I stand off to the side, watching James work. He is patient, and even behind the mask I know he smiles. He smiles because it’s clear that he loves what he does. The whole time he talks, about fit, about break, about materials, about the fact that once you add alterations to something off the rack you might as well have gotten something bespoke.
I’ve already had my fitting and I’m beaming. I put my hands in the pants pockets and there are phone sized inner pockets in both sides. James even threw in a shirt for me, the hem cut short in that incredibly trendy new untucked length.
I take a quick selfie to send to my partner.
I look over to the future groom. A barrage of questions.
“How’s the fit? Hands to your sides please, fingers in a gentle curl. Great. How do you feel? Can you step here to the mirror to check yourself out? Awesome. Pockets? Turn a little bit? Okay turn around and take a step back and then look at yourself in the mirror.”
This is a whole new man in front of me. James and I watch the groom, and he sees himself for the first time in his suit.
For a moment I imagine that this is what my Dad felt like.
// No you're crying!