At one time, tailors were a regular fixture on all the high streets of the UK. Basically, most men after leaving school wore a suit every day. Whether to the office or as a ‘Sunday Best’ in church or down the pub. The lack of decent ready-made clothes up until the late 1950s meant getting a suit made was a time honoured rite of passage for young men, when they left school and headed for the rest of their life.

By the time I was doing the same thing, around 1979, much had changed and the idea of getting clothes made, to my generation anyway, was a strange one. You could get your styles of choice from many well-known retailers, so why have them made? For me, this meant going to small boutique type place where I could get my ‘Farah’s’ in a variety of colours and a nice shirt to match without too much trouble.

It was only when I got really into the mod state of mind that I started to want to explore getting something made. By this stage, many of the tailors I mentioned earlier had long since packed up, but I noticed one local to me by the name of ‘Ron Martin.’ I would often go past it on the bus, trying to get a glimpse of the inside of the shop, but it had a ‘half’ curtain up in its main window, so very little could be seen.

I had asked my old man about the bespoke process, but he told me it had been so long since he had bought a roll of cloth off a geezer in a pub and then got something made, that he wasn’t sure on the cost of it anymore. He did say, that I should get in my mind the style of suit I wanted, as it would save on time and therefore cost. The thing was I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted a ‘Jimmy’ suit. This was pretty much an exact copy of the one Phil Daniels has made in Quadrophenia. Chocolate Brown, three button with narrow trousers. Handsome.

Finally, when I had scraped a few bob together, I headed off to ‘Ron Martin’. ‘Ron about?’ I said, as I entered to be met by a rather large chap of, I was guessing, a Greek/Turkish background. ‘Just missed him’ he said smiling in a voice as cockney as mine ‘he retired 20 years ago…. I’m Archie, what can I do for you?’

I explained what I was looking for and he laughed. He explained that he hadn’t made that style of suit for years and asked me if I was sure? I told him I was, well, depending on cost. He quoted £250.00 and I gulped. A lot of money to me in 1981. But, in truth it didn’t put me off, so I shook his hand. The process of selecting cloth, and being measured began. Now this was a bit of me. A chance to dictate the size of lapels, trouser bottoms, and the length of a vent was a real pleasure.

As it happens, I think even Archie enjoyed it, as it gave him a chance to be a bit more creative than making his usual grey every day business man suits. The finished suit turned out really well. I loved it and wore it out and about all over the place. It worked very nicely in a mod club environment, but less so down the local boozer with my old man and his mates. ‘Look at him’ they would say, followed by ‘you’ve got one of my old suits on there son’ 

Sadly, there are even less local high street tailors around today, although in the West End for example there are still plenty of choices where you can spend your money, depending on your budget. Savile Row, of course, is a name a lot of people will know. This is very high end, with suits coming in around five grand or so. 

One of the most familiar faces of Soho is tailor Mark Powell, and his client base is more a case of who he doesn’t make for as opposed to who he does, in his shop on Marshall Street. 

A newish kid on the block is The Disguisery, run by Becky Philp and Giles Plumpton on Newman Street, which has a nice mid century modern feel to the whole process.

For me, well, I’m still keeping it local and still using the same shop in which Ron Martin used to trade. It’s now run by George Dyer, a Jamaican by birth, now a Londoner for over fifty years. His shop is called Threadneedleman, and in there you will meet a famous actor or singer waiting his turn as George finishes with a guy who drives a taxi. More a social club than a tailors if I’m honest. 

Hopefully, if you’ve ever been tempted to go bespoke, you will take the plunge one day.

My only advice is, be careful. It can be very addictive.

The Mumper of SE5