Georgian Gentleman. 11 May 2012 Suits you Sir!

A peak behind the closed doors of a very fitting location.

 

My love (for which read obsession) for Georgian houses is well documented and heavily indulged. I live in a small one; we, at The Corner Shop, work in a big one and my regular walking and cycling route to work has, subconsciously, taken the form of a tour of Georgian London from Barnsbury, through Bloomsbury, to Great Queen Street. This morning though, my excitement peaked as I joined my intended at a 9am wedding suit fitting.

One of the great experiences of a privileged life is having a suit made. The rituals, the quiet precision and consideration of a tailor, the very serious discussions about the smallest detail and the reverence with which the materials are handled, and decisions made, are a rite of passage. Imagine then how my enjoyment, albeit vicarious on this occasion, was enhanced by the utterly beautiful premises that Timothy Everest and his team occupy on Elder Street in Shoreditch.

We’re familiar with the street, a beautiful gem in the middle of the City towers, through our friends at The Future Laboratory who occupy two adjoining houses at 26, but today was my first visit behind the door of number 32 and in to the sanctuary that Everest has created.

The faded, counter-intuitively dark colours, the sash windows, the wobbly floor boards and staircases, the muted rugs, the lack of artificial light aside from a candle here and there and the sparse and simple furniture - all of the hallmarks of the ‘style’ - are present but strangely enhanced by the presence of suits, and pins, and reels of coloured threads. It is the perfect atmospheric fusion of form and function. Seeing a suit hang on the back of a door, a mirror in the corner and a tie on a shelf feels intimate but not invasive, like we have wandered in to the house of gentleman after he has left for work (or for a cocktail at the Savoy).

This may suggest that this is design for design’s sake but, on the contrary, it has absolute integrity and comes from the heart and is therefore the perfect metaphor, and location, for this rite to take place. 

Ryan Petersen


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