“You Gotta Get a Guy”
Turns out, I don’t have the lean physique of a 22-year-old anymore, and maybe it’s time to buy a new suit. Or as Kate delicately put it, “I’d like to bring you back to the East Coast and not hate your clothes.”
So we went suit shopping.
I had resigned myself to the suit exploration phase to last a few weeks before we made a decision. Our first stop was a bicycle ride to our local J. Crew. I figured they were a good benchmark of what was in style, and perhaps we could find something that fit the budget.
I really want to like J. Crew, but if you’ve read anything by me you know that I’m a huge stickler for service, and that pendulum swings both ways. I could have the worst meal of my life, but if the waitstaff is friendly, I’ll tip well. Our experience at J. Crew was comically bad.
We went to the upstairs section of the store and spent 10 or so minutes tugging at suits before someone came up to us. I’m not saying we needed attention immediately, but the floor wasn’t busy at all. Finally, an attendant came up to us and asked what we were looking for.
Kate explained we were in the market for a suit and gave a rundown. He asked if I knew my measurements, handed me a jacket, then told me to find him if I wanted to ring anything up. The best part was that he had a broken hand. I asked him what had happened and he said that he had a punched a door.
“Acting” he said and then slinked away.
Kate and I made a fast exit, and I was ready to be done for the day. Her perseverance prevailed and we rode our bikes to Bloomingdale’s.
“I want you to see what good suits look like.”
We wandered into the store, found the suit section, and started perusing through jackets. In 17 seconds a man came up to us and introduced himself as Atta, and with aplomb he said,
“I’m the suit specialist in the store. How can I help you?”
Boom. Sold. We explained our predicament, and he sagely nodded his gentle eyes. Laying that tranquil gaze upon me, he (correctly) guessed my measurements, then grabbed two suits and directed Kate and me to a dressing room that was bigger than some apartments in New York City.
Atta is a good suit salesman. The first suit he gave me was a Hugo Boss suit. I put it on, turned to Kate, and watched her have an immediate physical and emotional reaction, in the best way.
“Oh my” she gasped.
Well shit. That’s the kind of reaction that one wants when you’re looking to get a new suit. The second suit was excellent as well, but we both knew which suit we wanted. Too bad it was way out of my price range, roughly the cost of a New York apartment.
I did a fashion show for Atta, and he complimented me, but then I told him it was too much.
“Let me see what I can do” Atta murmured.
AND THEN MY BOY TOOK 40% OFF.
This wasn’t a swap meet. This wasn’t craigslist. This was Bloomingdale’s. You don’t haggle at Bloomingdale’s. You don’t get 40% off just by asking at Bloomingdale’s.
Unless of course, you’re in the helpful hands of Atta.
Now I’ve got a great suit, and I’m open to appearances. How much so? I wore it to the airport to pick up Kate, looking like a really sexy Uber driver.
If you need a suit, I’ve got the perfect guy.
Buying a Suit – 4 out of 5 Stars