February 8, 2014 by Ville Raivio
March 16, 1998, was greeted in The New Yorker’s pages with an article from John Seabrook. He wrote about his father’s large-as-life wardrobe filled with orders from Blades or H. Huntsman on Savile Row, Bernard Weatherhill in New York and A-Man Hing Cheong in Hong Kong, as well as Sulka, Lesserson, Turnbull&Asser for shirts — all in a motorised contraption the like of those only dry-cleaners and sworn dandies own. A button was pushed to see a lifetime of jackets, suits, coats, drape, white tie, black tie, odd vests, Loden, glen plaids and raccoon traverse the walk-in closet in a buzz of beautiful clothing. As a grand finale: the father was seen on leisure in pyjamas or just plain ol’ naked. This, dear reader, was a life well lived.
Category Reading | Tags: