I was in a foul mood when I went to my tailor today. Life seemed like a dreadful, oozing stupidity. The one we like often does not like us and the one we do not like often does. Life should fit like a suit. It never does, you know. Never will either.

But, when I entered Mr. Lee’s office at Trend Custom Tailors and tried on my suit for the first time, I relaxed and cheered up. It’s not retail therapy. I’ve heard of that and I regard it with abhorrence. Adults should not shop their problems away. They should drug them away. If they cannot do that, they should solve them.

Yet, we are sometimes faced with an insolvable problem. Then it’s important to remember that some things remain in our control and can be solved. It’s these things that we must direct our mind to. Life may not fit like a suit but a suit can fit like a suit. That should be enough for anyone. It was certainly enough for me.

Mr. Lee is a genius. I do not just toss that word around. Too many people do.

Looking at the suit he has constructed, even in its rough form, I am convinced of his craft. Utterly convinced. He took my vague instructions –I do not want to look like a business man or a lawyer; Nothing fashionable or superfluous; Emphasize my height and thinness– and created exactly what I wanted. He did so with even greater concision than I had imagined it.

I have often thought that any decent waiter can spot and correctly diagnose a mental problem within a minute and then alter their service to suit it. Mr. Lee has this same ability, doubtlessly honed by a similar necessity. He has some window into my mind that I lack. He sees what I want even better than I. Most people cannot see me at all. I get in the way.

Perhaps this is why a dodgey fellow like myself has been extended a line of credit.

He must know that he’s found a dedicated client, one who sees dressing as a highly philosophical issue, perhaps more important than any other artistic or literary form. It may be the sheerest vanity, but I like to think that he enjoys my patronage. A woman who works there and is under his learned tutelage claims that my suit is her favourite.

I imagine, though I don’t know, that many of the people who come to him are businessmen or lawyers, looking to dress for an event or meeting of some kind. This could only be a limitation upon his talent.

For while I’m certain that he excels at including the social aspect in clothing, it’s vital that a tailor of his caliber be freed from the dry and dead rules of convention. A suit need only deal with its internal logic and the man who wears it; just as an owl’s body only deals with the owl.  Mr. Lee’s special talent is that he can see this. His craft is that he can act upon it.

If only I could employ his talent in the difficult task of fashioning my life.