Today, we spend hundreds of dollars shopping for the holidays, but things were different in the old bargaining days on the Lower East Side. . . .

Every year before Rosh Hashanah, Mama would assemble the brood and have us try on our clothing so we didn't look like Shlumps (Slobs) and disgrace the family in Shul.

It was always the same problem; my little brother Berel's pants had gaping holes by the knees. Naturally, this meant a new suit!

Our neighborhood had hundreds of clothing stores, but for Mama and Papa, the Lower East Side was the only place to buy a suit.

Let me tell you something! On Stanton Street, you had to take along a Maven who knew goods, style and fit, and most of all -cut the price to the bone.

My Uncle Louie was the "Suit Maven." Papa was the "Coat Maven," and my aunt was the "Dress Maven." And never did they interfere with each other's mavening!

I wondered: how did Uncle Louie become a Suit Maven if he worked in a fruit store? But who was I to ask questions?

We took the train downtown to Stanton Street to Lieberman and Rind, where uncle Louie claimed to get suits below wholesale.

He explained, "Irving grew up with me in Europe. When I come in, he tells his boss I'm a relative, so I get suits at cost."

We were greeted by a chubby smiling man who clutched Uncle Louie's hand warmly and greeted him by turning to the back of the store shouting,

"Chaim! (the tailor) Look who's here."

What a greeting! The tailor emerged and clutched Uncle Louie's hand. "We just got in suits - like gold! Wait!" he called out, "Bring out the suit I told you to put away for my grandson."

Hershel disappeared to the back and came out with a suit. It was the most horrible green color I ever saw. He held it up and beamed, "Is this a suit, or is this a suit? Feel the material- like silk!"

Mama raised her eyebrows and said, "I don't like the color. A green suit for a child?"

The salesman was wounded. He turned to Mama and exclaimed, "Would I sell you a suit like this? Never! I only want to see his size and the fit."

"Come, boychik, put on the jacket - Let's see the size."

He grabbed Berel by the nape of his neck and let him slip into the jacket.

To start with Berel looked like a blimp, but in that green stripe suit - it was too much.

"Stand," the salesman snapped as Berel squirmed. "Stand, sonny boy, and look in the mirror. Stand!" he ordered. He stood back admiringly saying, "Azah yahr auf mir- vee shain!" (I should live another year how nice that looks.)

Mama shrugged, "I don't like the color."

The salesman turned to Uncle Louie- our maven- and softly questioned, "What do you say Louie- is dot ah fit?"

Uncle Louie tugged at the jacket in the back, the sides and at the neck. He stood back like an artist admiring a piece of art. Then he said, "Takeh- the color is nice but the collar doesn't lay good. See if you have another one, maybe in blue?"

The salesman was wounded once more- but the maven had spoken! He soon returned with a dark blue suit.

"Louie, I just took this off the rack, the boss put this away for his son.

Quick, have the child put it on before he comes back."

Uncle Louie assisted the salesman to fit the jacket on Berel. It was sort of like fitting a tent! Berel was no lightweight.

Both men tugged at the suit as Berel kept squirming.

"Stand," ordered the salesman, "stand!"

"I can't, it itches!" Berel replied.

The salesman stepped back with a warm smile, "Is dot ah suit- like it was made for him! Dot material is imported worsted!"

We didn't know what 'worsted' meant but figured it had to be good or else he wouldn't mention it!

"How's dot for ah color? Navy blue with a blue stripe! Dot's ah banker's suit!" He leaned over to Mama and whispered, "Listen, if you like it let me take it off the child before my boss comes back. He put this suit away for his own son!"

Mama looked at Papa, and Papa looked at Uncle Louie for a sign. Uncle Louie, grabbed the collar, tugged at the seat, and pulled the lapels.

"Takeh! -ah perfect fit!"

Uncle Louie leaned over and asked, "Nu, How much for the suit?

The salesman smiled warmly, "Listen, Louie, for you I'm giving it away, twenty-five dollars, but you must do the alterations!"

Mama and Papa shook their heads. Louie turned to the salesman and snapped,

"Me you ask twenty-five dollars– like I'm off the street?"

The salesman held his hands prayer-like and looked upwards. "Listen, I'll give up my commission; OK, twenty dollars. I'll wrap it up."

Uncle Louie looked at him and snapped, "You want to lose me as a friend? Twenty dollars for this rag? To tell the truth, I wouldn't let the child wear dot suit in shul. It's an abomination! Not a cent more than fifteen dollars."

The salesman almost began to cry. "I swear on my wife's grave that this suit cost Moe nineteen dollars. I saw the bill."

"Not a penny more than sixteen will I pay," Louie snapped indignantly.

"Listen-I'll have to put it back on the rack. As it is, I'm risking my job. Moe was going to charge his own brother twenty dollars for dot suit."

Uncle Louie threw the jacket to the counter, snapping, "If dot's what you tink of me, keep it. De suit isn't worth a nickel more than seventeen."

"Make it seventeen-fifty," the salesman pleaded.

Mama nodded and the salesman quickly grabbed the suit and put it in a box, with a big smile. "It's a pleasure to do business with you." Then he turned to Louie and exclaimed, "Stop in more often- it's a pleasure talking to you. Zeit Gezunt!" (Be healthy). He gave Mama the package and Papa paid him.

When we got home, Papa had to make the cuffs, adjust the jacket and take in the pants. It was a beautiful suit, but few people paid attention to it.

The hole in the knees of his pants Berel got two minutes after wearing it distracted them!