DON’T GIVE UP on your search for the perfect tailor. I think I may have found mine. If you’re in New York, the shop is called Stanislav Ros Tailoring, Inc., located on the second floor of 987 Lexington Avenue, between 71st and 72nd Street. See the before and after pictures of the Carissa Rose Justina shirt after the jump. I’ve been writing about it since last May (off the rack), last July (pinned but abandoned by my former tailor), and last month. Maybe a better title for this post would be “A Stitch in a LOOOONG Time Saves a Shirt”.
I can’t believe that I considered not following through with these alterations. In Tim Gunn’s book, Gunn’s Golden Rules, Rule 12 is, “Don’t lose your sense of smell.” In other words, don’t get so used to a bad odor that you don’t smell it anymore. For us hourglassy women, we need to be careful that we don’t get so used to bad fit that we don’t realize we’re getting frumpy (or slutty, if the bad fit falls on the opposite end of the spectrum).
Unfortunately, my tailor’s expertise couldn’t abolish that little pucker at the apex that I dislike. He told me that changing the pattern so that the princess seams go to the shoulder instead of the armhole would solve this. That’s why my Eris Apparel shirt (may the company rest in peace) didn’t have this problem.
Also, one thing you may not realize when you check out the pictures is that the tailor moved the entire placket. Only if the sleeve is less than half an inch too long would he recommend simply shortening it. Just shortening the cuff may be faster and cheaper, but it throws off the proportions at the placket. (For example, the button may be just an inch from the cuff instead of halfway between the cuff and the end of the placket.)
Finally, one last indulgent story about my tailor so that you understand his skill. I noticed a receipt with a rough sketch of a wedding dress pinned to his wall and asked him about it. It was for his daughter’s friend. Her grandmother had passed down her wedding dress to her mother who had passed it down to her, but the friend couldn’t zip it. Since the original silk was irreplaceable, my tailor took some of the silk from the train and created two panels that he added to the bodice. The lawyer part of my brain could only think of the liability if he had made any errors. His response? “Don’t take the project if there’s any chance you’re going to mess it up.”
See his improvements to my shirt after the jump.