THE SUPER SALESMAN.

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20483, 8 December 1934, Page 34 (Supplement)

THE SUPER SALESMAN.

Prospective Customer Charmed. IRRESISTIBLE CHARACTERISTIC. (By NORMA SINCLAIR.) The very second he appeared before me I was intrigued with him, and smiled my sweetest, even when he anounced himself as a gentleman of the road. I have the general dislike of commercial travellers, mainly because they choose such inopportune moments to call. I have bought countless cakes of soap, absolutely guaranteed to give me a Greta Garbo complexion, amazing piles of patent foot-wipers and egg-boilers and reams of writing paper. Sometimes I have bought out of pity, sometimes because the article arrived at the psychological moment, but mostly in selfdefence.

This man was different. He was tall and fair and dynamic, with that hint of assurance that marks the successful man, and his blue eyes twinkled engagingly. Obviously selling to me was only routine work, all his smiles and blandishments part of the day’s toil; but he was so very charming, so absolutely sure of my needing his books, there was no need for him to adopt any other attitude. Notwithstanding his lack .of facial charm, he had all the attributes of a successful salesman; even though he was so ugly, he was fascinating.

I made a few mental notes on his character. On the surface he appeared to be a hard-boiled cynic with funny hallucinations, bordering at times on the genius in his interpretation of human nature. He confessed himself a psychologist, and had very pronounced ideas on life, life’s success and life’s laughter, surprisingly so in that he grinned like a lovable kid. But in every word, -gesture and rction he epitomised just four words —give charm a chance. So many travellers, with goods to sell well worthy of a ready sale, antagonise their customers, either with over-aggressiveness or sheer impudence. They make their goods undesirable by their own lack of charm, and the same thing applied to every individual in public or private life. Give charm a chance. In every walk of life the charming person stands out, as conspicuous and. decorative as a florist’s window in a city street. It may be only in a smile, a friendly gesture, or in a lilting intonation, but whatever it is, wherever it appears, it paves the way to success.

Charm costs nothing, and reaps such amazing dividends. It is more than mere courtesy, so very often performed unconsciously from force of habit. It is that personal touch, designated by no other name than just —charm. Dressing Up the Goods.

Some years ago several British firms held a conference with their salesmen, in an effort to discover why their goods, obviously of better durability, quality and composition, were being superseded by inferior American articles. As an example they cited the homely eggbeater. The British article, made to lust a lifetime, was obviously the better of the two, but the American article, cheap and unreliable though it was, attracted the most attention. It was painted in bright colours, designed to match the modern kitchen and charm the eye of the housewife. More than anything it was a lesson in psychology. Even in everyday, humdrum life, public taste, surfeited with modern synthetic beauty, demands charm. And from the day that British salesmen became conscious of that fact, Empire trade has crept back to its former supremacy. You must give charm a chance.

Study the girls walking up and down the street every day, and note how few possess that elusive quality. A really pretty girl, exquisitely dressed, may pass with only a cursory glance due to her physical attractions. On the other hand, a girl with no pretensions to good looks or sartorial elegance will attract and hold your attention until she is out of sight. You will even remember her, for no particular reason you can elucidate, other than that charm radiated from her. Of late, perhaps a score of travellers have called on me, but only one has sold me anything —-the super salesman who inspired this article. From him I bought a set of books designed to improve my limited intelligence—ten shillings down and the rest to be paid off at my leisure. I strongly suspect that unless I take an immediate vacation to the Thousand Islands and spend a week on each one, he will exercise his charm and I shall become a perpetual buyer. It costs so little to practise charm in your daily life, and the results are so much beyond your wildest expectations, it is worthv of making it your life motto. Everybody has it—it only means studying yourself and giving charm a chance. THE AMATEUR DRESSMAKER. ALTERING A PATTERN. Though teaeliers of dressmaking instruct their pupils to draft patterns, the amateur usually prefers to buy one, and will find it easy to make small alterations in the size. Large ones are inadvisable. To lengthen a skirt, take a strip of thin paper about threequarters of an. inch wider than the length required, place it on a table, and gum the edges. Then cut the pattern in two across the middle, lay the pieces on the strip, press them down, and tidy the sides, keeping them in line with those of the pattern. When the waist is too small-—a -frequent failing—paste a strip of paper on each slanting seam and shape it up from the hip*. In some designs two or three vertical slit* may be made at the top, and stretched apart. The hips are widened by adding a strip to each seam, both slanting and straight, from the top to the hem; if the skirt is in one piece, and the top is shaped, allow a little on the side opposite to the seam. Put a tuck in the middle of the pattern to shorten a *kirt; remove a snip at each seam to make it narLengthen and shorten sleeves as though they were skirts. Often two strips of adhesive tape, added a few inches apart, do for lengthening. Widen sleeves with lengthways strips, near the. middle. Widen blouse front* with stripe half-way between the middle of the front and the underarm seam; to narI row them make a tuck in the pattern. ! It will have been oheerved that the ! number of inches necessary to enlarge ! a part must be divided by the number | of places at which an addition is to be | made, so that all additions are the j same size. For example, if the hips are | to be two inches wider, and there are two seams, four strips, each measuring • half an inch, are added.