‘thirtysomething’ Fits Shoe-Design Couple
Sam & Libby, shoe designers.
Any similarity to that other husband-and-wife footwear team?
Not really, say Sam and Libby Edelman. Their collection, which was launched at Robinson’s, is “affordable” and made primarily in Brazil. It retails for $25 to $40, while a typical Joan & David style, made in Italy, fetches $150.
But Joan and David Helpern are “family friends of Sam’s,” Libby says.
Met in New York
Libby met Sam in New York when he was working for Lighthouse, his parent’s shoe company. She was an editor at Seventeen magazine. Covering the footwear market at the time, she decided to check out the Edelman’s “crazy offices,” where chili dogs and an open bar were part of the tradition.
They married and stayed in New York, but when Esprit offered them both jobs in 1983, they “moved to California and had a baby all in one month,” beams Sam, who was president of Esprit’s shoe division for five years.
After a friendly exit from the company last year, the couple went into business for themselves, setting up shop in San Carlos, Calif., and linking up with a design studio in Milan. Their first collection is all girlish flats, frequently trimmed with bows, buttons or T-straps. Pride and joy of 25 spring styles is a ballet slipper made in huaraches- weave leather.
The fall line turns more sophisticated. There will be boots and what Sam calls sexy high heels. The ultimate goal is success along the lines of the couple’s “sweater boot” for Esprit: 700,000 pairs of the leather high-tops, trimmed with sweater ribbing, have been sold, Edelman says.
Gentle Persuasion
The ad campaign for the Sam & Libby line is based on gentle persuasion: no shoes--just captivating, upbeat photographs of Sam, Libby and their two tots.
“It’s ‘thirtysomething,’ ” boasts Sam, 36, referring to the concept and the similarity he sees to the television show. The response to the ads, seen so far in trade magazines, has been “emotional,” claims Libby, 34. “People immediately see we’re a working couple, we have a family. I think we typify what’s happening.”
Their product is aimed at women who don’t want to spend a fortune on fashion. Consumers, especially those who are 30 something, have other places to spend their money--”food, a home, sending their children to a better nursery school,” Sam says.
He was wearing pricey moccasins by Stephane Kelian and sportswear from “a little store in Florence,” but the couple cuts back elsewhere: “We haven’t been to an expensive restaurant in years. It’s just not Libby and me.”
They entertain clients in their Woodside, Calif., home and bring everyone into the act: “Our children have told store presidents jokes and some embarrassing things,” Sam notes. The family’s four horses have done their bit too: “I’ve gotten our biggest orders,” Sam says, “after taking buyers riding.”
Their life might sound glamorous, but “we usually work until 10 at night,” Sam points out. “That means Libby goes home, plays with the kids and comes back. We call ourselves ‘microwave parents,’ because these days, if you’re a working couple with a family and you want to spend quality time with them, you better know how to use a microwave.”
As a young couple faced with growing pains, “we sometimes joke we have Murphy (of Murphy’s Law) living with us,” Libby says. When everything seemed to go wrong recently, Sam called a staff meeting to review the day’s positive events.
The good news: Dayton-Hudson ordered shoes for all 34 stores. Nordstrom made “a large commitment. . . . And we learned how to work our computer.”
