Sunday, October 19, 2014

Part I of III: Birthday Wishes To My Father & How He Fell Into His Profession

Tomorrow is my father's birthday and as I've been thinking about him a lot lately, I decided to write a short series of posts all about his work.  Happy Birthday Daddy!

Chronica Domus
My beaming father at the age of sixteen wearing the first suit he ever made, a double-breasted example, photographed with his two adoring sisters
Photo: Chronica Domus


You've never met my father, but if you've ever seen Rex Harrison in the film My Fair Lady, or have admired or been equally amused at some of Elton John's unique and zany stage suits, or perhaps remember the cover of The Beatles album Abbey Road, you will likely have seen my father's handiwork. Until his retirement a few years ago, my father was a Savile Row tailor.

During his lengthy career, which began as an apprentice at the tender age of sixteen, when he was a mere rakish lad, he has dressed some of the most famous figures in the world. People from all walks of life that have admired and desired the fine cut of a bespoke suit have crossed paths with my father. His jackets have been worn by figures from the world of stage and screen, members of the royal families of Europe and the middle-east, politicians, singers of popular music and classical opera, captains of industry, and untold numbers of ladies and gentlemen whose taste in sartorial elegance includes a finely crafted suit.

Becoming a tailor was something that was quite unplanned for my father, and he was the only member of his immediate family to have pursued a creative career. I believe this is because he is an artist at his very core, someone for whom the smallest and most subtle detail can never escape his critical eye. He has nearly a sixth sense as to how cloth might be manipulated to drape and caress in just the right places, highlighting or even disguising the best or worst features of a person's frame. He can appreciate the construction of a tiny horn button, or the way a pair of scissor blades have been honed to cut just so, and whose weight balances perfectly in the hand. When I was a little girl, I remember him constantly doodling on the silver paper linings found within his packets of Rothmans cigarettes, often little crude designs of lapel styles or theatrical renditions of jackets and blazers.

I recall my father telling the story of how he was so all consumingly bored upon being given the tedious duty of gluing endless fabric samples into books, his sole responsibility at his first job. The operation was based in a multi-storey building somewhere in London, and he found it most amusing to pad out his day by riding the building's only elevator, up and down ad nauseum. Well, his superior soon clocked onto his game when other employees began complaining that the elevator was always jammed and out-of-service. I don't think that job lasted for too much longer.

Next, he managed to be taken under the wing of an experienced tailor as an apprentice, who soon taught him how to cut. My father likes to relay how he ruined Peter Sellers' jacket by cutting the fabric for the sleeves backwards. Poor daddy, he didn't even know his right from his left and there he was being given the heavy responsibility of cutting through costly Holland & Sherry worsteds and wools.  He remembers a swift clip around the ear being delivered with an admonishment to pay attention; measure twice and cut once, and all of that.

By the time his apprenticeship was completed, my father certainly knew his craft competently enough to have made Rex Harrison's suits in the 1964 film My Fair Lady. Examples of traditional English tailoring can be seen through the various tweeds and dinner jackets worn by the actor.

Chronica Domus
If you can get past the fountain spouting out of my father's head, you can see the young author of this blog (right) and her sister (left) enjoying a trip to Trafalgar Square, smartly attired in their first bespoke overcoats made by their talented father
Photo: Chronica Domus


My father eventually moved on to work for the suiting department at Harrods where he made ladies bespoke clothing. Jackets, skirts, and simple shift dresses were very popular items among the fairer sex.  I recall my mother showing me a fabulous shift dress in deep red wool, with a matching cropped and collared jacket adorned with shiny brass buttons that he had made for her around the time he was dressing some of the wealthiest women in London.  Imagine having your very own personal tailor at your disposal.  My mother always looked fabulously elegant at social functions thanks to my father's creations. My sister and I also benefited from his craft. One of my very favorite childhood photographs was snapped in Trafalgar Square where we were taken often to feed the pigeons. Not only do I cherish this photograph because of the happy memories, but also because the little coats my sister and I are wearing were made by my father.  If you look carefully, the very bottom button of our coats remains unfastened not because we were careless at dressing ourselves for our outing, but for the simple fact that my father was a tailor, and tailors have particular ways of doing things. Who knew there was a code of what buttons to fasten and which to leave unbuttoned. Apparently, this was the correct way to wear one's double-breasted coat. Of course, my father also made the heavy overcoat he sports too in the photograph.

Chronica Domus
My favorite photograph of Tommy Nutter, whom I consider to have been one of the 20th century's most elegant dandies


In 1969, one of Savile Row's most colorful characters offered my father a tailoring position. Tommy Nutter was unlike any other tailor on the row. He was flamboyant and larger than life, a gentleman peacock, and a true original.  He completely tore away from the traditional conservative ideal of what a bespoke suit should look like, the type of British cut that had placed Savile Row on the world's map. Thinking about this over forty years later, I can see exactly why my father, a tearaway rebel in his own right, went to work for Mr. Nutter, who was eventually nicknamed The Rebel On The Row, a dandy not seen since the days of Beau Brummell. It was to be a natural fit for my father, and he enjoyed the work there immensely.

Here my father crafted some of the era's wildest and most colorful and innovatively cut suits. Nutters attracted the glitterati of the day unlike any other traditional tailoring firm before it. Suddenly, stars such as Elton John, The Rolling Stones, and The Beatles all wanted to be dressed by Tommy Nutter.

Eventually, Nutters began making ready-to-wear lines and fewer bespoke suits so my father went on to work for various other firms along the row including Edward Sexton, Chittleborough & Morgan, and lastly, Gieves & Hawkes, tailors to the British royals.

Just before his retirement a few years ago, something quite marvelous happened. I shall leave that little story for my next post.

I do hope you'll come back and read the next installment to this series.

21 comments:

  1. How fascinating! Nutter is not a name I have come across, but certainly one I would find hard to forget. I was watching a programme about Royal Warrant holders recently which included a visit by the Prince of Wales to his tailor Anderson & Sheppard, and all the many repairs they had to undertake to some of his favourite suits - clearly not a customer who makes them money, except perhaps by association, (not least of which the "By Appointment to". I was about to post some recently revealed photos of my parents in their youth, which we came across in the recent unearthing of their now cleared house. I think it might pale into insignificance...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello Columnist,

      Yes, I agree Nutter is quite an unforgettable name and as you will learn in the next installment to this series, turned out to be quite an influence on modern tailoring.

      I need to view the program you watched on the Prince's visit to A&S, another name I am very familiar with on the row. I'm not sure if you got a gander at The Prince's grey double-breasted suit that he was heavily ridiculed for wearing to several functions over the last year. It had such an obviously bad patch applied beneath one of the pockets that it really was time to retire the thing. There is such a thing as invisible mending, but this was far from it!

      Delete
    2. Oh, and please do post the newly unearthed photographs of your parents as you had planned. I for one would be interested in learning about them as I believe everyone, no matter who they are, has a story that needs to be told.

      Delete
  2. Happy Birthday to your father! I can imagine the excitement of growing up in a household that contained such creative talent.It must be fun whenever you see one of these natty dressers and think that your father is the one who created their sartorial appearance. I am looking forward to Part Two.
    --Jim

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello Parnassus,

      Yes, although finding needles and pins in the most awkward of places around the house was something that was all too familiar for us, seeing my father's work was very thrilling. Also, as a young girl I learned that certain patterns do not work well if the garments are to be screened on the television, and that colors appear so differently than "in the flesh".

      The most bizarre jacket my father made was for an eccentric who could not decide which fabric from the extensive swatch book to choose, so he asked that all of the swatches be sewn together and made into a suit.


      Delete
  3. Happy Birthday to your dear father.
    Thank you for sharing his story and showing us his creations. You must be so proud. I'll be on pins and needles until the next post. BarbaraG

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello BarbaraG,

      Thanks for the good wishes and your very nice comment. I promise not to keep you waiting too long for the next installment.

      Delete
  4. CD,
    What a wonderful and sweet story. The pictures are priceless. Imagine having such darling little coats made by your daddy.
    Happy Birthday to your dad.
    xo,
    Karen

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello Karen,

      I really enjoyed digging up the two personal photographs I included in this story. It had been a while since viewing them and each time I see the one of my sister and I in Trafalgar Square, it makes me wish we still had those little coats.

      Delete
  5. Hello CD,

    A very Happy Birthday to your father.

    As for his profession - do you hear me gasp? I'm fascinated by the technical aspects of tailoring and couture and follow a number of blogs relating to same (mainly to learn techniques that can be applied to my home sewing projects).

    Have you or your father read a (non-fiction) book called 'The Coat Route: craft, luxury, and obsession on the trail of a $50,000 coat'? Don't be put off by the title - it tells the fascinating history of a unique coat made by Sydney tailor John Cutler. The author is Meg Lukens Noonan. A birthday present perhaps?

    Thank you for sharing this wonderful story. I very much look forward to the next instalment.

    Spud.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello Spud,

      I'm so glad to learn of your keen interest in tailoring and sewing. You would have made the perfect apprentice under my father's guidance.

      I'm sorry to report that my sewing skills are very rudimentary. I can sew a hem and a button, and manage to thread a sewing machine and stitch very basic items, but that is about it.

      The book you reference sounds fascinating and I'd be interested in reading it, thank you.

      You'll enjoy the final installment (there are three) in which I'll show a little of how a special item that was made for me by my father.

      Delete
  6. Loved this!!! That pic of you & sis with your father at Trafalgar is adorable! I always find dandys interesting and liked James Purefoy as Beau Brummell in 'This Charming Man'. I can't wait to read more on your fascinating father and a big Happy Birthday to him!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you GSL for steering me in the direction of Mr. Purefoy's performance of the most famous British dandy that ever lived. Somehow, this film had escaped me.

      I'm glad you enjoyed the Trafalgar Square photograph. It is a favorite of mine, as I've already stated, and I rather wish my parents had the foresight to have kept those little coats around. I was horrified to learn that my mother had culled her wardrobe and given away many of the items my father had tailored for her during the early decades of their marriage. I can tell you they were made with the finest of cloth and exquisitely executed.

      Delete
  7. Thank you for this wonderful post! I will anxiously await the next installment.

    A question...can you sew? ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello J.W.,

      Can I sew, you ask? A button, yes. A torn seam, yes. That's about it I'm afraid. My mother did teach me how to embroider so I am definitely better with the needle than a sewing machine or a dressmaker's pattern, let's put it that way.

      Delete
  8. Such a truly fascinating tale of your father's craft and some lovely photos. I can see why you are immensely proud. Many happy returns to the gentleman.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Lord Cowell. I hope you come back to read the second part of this story, which I should get on with so that I can publish it in the next day or so.

      Delete
  9. Dear Chronica,
    What a loving tribute to your dear pater and how fortunate you were to be dressed so stylishly. Did your father make anything special for your daughter?
    That Tommy Nutter suit made me smile. Those lapels are almost wide enough to take flight. Happy birthday to your sartorially gifted father and may he enjoy many more.
    K.L. Gaylin

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hello K.L. Gaylin,

      The wide lapels were Tommy's trademark. He was the first to introduce them to a bespoke suit, along with another collar design which I will make mention of in my next post. Can you imagine how the old guard felt upon seeing those? Another first on The Row was having an actual shopfront that one could peer into. Every other tailor at the time worked behind closed doors and would not dream of hanging their creations in a window.

      My father has yet to make my daughter anything but she did have the pleasure of sitting in his workshop and playing around with scraps of fabric and sewing little buttons on them to make her very own fantastical creations.

      Delete
  10. I've just discovered your blog due to my friend Heidi and I have read this entire series you wrote about your father, it's fascinating! Thank you for sharing it with us, what an incredibly interesting career, you've revealed some of the mysteries of this world that I've always been curious about.
    I'm looking forward to reading the rest of your posts, what a treat as you are an extremely talented writer!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dearest DaniBP,

      It is an honor to have you stop by and comment on my humble blog and learn that you've enjoyed my amateurish scribblings thus far, thank you.

      I'm glad I wrote about my father's career and took the time to do so over the three installments, instead of cramming everything into one. I wanted to do the story justice and had hoped that my readers may derive a little pleasure from reading it. By all the lovely comments, I think they have!

      I am now off to delve into what looks to be a very seasoned and lovely blog that you write. It is wonderful to discover that we have shared interests.

      Please do come back again.

      CD

      Delete

Please do leave a comment as I enjoy the dialogue with my readership, thank you.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...