I went looking for a pair of trousers and came back with a suit‏

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14 December 2010

Hoi An is interesting place. It borders on fantastical. I went looking for a bakery this morning. During my search I must have passed twenty tailors and and half a dozen beauty salons. It's like a narcissistic paradise. Over the last few days I've heard the phrase, "I have an appointment with my tailor this afternoon" an inordinate number of times. A few days ago, fresh in from Saigon that morning, Jean and I went on a stroll about town. The day was warm but not hot. Great weather for a stroll.

This photo is in Cambodia, but I'm sure you recognise the trousers!
After a while, we found ourselves at a bookshop, perusing the pirated collection. I was toying with the idea of getting a Chinese guidebook when the very pregnant proprietor came out. She commenced with the usual sales tactic of thrusting various books in front me, telling me this one was good (she didn't read it but a friend told her so), or several people bought this book last week. She flipped the books open so I could see the pages. It was much like she trying to sell me an apple or a tangerine. Here have a James Patterson thriller. It's thick but low calorie.

Somehow, the subject of tailors came up. I admitted that I might have some interest in a new pair of trousers. Since Sri Lanka, I had been down to one pair, a heavy, well worn pair of brown Dockers. They had started off on the big side. With a little weight loss and no clothes dryer to shrink them down, they had ballooned. It so happened that the proprietor had a sister who was a tailor. Imagine that! Before we knew it we were being whisked outside and down the street to a tailor.

What happened next is still a little hazy and quite a mystery a me. The word "suit" seemed to hang in the air and grew louder the longer I stayed in the shop. The proprietor's sister was busy with another client so we were given a seat at the table with a smiling, well-dressed woman. I explained that I was looking for a pair of trousers much like the one's I had. She gave them a scrutinous look. I tried to smooth out the wrinkles as I described what I was looking for: lighter weight but still rugged, similar color brown, one side pocket, deep hip pockets. She took it in slowly, nodding the whole time. She began scribbling in a notebook. In the silence, looking around at all the well dressed mannequins, the aforementioned word echoed louder in my ears.

She got up and returned with a stack of cloth swatches. Around this time, another lady had arrived and engaged Jean with a magazine of woman's fashion. I picked out a piece of cloth that looked about the color of my current trousers and handed the swatches back. The lady made a note and then looked up at me brightly, "And what kind of suit would you like?"



Before me, there had miraculously appeared a book of men's suits. I had been sucked in like the Millennium Falcon being tractor beamed into the Death Star. I was going to get a suit. Out of the hundreds I found a style I liked (apart from color most looked the same to me) and selected the cloth. It would be ready tomorrow she said.

Walking out into the sunlight, I was dazzled. Emerging from the shop felt like waking from a dream. Turning to Jean I said, "I only went in for a pair of trousers, did I just by a suit?"

Comments

sly said…
What every backpacker needs!
16 January 2011 at 07:25
Dzhon said…
Only one suit? You got off easy! I bought two.
22 January 2011 at 08:31
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