Why tailoring matters

Dear reader,

There are those who think that tailoring is dead .
That suits are a relic of the past, something you only see in old movies, among cigarettes, black cabs, and men in hats who always knew what to say.

And yet, here are some of us. The last romantics .

You'll recognize them easily: they walk slowly, look at shop windows as if they were libraries, and stroke a lapel like someone reading a poem from memory. They're not out of step with their time; they simply don't surrender to it.

Let me tell you a story.

A few months ago, a young man like us, in his twenties, came to the workshop.
He was wearing a sweatshirt, noise-cancelling AirPods Pro, and a confidence that only youth, unconsciousness, or 45 million unread books can provide.

He looked at us with some curiosity, as if he had accidentally entered a vinyl store.

"I want a suit," he said, "but… one that doesn't look like a suit."
What. Doesn't. Look. Like. A. Suit. Go.
And there was the challenge.

Because a suit, my dear friend, always looks like a suit.
The difference is in how you carry it.

We take measurements, we talk about fabrics, cuts, shoulders, linings.
We show you how a millimeter can change a silhouette, how choosing the right buttonhole can define an entire life.

And little by little, that kid began to understand that tailoring isn't a garment: it's an attitude.

A way of being in the world, and of showing yourself to it.

Sometimes I think that tailoring is the last refuge of those who still believe in useless beauty.

In the things that serve no purpose other than to remind you that time can have a different rhythm. Like your life, your job, or your next promotion.

Like handwritten letters, mechanical watches, or leisurely after-dinner conversations.

A good friend of mine has a wind-up watch, and the first thing he does every morning is turn it over so it runs for another 24 hours, a simple reminder that life has just given him a whole day to live. And damn, it makes your skin crawl just thinking about living with that feeling of making the most of every second.

It's not just about dressing well.
It is understanding that elegance is not measured by price, but by the confidence with which it is carried.

A tailored suit doesn't shout. It whispers to the world.

And yes, the world may have changed.
Maybe fewer of them wear cufflinks or know how to tie a Windsor knot without watching a YouTube tutorial, but they do know perfectly well how to use ChatGPT.

But there's one thing that doesn't change: the desire to feel in control of yourself when you put on your jacket.

That feeling that the day can finally begin.

So yes, tailoring is still alive.
As long as there is someone who understands that dressing well is not an obligation, but a tribute.

A small act of faith.

See you at the BundClub

The Bund team.