On stitching a suit

Having a suit stitched has always been pretty straightforward. You pay a visit  to your  tailor - You take the material with you – the  tailor measures the material, then measures you , asks you a few questions about what your preferences are – calls you for a trial after about two weeks and a few days later you get the suit on a hangar and in a case . You pay – both smile and you walk out.

Not so today. Making a suit has taken on a very new dimension &   you are tested in innumerable ways.

Getting a well-fitting suit is in reality, an essential rite of passage for every man to go through, but these days it can get overwhelming with so many options and styles to choose from.

A well-fitted suit made of good material   makes a man feel ready to take on the world. An ill-fitting one and you end up looking more like Beetlejuice than Bond!

For years, I attired myself in good readymade suits that looked and fitted fine, until I met a friend in the UAE who raved about bespoke suits. Readymade suits were supposedly anathema to him, so he talked me in going down the bespoke road and there begins my story.

It was a Saturday morning and so this ‘bespoke person’ and I drove down to a large mall in the city where the shop was located. Throughout the journey, which lasted about fifteen minutes I was briefed about fabric, cut, fall, lining, buttons, lapels and the like. By the time we got to the shop, I too was an authority on suits – or so I imagined.

Pushing open the opaque glass door, we walked in. A young man in a black suit ushered us into an inner sanctorum where we sat down on a plush Curvilinear sofa & began (I do not know why) talking in whispers. Possibly the dim lights, the soft, plush cushions, the rather opulent room, the scent of jasmine and the soft music wafting through the heavy silk curtains had that effect on us.  In the adjoining room, which was on a split level we heard laughter and friendly banter.  

The young man followed us in and picking up a tray from a hand-carved French looking table, he offered us cold watermelon juice. On the 56 inch Television, the stock market was being discussed and I thought that rather strange for a tailoring shop!

A few minutes’ later two things happened simultaneously – a very jovial, rotund bald man passed us , smiled and went out and another very handsome looking man walked toward us.

By his demeanor, I gathered that he was obviously the owner. He was well built, of medium height, had a drooping moustache, slick black hair, was dressed in white and wore suspenders. I have to say he gave me a bit of a complex right away. He was friendly to the point of being irritating but a terrific salesperson.

 For the next twenty minutes or so, we discussed suits, fabric, styles etc . By then I was inclined to believe that this was some sort of a fraud but I had already spent almost half an hour in the shop, drunk the watermelon juice and engaged him in friendly conversation so I felt bad to walk away.

We looked at innumerable fabrics and had them draped over my shoulder while he dwelled at length on the quality, colour , texture , weight and about them being breathable .

Words like ruched , slubby,  fluted , threadbare , uncrushable , unforgiving , fibrous and hand knitted were also bandied around and by then my head was spinning .

  I finally settled on a light wool navy.  He also showed me cotton, linen and luxury fibers like cashmere, vicuña, and mohair!

I think that is what he said they were but I could be wrong.

We then entered the inner room – it was carpeted and in the center was a sort of circular pedestal a foot off the floor. There were two leather sofas, two focus lights and a row of about fifty suits on a rack on one side of the room.

The Master tailor was then summoned. He was an old, experienced looking man and looked like he knew his job. However, his beady eyes did not do much for his personality.  

Taking a suit off the rack, he asked me to go into the trial room and put it on. I was then asked to get on to the pedestal and the lights were focused on me. The master then took various measurements and marked this trial suit with blue and white chalk. He then used pins and tucked the material in all over all the while talking to himself, that too with a pin between his teeth. He seemed to know what he was doing and his fingers moved deftly.

 He took some more measurements until there were no more areas to measure. After taking about twenty measurements, he rattled them off while the owner made notes in a leather bound register. Breathing a sigh of relief I was about to get off the pedestal when the owner extracted a mobile camera from a small shelf behind him and took about 15 pictures of me in the suit, from various angles. It was then over – or so I thought.

The four of us then went back to the outer room and a few books were laid out on the table. I was then helped while choosing the actual cut, the colour and texture of the lining and the number of buttons on the suit front and sleeves. 

The whole operation lasted approximately 2 hours and at the end of it I was pretty drained and exhausted.

 I finally picked up the finished suit a few weeks later. It was okay but nothing much  to write home about - and yes, you guessed it right – I have moved over to bespoke suits but have found another tailor!

The gentleman who introduced me to ‘bespoke suits ‘and I are still good friends!

 

Michael Guzder