Going to the tailor is one of those adult activities that in my drinking years always seemed vaguely impossible to me, like regularly attending a gym or caring for a child.
It almost seemed like a joke to me when people would buy something with an imperfect fit, casually stating an intention to take it to the tailor. COME ON YOU KNOW YOU'RE NEVER ACTUALLY GOING TO TAKE IT TO THE TAILOR, RIGHT?
Turns out it's pretty easy to take things to the tailor when you don't spend 85 percent of your time full of Jeager and Bud Light. (That's what they call classy drinkin'.) I still get a rush when I do it, like a little kid executing a trick on the monkey bars then looking around to see who's watching. Applause would be appropriate, I think.
Several times near xoJane HQ, I've passed this sweet-looking old man sewing in the window of the dry cleaners, so when both my vintage winter coats split in the same place under the arm (fat right pit?), I decided to try them out.
You guys, that old man was not sweet at all.
He spent about 10 minutes inspecting my coats for flaws while berating me for their condition. "So much to do, so much to do," he muttered disgustedly, like I wasn't about to pay him to do it all.
With each new lining rip or missing button, he seemed to grow more disdainful, culminating in the moment I dared to say I didn't want to pay to get the coats pressed.
"You like them wrinkled?" he sneered, forcing me to state that yes, I did indeed prefer them wrinkled. I love my coats wrinkled, yes indeed.
The thing is, the coats are vintage. That means old! They had rips and tears because they're old, not because I am a coat-ruining a-hole. And besides, that's why I was bringing them in, right? So he could fix them?
Oh yeah, and he told me I dress like his grandma. Not in a nice way.WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN, OLD MAN?
Anyway, it all culminated in a 100-dollar price tag for about a dozen little lining fixes and seam rips, which seemed pretty steep to me, but I pretty much would have paid this guy 100 dollars to leave me alone at this point.
Can someone experienced in tailoring please tell me if I got gouged by the mean old man? And if you've ever been clothing-condition-shamed by a tailor? Or how you take care of your vintage clothing? Or if I'll ever feel like a real adult?