By Peter O’Malley & Deborah Mooney
At Allure, we’ve been fitting people since 2003. That simple fact carries more meaning than it might seem. Long before inclusion became a cultural conversation, before terminology guides existed, and before brands competed to signal their values, we were quietly doing the work. A customer would walk in, call, or send a carefully worded email that circled around what they really needed. And we would meet them exactly where they were.
Our earliest experiences with customers whose needs fell outside the traditional norm taught us something fundamental. People are not looking for a political statement. They are looking for a safe room, a knowledgeable associate, and the dignity of being treated like any other customer. We built our approach around privacy, mutual respect, and genuine awareness training for our team.
In the early days, that sometimes meant before- or after-hours appointments with two associates present. Not because we were uncomfortable, but because they were. We understood that and worked with it. Over two decades, the culture has shifted. But the emails still come — 10 to 20 a month — cautiously worded and testing the waters.
Our response has never changed: “This is nothing new. We’ve been working with all people for 23 years. How can we help?”
Recently, Deborah Mooney (they/them), assistant manager of our Madison location, shared with me how deeply our commitment to inclusion resonates.
“The first time I walked into Allure, I felt like an interloper. I was certain that all these efficient, professional women would know immediately that I did not belong.
“Interloper” is as close as I can come to describing my own experience of gender. I remember being five years old and thinking to myself that I was awful at being a girl. I did not move quite right. Femininity often felt forced, like a performance. Gender dysphoria, for me, felt like watching my peers play a complicated game nobody had ever bothered to explain the rules to — and to be frank, they still haven’t.
That feeling did not disappear with time. But education and experience gave me more vocabulary to describe myself and how I move through the world. Parenting my child gave me even more. I knew from a very young age that he was not like other kids, and I waited patiently for him to tell me what that meant for him. Not long after my son came out to me as a transgender man, I found myself saying that if I had been born in his generation, I might have used the term non-binary myself. I will never forget the look on his face when he smiled and said, “And why can’t you do that now?”
There was no magical glow the day I found language for myself. But something did shift — I began to share, and people began to share with me.
It taught me to be brave. So despite that old, familiar fear, I walked into Allure and allowed myself to feel like I belonged. And since then, I have seen the insecurities and vulnerability that connect all of us.
Being in the Allure fitting room with people of all backgrounds and genders has taught me that what each of us wants most is simple: to be told we are okay. That we are beautiful. That we are worthy of feeling good and liking how we look. In that fitting room, each person is equal and valuable.
I begin every single fitting at Allure with two personal rules: be honest with me about what you like and don’t like, and no negative self-talk is allowed. If a bra doesn’t work, it’s because it isn’t right for your body — not because there is something wrong with your body.
One of the first questions I asked about Allure was how they handled trans and gender nonconforming clients. Hearing anything other than “of course they are welcome” would have been an absolute nonstarter for me.
What I found was even better than that. I found an opportunity to hold space for people when they are being brave enough to let me into such an intimate moment. I found that a tiny fitting room can hold an astonishing range of experiences. And I found that being part of the Allure community — a safe, respectful, and gentle space centered on helping people feel good about themselves — has been genuinely healing for me. And I hope that healing gets passed on to others.”
-Deborah Mooney, Allure Madison Assistant Manager
That hope isn’t just personal. It reflects what we see in every fitting room at Allure — courage, acceptance, and the quiet joy of being seen. Deborah’s experience is one example of a shared truth that shapes how we interact with every customer.
What we have learned together is this. Vulnerability in a fitting room is universal. Cisgender women feel it. Men feel it. Non-binary people feel it. The fear of being seen, judged, or misunderstood does not belong to any one group.
What we offer is not just expertise in fit. It is a room where that fear is acknowledged — and set aside.
If you have ever hesitated before reaching out to us, know this. We have heard it before. We are not surprised. We are not uncomfortable. We are just here to help. Come as you are. You truly belong here.
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