I want to be a WAG
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2007
1
21
26
Trip End
Nov 20, 2007
Hoi An,
Vietnam
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Up early and take a short boat trip to the mainland, then 3 hours on a bus back to Nha Trang. In the day light you can see just how bad the road is in places, lots of potholes, and in many places it's so bad that the bus driver was going along on the wrong side of the road! Scary stuff playing chicken with the other drivers.
At Nha Trang airport it was only a short wait until our flight on a small Airbus to Da Nang airport. Da Nang itself is the fourth largest city in Vietnam with around 700,000 inhabitants. The transfer to Hoi An took maybe 45 minutes but we were all sardined on to a tiny bus, so the journey was cosy and intimate.
Hoi An
To my delight, it was actually dry in Hoi An when we arrived at around 2pm and the centre of the town was being cleared up after the 8' high flood. Floods are bad news, though, especially when the road drainage system is primitive at best. There was mud and silt everywhere and it was pretty stinky. Some roads by the river were still flooded, and people were getting around by boat. Any garbage that was floating around was being quickly cleaned up, and all-in-all, the clean-up after the flood was very efficient. But this is the monsoon season and they have contingency plans for such events.
Now, I'm not one to shop, I don't even buy souvenirs usually on my travels, but maybe there was something in the air because I went shopping crazy. I could rival the most shopaholic WAG on the planet! Michele and I made straight for a tailor that had been recommended to us, and it was heaven/ hundreds of bolts of fabric in every colour imaginable, and even some you just couldn't being or want to imagine: cottons, plain and patterned silks, cashmere; chiffons; linens and on and on forever.
My vendeuse was a young lady who called herself Susan; I'm sure she chose this name to make it easier for her clients, for all the vendeauses had English names. First, we discussed what I wanted made, then I looked through the appropriate books with photos and pictures of clothes to select designs. If I'd been properly prepared, I'd have drawn some designs in England and brought them with me. That said, I had no problem in describing what I wanted. Designs selected, we went in search of the perfect fabrics.
Each bolt of fabric was labelled with a price in US dollars. This price, Susan explained to me, included the cost of the fabric, cutting and making of the garment. I wish it worked that way in England at my tailor's! so, the first selection was easy; I chose an English cashmere in black with a very subtle pinstripe. And in that I'm having made pants, a skirt and a waistcoat. Smart but not severe. Next I went in search of the perfect cotton for a shirt. The first cottons Susan showed me were nice but not for me; crisp poplins and sheer lawns in plain colours. I explained I wanted subtle patterns and stripes so we went up to the stockroom. Boy, Heaven, so much fabric. I wanted hundreds of shirts. In the end I settled on a soft eau-de-nil, a pale blue, and a whit with small stripes.
Now, as if that wasn't enough luxury for one girl to handle, I had one final indulgence: a silky raincoat. I think the tailor may have trouble interpreting the design I want but I'm sure it'll be gorgeous, no matter what. I asked for something very flared and floaty with lots of fabric but I think it'll be straight and dimple. As always with me, the coat will be black but the lining will be a silver grey. If I had a couple ore days I'd probably end up with more coats with crazy coloured linings, so good job I'm here for only two nights. James - if you're reading this, sigh with relief because we're not yet bankrupt after my fit of insanity!
The next stop in the tailoring process is measurements. Susan took hundreds of measurements to ensure that each garment would be a perfect fit for me. I asked about her training and she told me that it takes about four months to learn to take measurements correctly. Also part of the training is eliciting from the client what she or he wants and gently guiding them away from huge fashion disasters. I think this makes sense because the client may refuse to pay for finished garments if she or he hates how they look. Susan had been a vendeuse at Yaly for four years, and she was expert in her job.
Lastly, I met the tailors who would be working on my garments. This happens, I think, so that they can see your size and body shape so the garments are cut to fit individual quirks, not standard sizes. Photos completed the process; front, side, and rear views. I felt as though I should be holding up my prison number: those women on "Prisoner: Cell Block H" have nothing on me in looking grim and hard, and I'm sure they didn't pong as much as me.
The tailoring process is very similar to other tailors I've used when I've lived or travelled overseas. It's almost an illicit pleasure to make your design, select your fabric and know that it'll be fitted expertly for your body; something unique and beautiful just for me. I'm still wearing a coat I had made four years ago when I lived in Beijing and I love it madly even now.
Next, Michele and I found a shoemaker and described what we wanted made. I opted for a pair of black boots that definitely fall in the 'fuck me' category. Shoe-making, Hoi An style, is fun. Socks and boots off, the cobbler draws around your foot to get an exact copy of your foot. For me, lots of pen marks down my legs for width measurements to make the boots fit perfectly - I hope! Next, discussions about materials and buckles, and finally a deposit paid.
Boy, I'm all shopped out! Surprisingly all of this took only three and a half hours including walking between the tailor and cobbler and back to the hotel. I wish life were so simple back in Higham Ferrers where I feel I'm battling with my dressmaker over just one frock!
