My immersion into the menswear landscape happened fast. Within a couple of weeks of accepting a job overseeing the beat for a luxury title—after spending more than a decade covering womenswear—I found myself bound for Pitti Uomo. A biannual industry trade show held in Florence, Italy, Pitti has long since outgrown the physical walls of the historic fortress that houses it. Instead, the event spills out into the narrow, cobblestone streets of the city, creating an influencer-heavy scene of suiting aficionados who appear determined to out-peacock one another—100-plus-degree temperatures in June be damned. But amid the occasionally over-the-top sartorial spectacles and the sweltering heat, an invaluable shift in my own perspective occurred.
I had long been drawn to tailoring whenever I wanted to feel particularly pulled together, a design preference that was no doubt a result of the effortless nature of the school uniform I wore during my youth. Yet, as a fashion journalist who was deeply focused on writing about rapidly changing trends, I couldn’t fathom having either the time or the personal inclination to fully embrace traditional suiting for everyday life. Even during my rare forays into tailored pieces, I was far more likely to pair an orphan blazer with a casual pair of jeans. Wearing a full suit felt wildly archaic and, if I am being completely frank, a bit boring.
Those preconceived notions began to fade rapidly en route from Florence to Milan for the broader menswear shows. It was there that I first caught a glimpse of my male colleagues’ impossibly minuscule suitcases, which seemed entirely baffling given the duration of the trip. The "secret," as I would soon learn, lay entirely within their strategic suiting, which they mixed and matched with absolute aplomb over the course of nearly two weeks of shows, presentations, and parties. It was enough to convince me that I needed a suit of my own—one crafted specifically for my lifestyle and proportions. When the time finally came to commission it, I knew immediately that Savile Row’s Caroline Andrew, whom I had originally met at a Pitti dinner, was the absolute perfect tailor for the job.
"Right now, about 30% of my clients are female, many of them based in the U.S.," Andrew tells me when discussing her expanding client base. It is an impressively high figure given that, historically, bespoke tailoring on "the Row" has been a service almost exclusively geared toward men. In fact, not every historic tailoring house on the street is even accustomed to cutting patterns specifically for the female form. Among Andrew’s growing clientele, she counts notable creative figures such as jewelry designer Jessica McCormack, gallerist Louisa Guinness—from whose namesake gallery Kendall Jenner famously procured those rare Alexander Calder artist earrings—and Fiona Dreesman, the tastemaker behind the popular Belgravia homewares boutique Fiona’s Finds.
Those same female clients are also frequently looking for something a bit left of center, moving away from traditional rigid expectations. While most traditional tailors on Savile Row adhere to a strict, time-tested house style, Andrew keeps a close eye on contemporary fashion and maintains a refreshing willingness to collaborate directly with her clients on custom designs. "Suiting for me is like a uniform," Dreesman tells me, noting also that going the bespoke route ensures the absolute perfection of sleeve lengths for her unusually tall frame. "I get up in the morning and don’t have to think about things going together. It is chic and sharp, and you are always well-dressed from day to night."
Investing in a bespoke Savile Row suit is, by any standard, a significant financial commitment. Semi-bespoke suits typically start around £3,000—roughly $4,000—while fully bespoke pieces begin at £5,000, which is approximately $6,600, and are entirely handmade by skilled artisans over months of meticulous labor. My primary goal for the project was singular: I wanted a single, high-impact garment that could successfully carry me through formal occasions during the bustling festive season, rather than purchasing multiple evening dresses that would inevitably take up precious New York City closet real estate. Looking ahead to the fall—as the process from start to finish is roughly a six-month endeavor involving three distinct fittings—I ultimately decided on a classic tuxedo.
While the sheer number of custom options can initially feel overwhelming to a first-time client, it proved to be an easy decision overall, though one that immediately begged detailed questions regarding lapel widths, buttonholes, specific fabrics, and precise trouser breaks. To spare myself the unnecessary stress of decision fatigue, I decided to defer entirely to Andrew’s expert judgment, a move I would highly recommend to anyone embarking on the bespoke journey.
Together, we landed on a double-breasted number featuring a hidden placket, which felt distinctly more modern. We chose a black wool barathea—widely considered the most traditional and luxurious of tuxedo fabrics—complemented by a silk-satin peak lapel and clean jetted pockets. At this preliminary stage, which marked our first fitting, there was naturally no physical garment to speak of, save for the visual references on a mood board I had carefully put together. Countless measurements were taken from every conceivable angle, and it was decided that the coordinating trousers would feature a slightly wide, straight-leg style with satin tape running the length of the outside hem. Recognizing that I would have no need for traditional belt loops, Andrew thoughtfully added tonal side adjusters to ensure a seamless waistline.
A few months later, Andrew was back in New York for the next phase, and the tuxedo was visibly taking shape. With the intricate internal stitch patterns and the structural horsehair "canvas" fully exposed during the fitting, it was impossible not to marvel at the sheer amount of work, precision, and rigorous training required for the construction of such a garment. Apprenticeship lengths on Savile Row typically range from anywhere between two to six years, with the shorter end usually reserved for those specializing exclusively in the making of trousers. Andrew forged her own unique path through an industry that was historically dominated by an old boys’ network, earning her degree at the London College of Fashion before completing valuable internships at Burberry, Edward Sexton, and Henry Poole.
When I met up with Andrew in New York in mid-September for the final reveal, I could not have been more thrilled with the stunning result. For clients who are unable to make the trip across the Atlantic to London, Andrew maintains a robust and regular trunk-show schedule throughout the United States. Beyond the polished exterior, which is entirely customized to your personal preferences and precise measurements, the hidden internal architecture of a Savile Row suit is truly like nothing you will ever find off the rack. A carefully stitched canvas of horsehair and wool placed between the jacket’s outer fabric and inner lining gradually molds to the wearer’s unique figure over time, ensuring that the garment hangs and moves perfectly while enduring for decades. Furthermore, clever interior seam allowances enable seamless future alterations, providing peace of mind should one’s weight fluctuate.
"Having bespoke means I am never walking into a room wearing the same thing as anyone else. It is timeless," says Dreesman, who particularly enjoys adding individual, personal touches such as incorporating six decorative buttons on her jacket sleeves.
Since my initial meeting with Andrew, much has changed in my professional and personal life. My whirlwind days covering Pitti Uomo are now firmly behind me, and instead of running frantically between shows during Fashion Week, I am navigating the complex maze that is the D&D building as an interior designer—frequently clad in tailoring now that the weather has turned cooler. Curiously, I find myself enjoying the daily process of getting dressed far more than I ever did when fashion was my full-time job. Perhaps it is simply the effortless reliability of suiting, combined with the exciting personal challenge of embracing something entirely new.
