Hong Kong is the place for tailor made clothes. I know because I did that. I got a pretty camel hair suit made just for me. My ex got a three piece suit of Scottish tweed. Best of all was Frances, my ex-mother-in-law, then 70 years old. She got a silk dress. It was beautiful silk she’d picked it out from a bolt in the tailor’s shop that, itself, was everything you want a Chinese tailor’s shop to be — a hole in the wall on a busy Tsim Sat Tsui street.
When our clothes were ready (two days later) we all went down to get them. The suits were great, but Frances’ dress was the best of all. She tried it on in the shop to be sure the length was right. When she came out of the dressing room to show us — and the tailor — she spun around like Cinderella ready for the ball. The print was a soft design of flowers in lapis, cornflower and pink.
I never needed the suit because a year after returning from China, the ex and I moved to San Diego. Everyone there thought my clothes were funny and, anyway, who needs a camel hair suit in San Diego? It’s absurd… My ex didn’t need his suit, either.
But Frances wore her silk dress often.