Gris: Bow ties fit right in
Bow ties are the twist and shout of men’s fashion statements, an exclamation point for the guy who feels comfortable in his own shirt.
They turn heads and raise eyebrows, sing out for plaid and cheer loudly for polka dots. Beauty is in the tie of the beholder.
“They make people smile,” said Aaron Brown.
In a world of big-box retail stores, Aaron has opened a bow tie shop in an oversized closet. It’s impossible to get lost in tiny Bowfresh. There are no aisles. Aaron can leap from the back of the store before you have time to come inside and adjust your collar.
He had his grand opening Dec. 20 and greeted the new year on New Street. Bowfresh is next to the Roly Poly sandwich shop, in the shadow of the hospital, and across Five Points from the legendary H&H Restaurant.
Aaron believes a bow tie store fits right in, no pun intended.
At 23 years old, he is among the youngest of young entrepreneurs. He grabbed his piece of the bow tie market on Facebook two years ago. Now he’s trying the old-fashioned bricks-and-mortar approach.
In the time it takes to eat a large bowl of soup, Aaron can take a strip of cloth and cut, fold and stitch it into classy, handmade neckwear.
“There is something about a bow tie that reflects the beauty of person,” he said. “I’m not just making a bow tie. When you pick it out, it’s like it was waiting on you. It was meant for you. And I’m going to make sure it lasts a lifetime, so you can give it to your son.”
He has had doctors, lawyers, preachers, and professors pass through the shop. Other walks of life have stopped by out of curiosity. A few weeks ago, a man from New Orleans knocked on the door. He was working on the production crew of the zombie movie being filmed downtown and purchased $60 worth of Macon-made ties.
Aaron carries a few other accessories -- flower lapels, purses and scarf-like bow ties for the ladies. A customer can bring in the fabric of an old shirt or tablecloth, and Aaron will transform it into a “memory” bow tie.
The son of a seamstress and a tailor, Aaron grew up to the hum of a sewing machine.
“My parents wouldn’t let me touch it,” he said. “I would get scrap material or cut-up, old T-shirts and make pillow cases by hand.”
His father, Michael, was a respected tailor in Seattle, Washington, before moving to Georgia.
His mother, Barbara, was taught to sew when she was 8 years old by her grandmother, Mary Troutman. Barbara worked as a seamstress for 30 years, making everything from wedding dresses to choir robes. She sewed military shirts at Gulf Apparel, shirts and blouses at Macon Garment and chair pads and place mats at Barnett Products.
Barbara was in the first graduating class at Southwest High School in 1971 and among the first employees hired at Geico three years later.
So it’s fitting she would join her youngest son in opening what is believed to be the first bow tie specialty shop in the city.
Aaron got his diploma from Westside High School in 2010 and was working at Sears at the Macon Mall before it closed in 2012. Living at home and searching for a job in a tough economy, he told his mother he was going to make a few bow ties and try to sell them on Facebook.
He posted photographs on his personal page, with a clever jingle: “Bows To Match Your Clothes.”
“I was being funny,” he said. “I would make whatever color they wanted for $7. I didn’t think anybody would be interested. The next thing I knew, I was getting orders in my in-box. I said, ‘Oh, my God, they’re buying!’ ’’
It was fun, crazy and unique, but he had no idea how long it would last. Every time he talked about quitting, he would find another payment in his PayPal account.
“I heard about you. You’re the bow tie guy, the little bow tie man,” people would tell him.
Filling online orders was one thing. Making the leap from cottage industry to storefront success was quite another. With neither the capital nor the credit to open his own store, he began to solicit donations and build a patron list.
Soon, Bowfresh had grass roots. Folks donated $5, $10, $20, even $100 to help him get started. A friend presented him with a heavy duty Singer sewing machine.
He moved into the space at 610 New St. that his older brother, Anthony, and Garry Pertillo had co-leased to open a barber shop. Anthony gave him a few suggestions for a name. Among them was “Bat Wings” and “Beau Ties.”
Although “Beau Ties” could be word-played to “Beauties” Aaron settled on “Bowfresh,” creating an emblem design with the “W” in the shape of a bow tie.
The “fresh” has nothing to do with the alpine chef salad next door at Roly Poly.
“I liked the name,” he said. “It just popped. It was clean, crisp and smooth.”
He believes he has found a niche, that there is enough of a market in a city of sharp dressers.
“People come in all the time and say they can’t find the bow ties they want at the mall,” Aaron said. “I went to JC Penney the other day and looked at the bow ties for kids. All they had was red.”
Barbara helps with the sewing orders a couple of days a week. She claims she is no match for Aaron when it comes to making a tie. “I can’t sew them like he can,’’ she said. “He is passionate about it.”
The lights have been on for five weeks now. Aaron has faith -- and what he believes is an omen.
Years ago, when the concrete was poured on the sidewalk out front, someone came along and drew a smiley face and the name “Aaron.”
“I don’t know who it was,” he said. “But I think it might have been a sign.”
This story was originally published January 22, 2015 at 10:20 PM with the headline "Gris: Bow ties fit right in."