Demurring Bespoke and Obsessing the Perfect Imperfections

Your everlasting summer and you can see it fading fast, 

So you grab a piece of something that you think is gonna last…

I’ve spent a lifetime trying to live over my paygrade and staying outta’ trouble with debt and the taxman.  I knew when I turned down that law school admission that I’d stepped in it, that I’d chosen my heart over my head.  I was at least smart enough not to attempt to make a life working with my hands, unless that means with ink and paper.

Voltaire proves there is value in a life of words. 

 

Qui plume a, guerre a. Ce monde est un vaste templedédié à la discorde.

 

I try not to forget this though it’s important we don’t get too grumpy, self-important, or assertive even when life's done it's job and tempered, burnt, and otherwise chasten us into believing that we know better.  No one likes to pay more than they have to but too many of us are looking for a bargain when we'd be far better off if we sucked it up to pay retail to someone who is doing the hard work.  It's also a matter of simple decency and that's never optional.  What is optional is thinking that you have all the answers or that you need to have an opinion about everything.  The irony of what I just wrote isn't wholly lost on me.

The easy answer is to say at this late in life moment that I have no regrets.  But what have you done with your life if you have no regrets?  I’m not opposed to lying for the sake of mental health and we can deal with that problematic idea later too.  I can say with veritable pellucidity that I don’t regret skipping the lawyer’s life, with all due respect to a (sometimes) noble profession.  There’s plenty of other stuff that keeps me up at night. And should.  Choices may be largely illusory once we consider how in every moment life is already choosing.

Now I think you shouldn’t go without if you can afford it.  That’s a privileged, first world problem but I mean it to apply in more egalitarian terms.  Life shouldn’t be a zero sum game and there’s plenty to go around no matter how many times The Rich tell us we can’t afford life’s good things.  Let’s not go to lifeboat ethics or some other response that leads to purging and guilt-driven asceticism.

If you want to get rid of your stuff that’s fine with me.  (Watch George Carlin tell you about "stuff" to get over this getting rid of stuff stuff.)  But I have no problem (well, fewer) with loving what I love about a material life.  Life that isn’t material can’t be spiritual: you’d be already dead.  Live a little.

The Good Stuff costs more and it’s worth it in that long term short term calculation that invokes emotional liabilities and asset assessments.  So far, so good.  I’ve arrived: I am American ready for that Medicare card and I’m still living slightly over my paygrade without too many untoward consequences.  How did that happen?  Been reelin’ in the years.

 

The things that pass for knowledge I can't understand…

There are a lot of rip offs in life and only some of them we can prevent.  Not all fatti con mani, small batch, artisanal, craftspersonmade, reserved, or bespoke is necessarily better than off the rack.  It all depends on whose rack.  Bepoke is of course not to be confused with “custom.”  Custom means you have had significant input in design or execution.  I’m skeptical, not only of you but of myself.  Let's make the difference clearer.

Bespoke means that someone who knows what they are doing is doing something for you and that it largely represents their vision, their crucial decisions and choices for you.   When I walked into Huntsman in the late 1980s looking for a suit I did not dare tell them what I wanted.  When they made suggestions or told me it was my choice then I stepped in---and asked their advice every step of the way.  What in heaven’s name do I know about bespoke suiting?  Didn’t I go there to have them do the hard work and make something they believe is proper for me?

In the ‘90s I helped people get on custom steel bicycles when I realized that what they needed was bespoke, not custom---because with all due respect (<- we know what that really means, don’t we?), the client was going to cock it up and as Gareth Mallory implores, “Good luck, 007. Don't cock it up.”

I get the thrill of bespoke and, despite the admonition, you can buy a thrill.  Ask any sailor.  I’ll go further: I’m not actually sure that you can’t buy happiness but I’m as positivist as the periodic table that thrills are for purchase.

Many makers not only want to please, they genuinely want to involve you, and they like that we are thrilled about the things they make.  No matter what Rilke says, everyone wants to please and a get a good review.  But having been down this yellow brick road of bespoken goods, I urge caution and deference.

It’s hard to trust someone with your tastes, passions, hard-won experience and preferences.  I’m not suggesting we take the stance of potted plants or act like crash test dummies but I prefer a maker to be more Reynolds Woodcock telling me how the dress should fit and that I can take my business elsewhere if I want an Armani knockoff.

Now with boots this bespoke thing enters another dimension because feet.  There is no normal; there are just lasts and adults that care a lot about their boots will make expensive fitting mistakes.  Will bespoke remedy that once, for all?  Maybe.  It should, right?

 

But it’s also possible that you find a ready-made that is even better than bespoke.  For me Alden’s Trubalance last on their venerable Indy boots cannot be surpassed for fit---I have bespoken shoes that are brilliant but not as comfortable.  Does bespoke bypass the mistakes you make along the way? Was there value in making those mistakes?

 

I've spent a lot of money and I've spent a lot of time
The trip we made to Hollywood is etched upon my mind

 

 

I have an off-their-rack leather jacket from The Real McCoys’ that I must admit fits better than bespoke from one of realllllyreallly good, well-deservedly famous makers.  Maybe I’m longing for more personal normality but for me the thrill of bespoke is gone, it sounds exhausting, I want to put my boots or my jacket on and get on with it.  YMMV, and that I cannot resent in the least.  You may still need the experience, even the thrill.  No one should deny your thrills unless, well, you know.

But my take away is this---for what it’s worth from an old guy who has chased obsessions, the details of details, and the exceptions of Sanskrit grammar his whole life: there is something to be said about looking for perfection with plenty of room for imperfection, adjustment, a wee bit of adaptation because you are letting someone who will make the time to help you make a better choice than yours.

We need not abdicate our preferences nor cower before Woodcock’s controlling neurosis but he’s the genius and---it’s hard to say this to you---you are not.  There are some emotional benefits too.  Not to letting go of your obsessions but rather enjoying them. 

 

You may still want the thrill of bespoke and I do not discount its virtues.  I’m here merely to suggest that when you go to the see The Great Ones, let their greatness lead the way.  Do tell them what you like, what you prefer, what you think.  The best of them will listen carefully but then steer you, guide you, and the very best of them will not cock it up or let you do as much.

 

Are you reelin' in the years?
Stowin' away the time
Are you gatherin' up the tears?
Have you had enough of mine
Are you reelin' in the years?