tale of a suit - Panderjam

THE TALE OF A SUIT

By James Gilbert

It was a lovely spring morning, just the sort of morning to get the roof down on the convertible and set off for Television Centre with a light heart. I was ready to have a meeting with the writers, Frank Muir and Dennis Norden and to have a first script meeting with the star of our new series, “The Seven Faces of Jim”- Jimmy Edwards.

The year was 1962 and Jimmy was a big comedy star on stage radio and television famous for his blunt, rumbustious personality. I was producing the programme and we had got on well when we met socially. Frank and Dennis’s scripts were clever and very funny. All the ingredients looked good. To celebrate the day I decided to wear my new suit for the first time.

My wife Fiona was born and brought up on a farm in the north of Scotland, which bred North Country Cheviot sheep. Each year her brother sent quantities of wool to the Tweed Mill at Brora in Sutherland.

“I’ll send you some samples” he said to me “and you can choose whatever pattern you want. There will be more than enough for a suit.”

The samples were very small so it was difficult to gauge what the final result would look like. I chose the most restrained check and hoped for the best.

Ten days later a parcel arrived. Inside was a length of tweed, heathery brown with a green check much larger than I had imagined but there was no doubting the quality. It was magnificent.

Hardy Amies, the famous fashion icon of the 60s, was doing a special offer with John Collier, the multiple tailors, which made it sound as if he would design the suit himself. In reality I was measured up at a branch in Richmond and the cloth was then sent to their factory in Leeds.

The fitter was very impressed. He said he had never worked with heavy cloth of such quality before but when I had the first fitting some weeks later, and the shoulders were too wide and the trousers too short, he lost his initial enthusiasm. In fact after the suit had been on a second and third return trip to Leeds for alterations, he said they could do no more.

“It’s a beautiful suit” he said “and it’s beautifully cut. It suits you to perfection” And with that he bade me goodbye.

When I got home, Fiona was non-committal, which was unusual for her. “It’s a lovely suit” she said “but it is not quite you, but wear it and see how you get on.” Click here to go to page 2

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