Six steps, in order, none skipped. This page is what you are actually paying for — the work between the measure and the mirror.
A bespoke garment is not one skill but a sequence of them, kept in strict order: the measure, the draft, the cut, the baste, the fittings, the finish. Every step exists because skipping it shows — maybe not in the mirror on day one, but in month six, at the collar, where cheap tailoring always confesses.
Not a tape hurried around a chest. The stance, the shoulder’s slope, the arm you lead with, how you actually stand rather than how you stand when measured — written down, argued over, kept. Your pattern is drafted from this and never thrown away.
Before the real sewing, the garment is tacked loosely together and put on your body. It looks unfinished because it is — that is the point. The baste is where the house finds the truth the tape missed, and it is taken apart the moment you leave.
Two fittings after the measure, usually. We fit until it is right, not until it is due.
A canvassed chest that moves with you instead of a glued front that bubbles in a Bombay monsoon. Sleeves set by hand so the shoulder sits quiet. Buttonholes sewn, not stamped. The press — hours of it — that gives the garment its memory.
This is why the house does not hurry, and why a finished garment keeps its line for years and not seasons.
A few weeks from measure to finish, with two fittings between. If there is a date — a wedding, a boardroom — say so at the start and the house plans backwards from it.
Usually two after the measure: the basted fitting and a forward fitting near the finish. A first commission earns more attention, never less.
Then it is not finished. The house presses, adjusts and repairs its own garments for their whole life — bring it back.
See what the making produces — the suit, the sherwani, the wedding.
The house will write to you to confirm the hour.