Winter is coming

This week, winter came to town. Not winter in the form of snow. But winter as in cold. Winter as in scarves, gloves, winter shoes and winter coat. I looked through the closet for my winter coat – and there it was! Clothes that hang in the closet for too long tend to shrink. You can buy two identical suits, use one and hang the other in the closet and the one in the closet will shrink and quickly become too tight. This is one of life’s real mysteries. With my winter coat, the opposite had happened. It was way too big! I felt like a little child in Dad’s coat. What now? Dad’s coat. It also hung in the closet. This was a coat I had been wearing regularly since I was around fifteen years old. Now it had been in the closet for about five to six years without being used. The fabric and quality of the coat had always impressed me. The fabric seemed almost indestructible. It was lined with thick silk and made in Italy. Probably sometime in the 60’s. I tried it on, and to my great surprise it had a perfect fit! I now remembered why I had put it away and invested in a new tailored coat a few years ago. Dad’s old coat had also shrunk inside the closet the last time I tried it on. And the seams of the lining and some stitches had also opened in the coat itself. But the thick wool fabric looked almost brand new! This must be repairable!

I searched a bit online and found a tailor nearby. He had good references, did work for shops and it seemed like a good place to save my father’s old coat.

The sound of small talk and buzzing sewing machines met me as I walked into the tailor’s workshop. A somewhat short man came towards me gesturing while he looked back and shouted something to someone further back in the room. Do you take on repairs, I asked? Of what! He shouted. A coat I said, pointing at the coat I was wearing. Yes! Yes! We do! He shouted while he almost tore the coat off me. He rolled up one sleeve and critically examined the coat. I did not have time to say anything until he disappeared with it. I moved a little and saw him with a woman, turning and twisting the coat and talking very loudly simultaneously.

There was also another customer in there. He tried to speak Spanish with a woman who put needles in his pants. Senorita! Senorita! Balloon! Balloon! He yelled as the woman calmly inserted several needles. I almost expected her to put someone straight in his leg as he twisted while yelling, gesturing, and pointing at the back of his thighs. He had the thinnest legs I had ever seen on a grown man. As tight as possible! As tight as possible! Senorita said yes, yes, but shook her head. He looked very pleased and shouted, Si! Si!

The man with my coat was back. He kept using exclamation marks behind every word, and with the height difference between us, it felt like he was standing on my toes yelling up at me: Impossible to repair! Must replace the lining! He threw out a number on how expensive this was going to be. Is it use or nostalgia! Nostalgia… I said questioningly. Then it costs extra! He shouted up at me. What is nostalgia? I asked. This pocket! What are you going to use it for! Well; it’s there. I must have pockets on the inside of the coat, I replied. But what are you going to use it for! He tore a small pocket below the inside pocket itself. This! What are you going to use it for! I really had no idea what it was used for, but I became very determined to keep the little pocket now that he yelled and held the pocket up in my face. Of course, I will have that pocket! I shouted down to him. Then it costs extra! I do not have that kind of lining in the shop. It must be ordered. Takes 10 days. Do you leave your coat here or will you come back!

I took my coat and left. He never asked my name. He never asked what services I would buy. He never asked what I wanted the result to be. He never asked what I would pay. I could have paid four times more than the price estimate if I had been treated as a customer with visions and dreams of how to save my father’s old coat. But he will never find that out now.