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February, 19^1
A rich cattleman in Hawaii, whose ranch is one of the largest in the world, bought 25 saddles at one whack from Porters — this despite the fact that he has his own saddle-makers.
Porters has customers in England, too. One Englishman orders — not sad' dies nor nobby dude sportswear — but long flannel underwear.
Natives of Nigeria, in British West Africa, send in for Porter catalogues, just to look at the cowboy pictures. A one-legged cowboy in Colorado hajs placed a standing order at Porters — for the name of any other one-legged customer so he can strike up a correspondence. Inmates of penitentiaries place orders for merchandise to be held until they get out of stir.
OF late years Porters has grown to a truly big business, running the gamut of posh Western sportswear for the fashionable lady dude as well as that of cowboy accoutrements. But, even as in the more leisurely days of the old West, the atmosphere of the stores seems still to say, "Let's set a spell, pardner. Nobody ain't in no hurry, nohow."
The salespeople, most of them dressed in cowboy togs and many of them ex-ranchhands and rodeo performers, perch on the counters, dangle their feet and jaw with the customers. Cowpunchers loaf for hours in the saddle department, swapping tall stories.
This easy-going way of doing business has led to startling occurrences. On one occasion the Porter boys were asked if Monty Montana, the famous trick rider, might ride his horse up and down the store aisles to publicize
a rodeo. They said sure, come ahead — anything for a worthy cause.
And there was the time, some years back, when Harold Porter had an eight-piece orchestra composed of store employees. This same Western orchestra still plays for square dances and cattlemen's meetings all over the state. They used to assemble at noon in an open space between the counters and render choice Western hoedown, just for the fun of it.
That's an important thing with Harold, Joe, Bill and Fred Porter, Jr., the grandsons who run the business today. "If anyone can't have fun working here, he might as well not be with us," says Joe Porter.
The Porter fetish for informality is a heritage that has come down through three generations. It started when Newton Porter first set up shop in a 12 -by14 tent in Taylor, Texas.
He discovered that the best way to do business with cowboys was to let them use his saddle tent for a gathering place. What he didn't reckon with, however, when he was launching his business back in 1875, was the fact that the cowboys might also like to use his place for target practice.