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Showing posts from June, 2016

Tailor Made

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I had a personal tailor growing up.  Sounds a bit posh, doesn't it?  But I really did.  My father was a tailor (always will be a tailor), and of course the best tailor around.  All my life, he took care of my alterations with expert care. He knew how I was built. One arm just a tiny bit longer than the other, one hip a little off, and an ever fluctuating waistline. He altered my clothes perfectly and instinctively.

Over the past few years though, his eyesight has dimmed and he can't tailor the way he could when his vision was sharp.  I remember shopping with confidence knowing he could fix anything that didn't fit me quite right. So, I wouldn't hesitate to buy things that needed altering. I knew he would be ready and willing to make the necessary changes to my clothes, transforming them to fit my crooked body.   

Now a days, I know I can't run to my dad to make alterations for me. I miss being able to go to him to customize the fit of my clothes. I am sure I could f…