@lorimatthews, my husband actually asked for help with clothing a few months after we met. He had a massive cedar closet in the basement of his home stuffed with a ridiculous amount of clothing, and asked me to help him decided what to keep. I agreed, with one condition . . . that he try on everything. Literally sixteen jumbo garbage bags later, all full of clothing destined for charity, all that was left were two pairs of slacks with the tags still on. The rise on one pair was too long and the seat of the other pair was too big and taking them in enough would have had the back pockets meet together. He really did need help. He was wearing clothing that was too big for him, colors that were not good on him and styles (i.e., pleated slacks) that were outdated. Funny thing is that he had great shoes, and lots of them.
He refused to put those two brand new pairs of slacks into the "give away" bags and asked if I knew a tailor. Hmm, I sure did. A fabulous local high-end clothing store will tailor clothing for its customers, regardless of whether it was purchased there. I was a customer, so I knew they would help. I phoned ahead, arranged for the head of the men's department to meet us, and off we went with those pants. The tailor had him try on the first pair. "Rise too long," he said. Then with the second pair, the tailor said, "Seat too big. Pockets will meet!" At that point, this sweet man said to the tailor, "That's what she said." The tailor looked at him straight in the eyes and said, "You should listen to her. She knows!"
Well, I'd alerted that sales person that I was bringing in a brand new and potentially very good customer, and that he should be gentle with him. That day might not produce a sale, but there would the need for a complete new wardrobe. I cannot begin to tell you how transformative this became for my future husband. He went from the men's version of dowdy to extremely well dressed and feeling really good about himself. He also looks at least ten years younger.
Shortly after the beginning of his sartorial transformation, we met friends for dinner in Manhattan. They chose the restaurant and we had to walk about a half city block from the front door directly back to the table where our friends were already seated. There are a zillion restaurants in Manhattan, and by some minor miracle it happened that his very pregnant daughter-in-law was having a last night out with her girlfriends and sitting at the table exactly next to ours. She and her best friend were sitting facing the front door entrance. His DIL's best friend, who knew my husband, saw us walking towards our friend's table and said, "That looks like a younger, hipper version of your father-in-law." To which his DIL said, "That IS my father-in-law." Need I say more?
www.jfitzpatrickfootwear.com
