Defense in Depth

Manhattan's huge Gimbels department store had big news and bought big ads to tell it: GIMBELS HAS NYLONS. Gimbels had 26,000 pairs--a tantalizing drop in the bucket in the face of the public's raging thirst. So, said Gimbels' ad: "Don't think we want to run this advertisement. . . . Come if you must. [But] we've taken this large space to point out how uncomfortable you will be. . .

"Don't be upset if some gentlewoman barks your shins, tickles your tibia, or thwacks your fibula. Don't come at all unless your strength is as the strength of ten because your heart is pure. Don't ask for a special price . . . don't ask for a brand . . . take what you can get and be happy. ..."

Most U.S. retail merchants would rather unwrap a beefsteak in a lion's cage than display nylons openly, let alone advertise them. The few who have tried have repented almost immediately--once in Chicago a horde of irritable females chased a proprietor out a fire escape when his supply of nylons was gone.

Not Words Alone. Gimbels did not rely entirely on the persuasive power of words. The thousands of women who spilled in from street and subway discovered that they had to penetrate a defense in depth.

The sale was held on the fifth floor, but elevators did not stop there. To reach the scene of battle customers had to take slow escalators or ride elevators to the fourth or sixth floor and go on foot from there. When the crowds grew too thick, Gimbels turned the escalators off.

On the fifth floor, combatants were shepherded into a long, wide column. Thirty store detectives patrolled its edges, like cow hands riding herd on the old Chisholm Trail, eyes alert for mavericks. The column wound through vistas of antique furniture and past paintings of cows grazing in sylvan scenes. Once customers sighted the nylon counters, they found themselves in a maze of waist-high fences. To get out they had to make nine turns, pass through ten narrow aisles.

All day long, like a vast peashooter, the mouth of the maze emitted women, one by one. Each emerged with a look of indescribable triumph, trotted to the counter bearing her size, was handed a paper bag containing a pair of stockings, and hurried on. Ten cash registers, each manned by two cashiers, clanged like tocsins. By nightfall 26,000 customers had carried off 26,000 pairs of nylons and not one woman had pulled a pearl-handled revolver from her handbag.

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