I felt like I was stepping back in time as I entered the tailor's shop located off a side lane in the Garment District. The old-fashioned overhead bell jingled announcing my entrance as the door closed gently behind me blocking out the sounds of the snow-covered street on a late Friday afternoon. The shop had an old school feel to it as a wave of warm leather-scented air welcomed me. Without the racks of suits and accessories filling the showroom, you might have thought you had walked into a gentlemen's club from the last century with the store's tasteful lighting, wood paneling, and comfy leather wingback chairs placed around the space. No wonder my Dad liked this place.
At the back of the showroom, I could see a shorter man with a shaved head standing behind a counter serving an older gentleman as he rang up a sale. The man behind the counter glanced up at me through wire rim glasses and smiled under his thick, dark moustache, "Good afternoon sir. I'll be right with you."
Nodding back at the man, I felt out of my element in the posh shop with my faded jeans and tired bomber jacket as I brushed snow off my shoulders. I was also feeling buzzed as fuck having just shared a joint with a gym buddy after our workout before taking the subway to this appointment. I was regretting that decision already. Weed made my big head foggy and my little head horny which was the last thing I needed right now. I was at the tailor's for a suit fitting for my upcoming wedding. My Dad had offered to pay for a custom suit provided I used his tailor. He had one of those jobs where he usually wore a suit to work and he was a longtime customer of Hitchcock & Sons. I remembered my Dad bringing up the topic in our kitchen a few weeks ago, "Nobody fits a suit like Nigel. Trust me, Grace will fall in love with you all over again when she sees you at the altar in a custom suit. This is your big day too and we want you to look your best."
My Mom had nodded beside him and added, "It's true, your Dad always looked so dashing in a suit that it sealed the deal for me. He was and is a good looking man but doubly so in a three piece," as she leaned over and kissed my grinning father on the cheek. Was he blushing?
While my father
was
a sharp dresser, I was hesitant to visit some old time tailor worried that I'd end up
dressed like an old man
for my wedding but I took a leap of faith and accepted my Dad's offer. My father was overjoyed and immediately called Nigel, the tailor at the shop, and booked a fitting appointment at the end of the month. Given I would be away at school until then, my fiancée Grace had previously visited the shop on her own to select a dark plum fabric that would work well with the rest of the wedding party colors, and provided my basic measurements. While I had seen a sample of the fabric she had selected, I was visiting the shop for the first time today to be properly measured and fitted with our wedding scheduled in two weeks. I was a bit nervous about my father and my fiancée making so many decisions on my behalf which I guess was part of the reason I had accepted my friend's offer to toke up. I had hoped it would calm my nerves but so far it wasn't working, I just felt stoned, oh and horny, or hornier to be accurate.
I looked around the store admiring the rich fabrics and colorful selection of silk ties. I imagined there weren't many shops like this left in the city since jeans became acceptable work attire in most offices and
work from home
became a common acronym. The older customer finished paying for his items and walked back towards the entrance, smiling and nodding at me before stepping out of the shop with another ring of the bell over the door. The shorter man finished up behind the counter and walked towards me with a warm smile, "I'm sorry for the wait. How can I help you?"
Feeling foolish, high, and underdressed in my jeans and t-shirt, I responded, "Uh, I'm here for a suit fitting. My name is Henry Taylor."
The man's face lit up immediately, "Ah, Robert Taylor's son. I should have recognized you from your handsome face. A pleasure to meet you Henry," as he reached forward and shook my hand in his surprisingly firm grip clasping our joined hands with his other hand, "My name is Nigel and I'll be fitting you today." While Nigel was barely 5 feet tall and probably in his mid forties, he looked compact and muscular under his suit trousers and vest. He was also wearing a rich silk tie and a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back on his hirsute forearms, and a requisite measuring tape draped around his neck. I could see his biceps bulging through the white fabric of his shirt as he gripped my hand. While his head was shaved, he had a 5 o'clock shadow on his chiseled jaw, and a thick luxurious dark moustache below his bespectacled twinkling eyes. Not surprising for a tailor named Nigel, I detected an English accent. "I've known your father since he was your age, such a wonderful man. Come in, come in," as he finally released my hand and guided me deeper into the store.
Turning his head back to me as we walked, Nigel continued, "Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. I met your fiancée last week when she was in selecting material for your suit. She's a lovely young lady and the two of you will make a handsome couple." I blushed at the praise the sturdy little tailor was throwing my way as he guided me towards the fitting room with his hand on my shoulder. "Oh wait, let me put up the closed sign before we head back. I'm on my own tonight but it's a quiet night with the snow so no one should mind if we close a few minutes early. There's usually another person working but they're off sick."
I nodded stupidly as Nigel walked back to the door, flipped the sign to 'Closed' and locked the door. "Excellent, now we won't be disturbed. Let's head back to the fitting room and get started. I need to confirm your measurements and try on the partially made suit for fit." Turning to me, he whispered in a conspiratorial tone,"I think it's going to be a beautiful garment." Nigel's impish face glowed as he talked passionately about my suit. Obviously, he enjoyed what he did. For a man with a diminutive stature, there was something uber masculine and commanding about Nigel. I'd noticed he had legs more suitable to a wrestler than a tailor when he had walked to the door and back.
Trying to not to appear stoned, I responded, "I'm looking forward to seeing the suit. I grew up listening to stories about Hitchcock & Sons and what useful advice or funny stories you shared with my Dad. He swore by your suits and loved the compliments he always received when wearing one. When I needed a suit for my wedding, my Dad gave me no other option than Hitchcock & Sons."
"That is so kind and humbling to hear and thank you for trusting us with your big day. Please say hello to your father. I've always enjoyed his visits and it's been far too long. Come, come... let's get started," as Nigel rested his big hand on the back of my neck and guided me towards the large fitting room behind the counter, while flipping off a bank of switches on the wall lowering the lights in the front showroom. I was getting the feeling that Nigel was a pretty handsy fellow but then such is the nature of a tailor I was guessing.
The fitting room was hidden from the street and similar to the front of the store with it's old English warmth and charm. It also had wood paneling with thick carpeting, and several mirrors spread around the perimeter of the space with a raised platform on one end in front of three larger mirrors. There were two leather club chairs placed on the floor and two small curtained change rooms at the back of the space.
"Before we begin Henry, can I get you anything? Coffee, water... brandy?" Impressed with the full service treatment, I politely asked for water.
"Water?" he looked at me questioningly, "Are you sure? Being fitted for your wedding suit is a special occasion and worthy of a decent brandy. Besides, it's the end of a snowy day and I might just join you if you do," as he grinned and winked. There was something very impish about Nigel.
