s first quarter earnings were only slightly higher than those for the same period in 1942, Grace said he was taking a 58.8 percent pay cut. That brought his total compensation for the year to about $221,600.

It was still a princely sum, and Grace was treated like a feudal baron. His comings and goings at the Bethlehem offices on Third Street were a finely orchestrated dance of precision and security.

A Bethlehem Steel police officer was perched on the building’s roof, binoculars in hand. When he spotted Grace’s motorcade, which consisted of Grace’s chauffeur driven car escorted by motorcycle policemen, a signal was buzzed to elevator operators in the headquarters building. The elevator attendants stopped at the nearest floor, and everyone got off and out of sight. The elevators descended to the granite and marble art deco lobby to await Grace’s arri marc jacobs val. Emerging from his car, Grace would make his choice of elevator and ride up by himself.

As a result of rationing, Saucon Valley Country Club caddies had trouble getting to the golf course. Determined to play, Grace would have his chauffeur pick them up and drive them.