Clothes Encounter

"You guys are Idiots!", said S, who was in a reflective mood. I nodded my agreement. You see I am used to agreeing with people, I'm a banker. "There are so many tailors here in India yet you guys blindly go and buy readymade clothes paying fancy money". I nodded again, it is usually better to let him vent it out. "In the US tailoring is way to expensive, you can't even alter clothes that you buy off the shelf but here in India the custom made clothes is cheaper than readymade stuff, plus just look at you, look at your clothes, your shirt is way too crumpled, your sleeve length is too long and your trousers, well, I won't go there.. You guys are so influenced by their culture", said he shaking his head.

BOO

"Ok, I'll bite, give me the name of your tailor" I asked, just to get the dude off his soap box.

Thats how I found myself at the doors of Hong Kong Custom Tailors (Since 1963). I half expected the Fanucci brothers (the twittering twosome from the movie Oscar), whom I would order with the snap of my fingers like Sly Stallone did as they fitted his suit. As is the general case with me the tailor I encountered looked exactly like a different Italian movie character, Don Vito Corleone of the Godfather. As he moved slowly across the room to greet me, my lips almost uttered 'Bueno Sera', before I checked myself and said 'Hello'.

WOOO

A nod and what was a minor twitch of the mouth was all I got as a greeting.

Hi Mukta, this is message is for your curious mind :-)

The efficient shop assistants, who incidentally looked like mob hitmen, without the suits and brandishing measuring tapes, started showing me the fabric, I sifted through them nervously as the Don watched. Finally, having been lead to some good material, I was ready to be measured.

The Don approached.

That very moment I was reminded of that episode of Friends, where Chandler goes to Joey's tailor and gets fondled ('cupping' was the term used) by the him while being measured.0

What if the Don cupped? I wondered. Would I get out of this place alive if I protested?

The Don picked up a tape and started measuring. No cupping, thank god! I exhaled. The Don was a thorough professional, efficient and fast.

As he was measuring my waist, I cleared my throat nervously. The Don looked up, I had permission to speak. "Wwould you be able to alter the waist later?" I asked. "Reduced?", he cocked his head to one side, that was my cue to explain. "Yes, my waist size keeps altering since I go to the gym..." I muttered.

The Don sighed. One of those optimistic wierdos, his mind seemed to tell him. "Sure sure" is all he said. I was ecstatic, I didn't know if I had to kiss his ring as a sign of thanks.

The deed was done.

A week later, I picked up a perfectly tailored sets of trousers and shirts. I professed my thanks to the Don, he just nodded.

As I wear this nice set of clothes, I now wonder if I would be ever called to be of service to the Don as a return for what he had done for me.