How To Walk In High Heels: The Girl's Guide To Everything (41 page)

I discovered bespoke in my parents’ wardrobe. My mum, as well as my dad, had suits made to measure by Tommy Nutter. They were made just for you, so they sculpted and fit like a glove, and it was this attention to detail and design that fascinated me. Yeah, it’s more expensive than ready to wear, but in the end it lasts you a lifetime, so the cost is relative.

The most important thing when going to see a tailor is to know that if you are ordering bespoke you can have anything you like. You are the designer if you like, and the suit is tailored to your mood and personality.

Do not feel intimidated, be strong-minded and tell them what you want. Traditionally tailoring was geared to men, but women should be able to have things tailor-made to fit their shapes. My mum would mix her bespoke jackets with floral printed dresses, and her style was very inspiring and individual.

Ask questions, and follow your fitting. Does it fit under the bust? Are the shoulders tight enough or too tight? Can you move your arms? What part of your silhouette do you want to enhance? And what do you want to conceal? Getting a bespoke suit made helps you understand the shape of your body. It’s a great way to hide anything you’re unhappy with. The fabric goes under the knife – not you! Over the years, as your figure changes, you can bring the suit in and get it altered to fit your ever-changing shape. I want women to keep coming back, and make the suit part of their wardrobe, their life. Why should men be the only ones to have suits that give them the perfect physique and have clothing that can hide a pigeon chest and so on? A tailor is your ally, he keeps your shape a closely guarded secret and, like a sculptor, will make you a new shadow.

If you aren’t happy with it after three fittings a tailor will keep going till it is perfect. You can sit in a bath in your jeans to shrink them to fit, or you can get a tailor to teach you the tricks for your size. Work with them and create the perfect curves.

The fibres in really good suits are wool, so you shouldn’t dry-clean as the chemicals will strip them down; just take it back to the tailor and they can steam it with the industrial iron and revive it. A crease down the centre front of a pair of trousers is the essential finishing touch. On my bespoke there is one pink buttonhole so those in the know see how well suited you are.

If ordering bespoke, I usually recommend that you get a single-breasted jacket with two varieties of trousers, say a low-slung hipster pant and a more classic style. This is the staple that can never fail. Women can look powerful as well as sexy in a suit, think of Bianca Jagger in her white pant suit, or Madonna. Do not let Savile Row intimidate you, you know it’s not a man’s world.

Just on the cusp of adolescence, when I could already feel the stirrings of the avalanche that would be teenage-hood, I got a Saturday job doing the ironing for my next-door neighbours. We lived on a splendid estate in the heart of the Ashdown Forest in what had been the Laundry, and our neighbours occupied the Coach House. They were a retired army couple, friendly, but from a different world. I wasn’t sure that I knew how to iron but I needed the money to buy . . . anything.

Joan, my employer, led me upstairs into a small room with a mountain of crumpled things. She didn’t seem like the ironing type herself but proceeded to give me one of the most useful lessons of my life. ‘First, take the shirt, drape it over the board back down, and iron the yoke and the back of the collar. Then do the cuffs, followed by the sleeves. Do the sides next, then go back to the back. Your final loving stroke is devoted to the collar’ (maybe not her precise words). I followed her instructions to the letter and found I had a knack for it. Then I experimented a bit as I couldn’t believe her sequence of applications could really make much difference – but it did! It was like the perfect child’s routine: change it and everything gets muddled and confused; stick to it and order, symmetry and satisfaction follow. My thirteenth birthday occurred and hormones and mood swings raged. Leonard Cohen blasted; yet when I ironed, all was well: yoke, collar, cuffs, sleeves, sides, back . . . and collar! I was good at ironing, I took pride in ironing and strangely ironing made me feel better. When I had left home and was a punk rocker living in London, I would sit in the kitchen, preparing to go out to a club, and if there was time I would give myself a special treat and get out the ironing board.