The journey to find my bespoke suit — Part IV

The journey finding my bespoke suit is a long one. You can read all three previous parts here: Part I, Part II, Part III.

I was envi­sioning the way my bespoke suit would look. It would hope­fully turn out to be an elegant and flat­tering suit. After all, I did spend many a pretty penny on the outfit. Being one with an eye for the details, I knew that I would have to remain consistent in that image. A bespoke suit deserves shoes that are consistent with it’s high quality. Also being one who prefers a one stop shop, I figured that I would order a pair of bespoke shoes from the same place I ordered my bespoke suit, at Michael Andrews Bespoke.

I emailed them inquiring about the avail­ability of one style that liked. I thought that it would be nice to have my shoes come in at the same time as my suit: that way I could wear the entire outfit on day one. In the interest of that pref­erence, I thought that I would try to hurry up and schedule an appointment to discuss shoes. Luckily enough, my try-on suit had arrived at the studio.

I once again trekked to the Lower East Side. Having been to 20 Clinton Street once before, I expertly made my way to the studio once again. I rang the bell and glanced around, my eyes skimming the doorway for any surveil­lance cameras. I was buzzed in before I could spot any. Samantha greeted me this time, and by name too. Her hair was decidedly informal, as was her dress. I mentally checked to see if it was Friday, but it was not. Casual Friday could not be the cause of her more casual appearance. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the Labor Day weekend. The same blue basement hallways that led me to the promised land were famil­iarly confusing, so Samantha had to guide me once again. I felt a little sheepish: navi­gation had never been my strong point. Samantha graciously excused my flaw, pawning it off on the fact that it was only my second time there. It surprised me to hear that: I didn’t really expect to be remembered.

Samantha walked me in through the door before going to get my try-on suit. I took my customary seat on the sofa and Marian greeted me by name as well. I felt welcome in a familiar place. Every­thing was the same as it was before, not that I expected anything to change. As it was last the last time I had been there, I waited for a small while. There was a different set of books on the table this time. I ignored them, opting to catch up on some email on my iPhone.

Some moments later, a lean looking fellow came up to me and intro­duced himself as Clark. As I looked up from my phone to shake his hand, I was ever so slightly surprised to see that Clark looked very much like a hipster: shaggy hair that fell in front of his eyes framed his long face, deco­rated with light stubble. A navy blue T-shirt draped over his lanky frame and skinny jeans that hugged his hips. Of course I had no qualms about working with Clark, my only thought being that I didn’t expect to see someone dressed like that to be working at a place like Michael Andrews Bespoke.

Knowing that I had come in to discuss shoes, Clark left me with some leather swatches. I looked over the four different sets. One was comprised entirely of felts, so I simply set that one aside. However, the remaining ones required some deci­phering. One of them were desig­nated as being for belts, while the purpose of the other two sets were unknown. I gave the two unknown sets a thorough looking through.

After what felt like too long, Clark returned. We took a seat at the round table to discuss my shoes. I had some ques­tions about the different leathers. To me, the single most important quality was the ability for the leather to take and hold a shine. I had gone through many a pair of shoes that couldn’t seem to hold on to a nice layer of wax. All my hard work shining the shoe would be fruitless, with the wax simply flaking off.

Pages: 1 2 3