February 2010 - Khaosan Road
Bangkok, Thailand
A south Asian man measured my body in a cozy tailoring shop on Khaosan Road. We analyzed a fabric book and picked out two fabrics for one charcoal and one navy suit. We decided on a mid-blue and a white dress shirt to go along with them. He educated me on vents, lapels, single vs. double breasted, pockets, dress shirt collars, and more. We agreed on a price, under $200 in total for the suits and shirts, and I left for my next adventure through northern Thailand. I’d be back in a few weeks to try on the garments.
I was in Thailand because I first went to South Korea as a 19 year-old exchange student. I was not dressing well at that time. Zero sartorial education combined with a rebellious phase led to a poor image in an already casual California environment. But when I studied abroad and would be meeting all new friends, I couldn’t help but think about my clothes and the image I would project.
My first semester was spent with Europeans, Asians, and East Coasters that had much better sense of style than me. It was a gift to spend time alongside them and observe and ask questions.
Get super fit and wear very little was my basic style philosophy. That worked okay when it was warm out, but it did not go along with the more conservative style of South Koreans. Somewhere in the back of my head, I wanted to get my first suit if I ever found the opportunity.
I tried on the garments back on Khaosan Road and they fit like a glove. I took them on a cruise and wore them to formal dinners, which felt much different than eating street food in an old t-shirt and a bucket hat. My friends hardly recognized me when I got back to South Korea. People looked at me differently and I felt much more confident in well-fitting, understated suits. That was the first time I felt the power of a tailored garment.