...and thy Temple be Budd
Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 5:09 pm
As I entered Budd-immaculate like a shrine- I informed the manager that he was in front of a new convert to shirtology. I skipped the whole story, the dream, the Angel Micheál, the Revelation and concentrated on the substance of the matter. I would not settle for anything less than perfection and a paper on the shop window requesting an apprentice proficient in the ways of the West End was cause of concern. I was at once informed that on the Upper Deck they counted with the services of a junior who showed some promise after forty two years of trade. Once the confession made, this point clarified and the usual codes exchanged, the Cutter Master came down from the Upper Deck and proceeded to take the measurements. Mr. Butcher reminded me of the original skipper of Budd´s tale, though in my case I hope hanging will be spared-flogging not so sure. Truth to be told I have a ROTC training and the nitty gritty approach to my sleeves looked only too familiar. When his hands approached the throat, though, I must confess I felt some apprehension.
We did not discuss much about the details other than the usual tug of war about the collar, the maker wanting a narrower fit than I find it comfortable to wear- a common fixture with all cutters in the world, shoes included, and cause of much torment. Things did not reach the level prescribed in the rules of engagement for we all understood that the first shirt is only a draft and that once the garment is worn five or six times the real tweaking-or destroying-will begin. Budd´s approach is zero tolerance. No fittings no second chances. If the shirt is not perfect they will make another at no cost. I like the policy though I find it a bit arrogant. In any case I prefer self assurance to diffidence. This first shirt will be ready in nine weeks. Once the measure proves perfect the real thing will begin. Custom fixes. We´ll see.
Then came the second trial. I proceed to show a picture of our beloved Duke of Windsor harboring a superb satin black tie and of course I wanted a replica. I was politely informed that my request was of impossible fulfillement since its historical character made it impossible to replicate. I was invited to walk to the Victoria and Albert Museum or to the BBC gown department. Though a novice in the field I resisted the move and I complained bitterly. I had obeyed the Angel and followed the voice, then the star, crossed the dark waters of the Channel, found the Temple in the distant Britannia only to be sent to the outside darkness by the Holy Priest of the cult? Never. Somewhat softened by my insistence the manager found a bat (?) tie in his trunk of wonders and I recognized, instantly, the precise golden proportion that had triggered my quest. Three bow ties is the minimum order. Three will be then. If , when the day comes, I find any deviation from the model I will proceed to shorten it in multiples of half an inch until I am satisfied with the result.
Quick wit was the norm (somebody popped up from the Upper Deck and upon seeing the Duke´s picture said. "To replicate this? Impossible. You are much too young") and I enjoyed the experience enormously. I appreciated the understatement too. Mr. Butcher was not described as the best cutter in the world as one might expect. Just in the West End. Will keep you posted.
The Duke of Windsor bow tie
We did not discuss much about the details other than the usual tug of war about the collar, the maker wanting a narrower fit than I find it comfortable to wear- a common fixture with all cutters in the world, shoes included, and cause of much torment. Things did not reach the level prescribed in the rules of engagement for we all understood that the first shirt is only a draft and that once the garment is worn five or six times the real tweaking-or destroying-will begin. Budd´s approach is zero tolerance. No fittings no second chances. If the shirt is not perfect they will make another at no cost. I like the policy though I find it a bit arrogant. In any case I prefer self assurance to diffidence. This first shirt will be ready in nine weeks. Once the measure proves perfect the real thing will begin. Custom fixes. We´ll see.
Then came the second trial. I proceed to show a picture of our beloved Duke of Windsor harboring a superb satin black tie and of course I wanted a replica. I was politely informed that my request was of impossible fulfillement since its historical character made it impossible to replicate. I was invited to walk to the Victoria and Albert Museum or to the BBC gown department. Though a novice in the field I resisted the move and I complained bitterly. I had obeyed the Angel and followed the voice, then the star, crossed the dark waters of the Channel, found the Temple in the distant Britannia only to be sent to the outside darkness by the Holy Priest of the cult? Never. Somewhat softened by my insistence the manager found a bat (?) tie in his trunk of wonders and I recognized, instantly, the precise golden proportion that had triggered my quest. Three bow ties is the minimum order. Three will be then. If , when the day comes, I find any deviation from the model I will proceed to shorten it in multiples of half an inch until I am satisfied with the result.
Quick wit was the norm (somebody popped up from the Upper Deck and upon seeing the Duke´s picture said. "To replicate this? Impossible. You are much too young") and I enjoyed the experience enormously. I appreciated the understatement too. Mr. Butcher was not described as the best cutter in the world as one might expect. Just in the West End. Will keep you posted.
The Duke of Windsor bow tie
Dear Castiglione, seems you had some entertainment at no 3 Piccadilly Arcade?