On the occasion of their big move from one corner of Orchard and Delancey to the other, Moscot invited me to spend some time touring the shop and talking with the owner... In the optical store that his great-grandfather, grandfather, and...
On the occasion of their big move from one corner of Orchard and Delancey to the other, Moscot invited me to spend some time touring the shop and talking with the owner... In the optical store that his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father ran throughout the 20th century, fourth-generation owner Dr. Harvey Moscot recalls being put to work at six years old. His job was to install screws into eyeglass frames. He quotes his father, saying, “I’m a graduate of DelChard University,” DelChard referring to the corner of Delancey and Orchard Streets.After standing on the northeast corner of those streets for the past 77 years, its giant Eckleburgian spectacles keeping watch over the Lower East Side, the great Sol Moscot is moving. It won’t be the first time. Birthed from a moveable pushcart, they went brick and mortar on Rivington Street in 1915, later moved to 119 Orchard, then to their current spot in 1936. After this next move, they’ll still be on the corner of Orchard and Delancey, just not this corner. This corner is being demolished to make room for a 13-story condo tower.“I learned this street when it was a tough neighborhood,” Moscot says. “Back when people from the methadone clinic nearby would come up to the get their eyes examined. Back in the Starsky and Hutch days when we’d jump across the counter to chase after people who lifted frames.”The neighborhood has changed dramatically since then, and more so in recent years. Once a pedestrian mall crammed with bargain shoppers and merchants hawking cut-rate wares, Orchard Street is becoming a high-end destination for art collectors, foodies, and well-heeled consumers seeking designer boutiques. Luxury condos are rising left and right. If scruffy rockers like Bob Dylan and Jerry Garcia used to shop at Moscot, now it’s Johnny Depp and Kanye West. But Harvey doesn’t like to name drop. “Every customer is equal to a celebrity here,” he says. “We treat everyone the same.”Customers flow in and out, some old, some new. An elderly African-American woman pushing a shopping cart is greeted by her first name. A pair of European hipsters in straw boater hats browse the frames. When photographer and hipster icon Terry Richardson enters the store with an entourage of cameramen, there’s a murmur of curiosity. He’s trying on the Terry, the oversized frames that bear his name and signature style. But on closer inspection, it isn’t Terry Richardson at all. It’s an Italian look-alike who calls himself “Fake Terry Richardson.” Fake Terry puts on the Terry frames and poses with a photo of real Terry, also in the Terry frames. You get the feeling that things like this happen every day at Moscot.While many customers have been coming to the store for generations, young people have seized on Moscot as a way to enhance their style.Harvey explains, “The younger generation appreciates a 100-year-old business. We’re not virtual. We’re authentic. To be real is an asset. People want something with a true history that’s not conjured up by venture capitalists with a shelf-life of five years. People long for the real thing. It gives them a sense of security in an insecure world.”Many of Moscot’s frames are archival, made from the original designs. They also have real rivets and true hinges. Harvey inspects a non-Moscot frame. “See these here,” he says, pointing to the chrome dots at the end pieces of the non-Moscot, “these are just decorative. They have no function. They’re not real rivets. See? They don’t connect to anything.” He pulls the Lemtosh from his own face, and says with excitement and pride, “Now look at this. This is a real rivet. It’s connected to the hinge. It’s not just decoration, it has a purpose.”Harvey’s passion for rivets and hinges goes back to his boyhood days of installing screws, watching the older men conduct business. “I had the privilege of working with Sol Moscot on Saturdays and Sundays. He loved to adjust frames and remind people to come back for tune-ups. Even after the sa