Why alligator? "I respect the power of the animal--my spirit leads me to it--but I would not want to see them killed, I'm too sensitive for that. I hate to see anything in pain." And so the dual personality of the man is revealed. "Never compromise what you believe in--you'll never get what you want," says George Sharoubim, who uses over 3,000 farm-raised alligator skins per year to inventory his Palm Beach shoe and apparel stores. "I have $35 million in inventory and don't owe a penny to anyone. I can't stand to owe anyone money." Sharoubim is both businessman and philosopher. Both schools of thought combine to create a success story that continues to unfold, as he plans the Taj Mahal of alligator stores, Giorgio's of Palm Beach Couture. From a single boutique on Royal Poinciana Way, to the ongoing growth of the Palm Beach salons, for nearly 15 years, Sharoubim has poured his heart, his soul, and his money into satisfying the tastes of the world's most quality conscious and wealthy consumers. "I would not be here if it were not for the educated consumers who visit my store, who know the difference. I wasn't rich--customers made me successful because they keep wanting to give me money for the special things I create. From Bill Gates to George Sharoubim, we are all here because of the consumer," he emphatically states.

Raised in Egypt, in a family of agricultural businessmen, Sharoubim came to the U.S. in 1972 to pursue his own business interests, with a mere $5 in his pocket. Sheer hustle and schooling from Queens College landed him a job with San Remo shoes as the southeast sales rep, and when the owner of the company found himself in financial straits, a sales team of Sharoubim and colleagues were in the right place at the right time, taking charge, changing the face and name of the company. "I kept trying to get them in new markets. They were focused on the majors, and with department stores, you're only as good as your last season. I always wanted to prepare for the future and support the independents--they need a fresh look at all times in styling--and now, there are more independents than department stores!" Sharoubim explains.

He and his partners then formed Giorgio Bruni, a play on two of their first names, but they kept being confused with Giorgio Brutini, so they changed the name to Mario Bruni after a brother's name. "We always clashed," Sharoubim continues, "They wanted black and brown slip-ons, lace ups and maybe a cordovan. They thought that was all department stores would buy. I wanted to be more ‘with it,' and worked with the factory to design new styling, more fashionable, low vamps, new materials, colors, even two-tones--and for men, in the 80's, there weren't many people doing that--only Baker Benji and Sandro Mascoloni--they were the hottest companies for fashion." Mario Bruni moved into fashion and grew from 5,000 pairs of shoes, to 40,000 pairs per season. Accounts from Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom, Saks and Barney's New York, to Clark's, Federated and private label lines, grew the company from $1.7 million to $7.3 million in sales. "The market was hungry for what we introduced," Sharoubim says.

Growing sales could not meld the partners' conflicting personalities, so Sharoubim sold his share and moved on in 1986 to open Giorgio's Fine Shoes, his first retail store in Palm Beach. Beautiful weather and customers were a draw, and the wealthy South Florida audience would appreciate his taste for finer fashion. The Breakers, one of Palm Beach's finest historic hotels, needed to build its retail business, so Giorgio's expanded to second store in the hotel lobby. The hotel was pleased with the success and image of the shoe boutique, and in 1991, they approached Sharoubim with the concept of opening an upscale men's clothing store. "I had never done clothing before, but I said, ‘I will do it!' They loved what I brought and it was very successful," he laughs. The Breakers crowd was then considered older, and in an effort to spruce up the image, the hotel expanded, renovated and requested Sharoubim to open a women's store as well. Again, without experience in women's wear, undaunted, Giorgio's moved forward. When the hotel's construction work was not completed in time for opening, and he had merchandise waiting to fill the store, Sharoubim moved into the Goodman Company's Esplanade, a high-end, Worth Avenue enclosed shopping center, anchored by Saks Fifth Avenue.

When another Worth Avenue space became available, Ashley's by Giorgio was born, extending Sharoubim's couture and shoe empire. Alligator continued to catch on. "I was drawn to skins," he states, "My ego is to improve myself constantly, and the shops became successful so fast."

Next came consolidation--a 4,000 s.f. store in the middle of Worth Avenue that surpassed each of the former boutiques. A neutral awning and simple glass front belie the sumptuous interior, complete with seamless Spanish marble floors, custom hand-made Indian carpets, mahogany hand-carved fixtures and Swarovsky crystal chandeliers, encased in hand-painted domes. If "hand-made" sounds redundant, it is only because Sharoubim's preoccupation with detail will not permit anything less--nor will his discerning customer base. Though he does not flaunt the names of his clientele, their caliber is evident when he describes that a Canadian customer just purchased a $120,000 mahogany and alligator desk, then picked out a few leather jackets for himself to the tune of $90,000, not to mention the bags and shoes he bought for his girl friend.

No wonder Giorgio's caters to his customers both in the store, with an elegant cappuccino bar, lavish powder rooms, complete with marble showers and inlaid mirrors--and out of the store, as he delivers goods in his own truck, providing staff to unpack and set up the furniture.

The furniture is a new addition, while shoes, bags, accessories and couture clothing have been his mainstay. From the depths of his vivid imagination and analytical mind, come library chairs that convert to steps to reach shelves, a compartmentalized desk that becomes a travel trunk, a bird cage modeled after a church in Milan, or a table fitted with perfect miniature shoes on its feet--all in hand-carved mahogany, in-laid with matched alligator skins. Though Giorgio's serves men with Italian cashmere blazers and sweaters, hand-made shirts, suits, and beautiful alligator shoes, luggage, golf bags and brief cases, his adoration for women is evident.

In Giorgio's refined Palm Beach world, unlike in the wild, the female of the species wears the colorful plumage. Alligator in every shade of the rainbow is available, all matched with bags and accessories by dye-lot. "I love colors--like flowers, or fish," Sharoubim enthuses. The spectrum is mind-boggling, from bright green to light violet, and the array of bags ranges from a travel companion with hidden compartments for papers, cosmetics, or an umbrella, to a tiny evening bag that can be worn as a piece of jewelry.

The shoes are simple and classic--several styles of sandals, from a small comfortable heel, to a flat thong, to a ballerina slipper. "Shoes are expensive, they cannot become dated. The styling needs to stay classic, clean and tailored." At $495 for a sandal or $795 for a full-quill ostrich, or $895 for an alligator ballet slipper, durability and could also be a consideration. "But my customer buys alligator like any other leather, " Sharoubim states, "Spending $1,350 to $3,000 for a bag is not an issue. My products are investments and I stand by them for the life of the bag." Most of the bags are lined with alligator and are adorned with detailed gold clasps and interchangeable straps. "The bag must be beautiful inside and out," he explains, "It makes a woman feel special--after all, her life is in this bag!"

More service and pampering for women--and men--is on the way. By November, Sharoubim plans to add an upper level and expand into an adjoining store, to assemble 11,000 s.f. of retail space. "I will cater to lifestyle," he explains, it will be a "homey" store. I will have a chef on property to offer hospitality. Customers can come in and spend the afternoon. If they want veal chop, lamp chop, fish, whatever--we will be prepared." It is hard to imagine the posh surroundings of the current store becoming any more lavish, let alone "cozy" as Sharoubim describes. However, his own warm nature and pleasant staff assistance seem to take the edge off, of what elsewhere feels elitist or stodgy a la Palm Beach standards.

It is also hard to imagine anyone accomplishing the expansion feat within six months, but given Sharoubim's track record at creating the existing Worth Avenue store in the same time frame, a wise bet would be placed on the timely opening, in time for South Florida and holiday seasons of 2000-2001. "It takes will, knowledge and preparation, so people can work around each other," he explains, again, combining philosophy and practicality, "I also ask for a lot of favors to work overtime," he laughs. But again, his compassion comes through. "I always bring the workers trays of food--I have to feel part of them. It's the same when I'm in the factories--construction is one-time, in the factory, it's all the time!" What do subcontractors do when confronted with Sharoubim's perfectionism? (He questions whether he is really a perfectionist, and not really just detail oriented--I reply emphatically that he is definitely a perfectionist!) "When I tell them about the alligator, they can't understand, but when they come here, they cannot believe what they see and the amount of alligator that we sell! My factories try to do me favors to cut corners and save money and I tell them, ‘don't do me favors. The result or doing things right is impressive.'"

And Sharoubim does bring them here, just like he brings in Mexicans to lay the Mexican tile that will adorn his new store front. "They are the best at it," he states, "I will not use fake tile--I will search for as long as it takes to find the right tile, the right column. I see things undeveloped and I will develop them. That is my gift. I am not a doctor or a scientist, I am a worker; I take joy in creating. If I am tired, give me something to do, and I will do it!" he exclaims, energy rising at the suggestion of a new challenge

Sharoubim's creativity does not stop at the retail or even at the designer level. He takes it a step further into architectural engineering, as he describes his shoe inventory system--which could be patented. "I don't need to do that--I am happy to share it. This is a gift to anyone in the shoe business!" he adds flippantly. The storage system that Sharoubim employs in his Worth Avenue salon requires no back room. All shoes are inventoried on shelves, behind his glass and mahogany display fixtures. With a gentle pull, each sectional rolls out, revealing 98 pairs of shoes in boxes per side, all stacked in their own sliding compartment, by style, color and size. The salesperson never has to leave the customer, but simply pulls out the stacks, showing exactly what is available; drawers underneath hold accessories. As he sketches the fixture and shows its advantages, he notes that the system enables him to keep over 1,200 pairs of shoes in stock. Wait until he nearly triples his current store size! "I will have over 1,500 s.f. of just alligator shoes--it will be the largest alligator and ostrich shoe department, with 18-20 colors of each shoe. And I will be going into major fashion. I go to Italy each month--I am designing new shoes, heels--from sexy to fashion, the styling will stay classic. I'll be sure to touch every woman's closet with my shoes!" he delights.

And how does he reach these customers? Not with huge advertising campaigns. You will not see Giorgio's in national magazines. "I am in Palm Beach, states Sharoubim, "I would rather spend $100,000 in an 8-page spread that makes a statement in annual publications like Traditions, [The Breakers magazine]. That way, they get to see you, your company, your product--you make a story. This is not mass production. These people travel--Milan, Paris, New York--when they need something, they now how to get a hold of you!"

And as he creates an alligator-inlaid Steinway piano for "someone like Elton John," Sharoubim glows with accomplishment of his goals, "Do I need to make furniture? No! I do it because I enjoy it! I want to teach the next generation--feed them the knowledge. I would love this to continue. Too many people count their profits. That's why you're in business--you should count your losses. Ask what is the worst case scenario. Ask what you didn't know, what's bad--that's what you can improve." And so the philosopher/businessman strides on to his next appointment--with verve and enthusiasm--and in alligator shoes.