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Since birds drop more than feathers, a business
is born FlightSuit diapers take care of pets' 'poop problem'
Carla Thornton
Saturday, November 29, 2003
San Francisco Chronicle
Mark and Lorraine Moore, a career Navy couple, were being transferred again,
this time 2,600 miles away to Virginia. And this time they had two parakeets,
two cockatiels, a conure and a cockatoo to load in the minivan along with
their two kids.
They hated the idea of their pets being cooped up the entire
trip. "We wanted to take them out in the car and at friends' houses so we
could show them off," said Lorraine. "But birds poop every 15 minutes."
And that is how bird diapers were born.
With the help of a seamstress friend,
Lorraine made skivvies for all six of her birds. They had openings to accommodate
legs, wings and the tail and a Velcro fastener. The key feature: an elongated
"poop pouch," which caught droppings for as long as four hours. To fine-tune
the designs, the Moores visited local pet stores to measure additional bird
tushes. When other bird owners began asking about the diapers, the lightbulb
came on.
"We knew it was a great solution for us. Then we thought maybe
this would work for other people, too," says Lorraine.
The Moores formed
a company, Avian Fashions, and premiered their patented didees, called FlightSuits,
at www.flightquarters.com on New Year's Day 1997.
The stretchy Lycra suits
come in sizes to fit every avian figure, from petite for parakeets to "colossal"
for plus-size parrots. Pampering a bird of average size costs $30, including
the suit, disposable liners, a leash and shipping.
Initially, the Moores
ran Avian Fashions out of their 1,100-square-foot apartment on a military
base. In 1998, they traded up to a 4,000-square-foot home in nearby Stafford,
Va. Last year they retired from the Navy to run their enterprise full time.
No bird brains when it comes to growing a parrot diaper business, they have
introduced FlightSuits in 10 additional colors and fleece-lined for cold
weather. Costumes -- Santa Claus, bunny and turkey suits among others --
now make up 30 percent of sales. Knitted monogrammed sweaters appeal to
the preppie bird. Any day now, Avian Fashions will pass the $1 million mark.
"We won't stop until we make the world safe from bird poop," declares Mark,
a Hayward native who credits his big brother, Rob, for setting an early
example in strange business ventures. A young Rob ran lemonade stands for
funeral services. Now he's president of a data-processing company in San
Jose. Mark realizes that his own career path has done a reverse commute.
"They all think I'm a bit flighty," he quips.
Perhaps stating the obvious,
Lorraine says FlightSuits work best with tame birds. Younger birds also
tend to be more accepting of wearing clothes.
Vicky Foppiano of San Francisco
has given up trying to wrestle her 3-year- old blue-and-gold macaw, Scooter,
into a diaper. "It's a great idea. I guess we should have worked with her
more," she says, sighing.
The suit spooked Scooter the first time she wore
it. Now she screams whenever she sees the tropical print. "Awwww! Awwww!"
says Foppiano, doing a serviceable imitation of a large parrot in distress.
"That's what she does. Would you like me to send you her diaper?"
Art Mechaevich
of Livermore has had better luck with his two green- cheeked conures. Romeo
and Juliet first wore FlightSuits when they were just 6 weeks old and now
love dressing up. "They know they're going outside," said Mechaevich, who
takes the small green birds shopping with him at Wal-Mart.
Suited birds
get out of the cage more, agrees Lorraine Moore. They go to church, on bike
rides, walking the dog, picking up the kids from school.
That makes her
feel good.
"It never gets old getting an e-mail from someone who says, 'I've
always wanted a bird but couldn't because of the mess,' and know our FlightSuit
is going to make their dream come true."
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