My ladies frock coat awaiting its first fitting
Photo: Chronica Domus
Nota bene: I apologize for the delay in publishing this post, the final installment of the three-part series. I've had to dig deep into my seemingly bottomless digital photography library to find the images of my father at work that best illustrate this story. I do hope you enjoy reading and viewing this post.
My father enjoyed a great passion for his craft during his long career as a Savile Row tailor, a passion that went far beyond merely earning his daily bread. You would think that in his spare time he would turn to other pleasures to occupy his hours. Not my Dad. He had a working love affair with fabric and our family has reaped the rewards handsomely over the years. His sons-in-law wore bespoke suits made for them as wedding gifts by his hand, as did most of the male cousins in our family. He was also our favorite curtain maker, and even turned his attention to upholstery on one occasion.
Shortly before his retirement, my father generously offered to make my husband and I some bespoke sartorial gifts. My fortunate other half was to be outfitted with a new two-piece suit and a heavy winter coat, and I was to be the lucky recipient of a ladies frock coat.
We were sent along to visit
Chittleborough & Morgan on Savile Row, where we met with Mr. Roy Chittleborough who expertly measured us for our new clothing. I've known Roy, and his business partner Mr. Joseph Morgan, since childhood and always make a point of stopping by the shop to say hello whenever I'm in London. In Roy's capable hands, we were assured that the numerous measurements taken (I lost track of exactly how many after about ten) to make our individual bespoke patterns would be handled with the utmost skill and dexterity.
While at the shop, my husband had the opportunity of selecting the cloth for his new suit, a grey superfine British worsted wool, and also the lining for his jacket and trousers, a brilliant purple silk which would impart a dashing shot of color to an otherwise conservative looking suit.
The photograph below shows my father cutting the suit trousers from the grey wool.
Chalk lines indicate where to cut for economy of cloth
Photo: Chronica Domus
The mark of a quality British superfine all worsted wool, woven at a mill located in the town of Huddersfield in northern England
Photo: Chronica Domus
Nothing is wasted, not even the cloth's identifying label, seen above, which is woven at the edge of the fabric. Eventually, this will be cut and stitched into the interior backs of the trouser cuffs, providing extra durability and extending the life of the trousers, a nice bespoke detail not found on made-to-measure or off the rack trousers.
Making adjustments to the trousers at the first fitting
Photo: Chronica Domus
Chalk is so important to a tailor. In the photograph above, my husband receives his first trouser fitting. By the end of it, he is covered in chalk marks indicating where alternations are required.
The suit jacket is single-breasted with two buttons, a breast pocket, and a classic peaked lapel. It is a well known fact among the tailoring community that cutting peaked collars on single-breasted jackets is one of the most challenging aspects of the craft. I think my father did an outstanding job on my husband's jacket, seen in the photograph below.
A classic peaked lapel complete with buttonhole for one's boutonniére
Photo: Chronica Domus
The interior of the jacket is a work of art. See how beautifully the silk lining has been hand-stitched into the jacket, finished off with neat triangular pocket flaps and little horn buttons. The seam that runs slightly to the bottom right of the flap shows how this pocket is divided into two so that the wearer can store a narrow item, such as a pen, upright.
The interior work of the jacket beautifully highlighted in purple silk
Photo: Chronica Domus
Now, onto the next item of clothing, my husband's heavy winter cashmere coat. Part of the inspiration for this began with Benedict Cumberbatch's portrayal of Sherlock Holmes, who is kitted out in a marvelously dramatic coat that combines aspects of a traditional frock coat and a military greatcoat.
Watching the two men in my life collaborate on the design of the coat provided some rather amusing moments. Here is what they came up with while brainstorming one evening.
The design process of the winter coat as it evolved - left, my husband's crude drawing, center and right, my father's interpretation using the medium he works best in, cloth
Photo: Chronica Domus
I was curious to see what sartorial marvel would be concocted from the lavish heavy black cashmere wool and blood-red colored silk chosen to line the coat.
The photographs below show the incredible amount of hidden detail that goes into every bespoke coat and jacket. Hundreds of stitches help build the foundation of the chest area, lapels, and collar. It takes many hours of concentration and nimble fingers, in concert with needle and thread, to achieve the correct structure.
The hidden workings of a bespoke coat
Photo: Chronica Domus
The interior of the left front coat panel, showing my father accurately measuring the angle and width of the lapel
Photo: Chronica Domus
Snipping the black cashmere fabric that will line the lapel, no mistakes allowed!
Photo: Chronica Domus
At first fitting, below, you can see how much progress has been made. The coat is beginning to resemble the crude design that was hatched during the brainstorming session. A canvas waist band is pinned in place to get an idea of it's final positioning.
White thread and chalk guide my father in achieving the perfect fit
Photo: Chronica Domus
The style and placing of the cuffs and slanted pockets are picked out in canvas at the initial fitting
Photo: Chronica Domus
It took several more fittings, and many more hours of work, until my father was ready to hand sew the silk lining to the interior of the coat. Below you see the old master beginning to thread the various panels together.
Photo: Chronica Domus
Like a jigsaw puzzle, much concentration and skill is required to align the silk panels for a flawless fit
Photo: Chronica Domus
The completed interior showing one of the pockets embellished with a little horn button
Photo: Chronica Domus
The elegant curve of the cuff imparts a dashing touch of artistry to the coat
Photo: Chronica Domus
Below, I present my husband, photographed on a chilly December evening in London alongside a statue of the dandiest of Regency dandies, Beau Brummel. I think they both look rather fetching in their double-breasted coats, don't you?
Two elegantly attired dandies on Jermyn Street, one of London's most fashionable streets and home to many gentlemen's clothiers
Photo: Chronica Domus
Now it was my turn to be outfitted in style. My father asked me what I would enjoy wearing and find useful to add to my wardrobe. We discussed the idea for making a very handsome coat that I knew would be put to good use whenever I had occasion to be dressed to the nines and out on the town for some fun. I was to receive a ladies double-breasted frock coat, designed to be worn over a dress as a light layer and not really meant to keep the cold weather at bay, such as a heavy overcoat would. The frock coat would be long-skirted, slightly nipped in at the waist, with two back vents running the length of the skirt. I was floating on a cloud at the prospect of wearing such a theatrical coat and could not wait to witness the magic my father would conjure to make it all materialize.
Here is the front panel of my ladies frock coat being readied for my first fitting
Photo: Chronica Domus
Here I am under the careful gaze of my father as he pins and chalks away
Photo: Chronica Domus
I was so excited to see what the front of the frock coat looked like that I dashed into the bathroom to peek into the mirror
Photo: Chronica Domus
For a feminine touch, I selected a salmon pink two-toned lining that appears green as the fabric shifts around in the light. Pink thread was also used to highlight the bottom buttonhole of the cuffs adding another idiosyncratic detail to the coat. Can you see the clandestine pocket that has been incorporated into the lining at the waistline? My husband and I have immensely enjoyed taking advantage of such bespoke detail, adding flamboyant touches where they would not ordinarily be expected.
Horn buttons, pink buttonholes, and secret pockets, bespoke touches that make up my ladies frock coat
Photo: Chronica Domus
It was a fascinating educational journey of discovery and awe as we documented my father at work and watched him create immaculately tailored garments for us We find ourselves so very fortunate to be the grateful recipients of his magnanimous nature, and shall wear each garment with pride and joy for many years to come.
Slipping into an item of clothing that is made to one's exact form which traces perfectly the curve of the shoulders, the small of the back, and the length of the arm, is a great joy. To state something fits like a glove is truly the best possible way of describing the experience, and to know each item was made by my beloved father with love, generosity and care is indeed wondrous.