My understanding of bespoke tailoring has shifted significantly over the years. Initially, I believed that the joy of bespoke garments hinged solely on their physical completion. I’ve come to realize that the true satisfaction lies in deeper, subtler aspects—those memories, the process of repetition, and the way that each piece starts to embody distinct moments of life.
The first bespoke suit I owned was pivotal in this understanding. Although it wasn’t flawless upon receipt, it radiated authenticity. Its fabric softened over time, the silhouette settled, and it transformed into an everyday companion rather than just a prized possession. This reflects the essence of what bespoke tailoring accomplishes.
Today, I share my journey through the world of Florentine tailoring, marking the third installment of a series dedicated to this subject. This series began with an exploration of Italian cuts and my preference for Florentine styles. The second article delved into the rich culture surrounding Florence’s exceptional tailoring and its unique allure. Now, I’ll review various Florentine pieces crafted by five distinguished tailors.
This segment naturally becomes more personal and perhaps a bit indulgent. I do not intend to catalog my possessions but rather illustrate why these garments carry significant emotional weight—beyond just fabric and tailoring finesse.
Initially drawn to menswear by constraint, those same limitations honed my perception. Working in the industry later revealed to me the virtue of patience. While my enthusiasm sometimes challenged my patience, I now feel immense gratitude for where I am and the choices that shaped my wardrobe.
My journey with Liverano began in New York during a fitting in 2018. At that time, Qemal Selimi was starting his own atelier, while Antonio Liverano was making his first appearances with his team in years. It felt like fate was guiding my decision to start this journey.
By the time the team arrived, I had a clear vision of what I wanted. Having previously attended trunk shows, I had already explored their exquisite swatch books filled with antimicrobial deadstock and vintage fabrics.
I was advised by Alan See to commission a complete suit and follow in his footsteps, as he’d spent years building a wardrobe focused on suits rather than sport coats.
My aim was to create something that would mature alongside me, durable enough to endure regular wear. Ultimately, we chose a deep navy Dormeuil Sportex, milled specifically for Liverano, inspired by fabrics from their storied archive.
Having seen it tailored into a sport coat for both Bruce Boyer and Dick Carroll, I opted for a waistcoat, transforming it into a three-piece in the traditional Liverano style. And just like that, it was set.
When Antonio inquired about my age through the translator Taka, I proudly shared that I was 23. His pause and smile hinted at a shared understanding of how monumental this moment was for me. I confessed that ordering my first Liverano suit felt surreal.
That precious interaction remains captured in a photograph I frequently revisit—not necessarily out of nostalgia but as a reminder of the importance that first step marked in my tailor journey.
Upon receiving my fitting box ahead of the February trunk show, I rushed to try it on, even doing a quick fitting alongside my colleague Jim, who was simultaneously having a tuxedo crafted.
This initial fitting led to a series of changes as I aimed for a broader, more V-shaped silhouette. The first and second fittings revealed a clear transformation, evident in the photographs taken during each session.
Antonio maximized learning opportunities throughout, instructing Vittorio during the fitting while also sharing insights on color and pattern coordination.
Three months later, my suit finally arrived. During the fitting check, Taka beamed and predicted, “The next one will be even better.” His words proved true. What came next were not just additional garments but richer relationships—fewer questions and greater understanding emerged.
I later ordered a gray suit made from a lightweight high-twist fabric by Wain Sheill from Liverano’s archive. I needed only one fitting after establishing a pattern, initially meeting in February 2019, and then receiving the suit in November 2020.
My latest addition was the Liverano Ulster, a coat I’d long admired on Alan See, Ethan Newton, Mark Cho, Simon Crompton, and Jeff Hilliard, who once called it his favorite article of clothing.
The initial fitting took place over Zoom, and I finally received the coat in April 2021, but I had to wait six more months to wear it. The anticipation was worthwhile. I traveled with it across the UK and Italy and can’t wait to don it every autumn.
By late 2021, I ordered two sport coats—one in blue, the other in a golden brown—thinking I was nearing my limit. With two suits, two sport coats, and one overcoat, I felt satisfied.
Alan’s guidance to prioritize suits made perfect sense at the beginning; it echoed his lifestyle as a shop owner managing client relationships. He routinely wore tailored garments in formal settings.
However, my own lifestyle diverged. I didn’t wear a suit daily; instead, I gravitated toward a more casual wardrobe of denim, shirts, and jackets. While Alan’s foundational pieces extended to 10 or 12 suits, mine ultimately numbered three or four. Beyond that, additional suits contributed less than versatile sport coats, which could be integrated into my daily life.
Realizing my own style would take time. Initially, I focused on what I admired rather than what I genuinely wore. As my vision developed, my wardrobe leaned towards casual tailoring, subtly shifting my interest.
Pragmatically, I understood that my ongoing access to Liverano, through The Armoury, was temporary. I consciously built a collection designed to last beyond my favorable circumstances.
When my blue jacket arrived, I noticed that its herringbone fabric would have suited a suit better. While there’s a fine line between mixing jackets and trousers, this particular fabric’s sheen prompted that realization. Thankfully, since it was a VBC stock fabric, I easily ordered matching trousers later.
That December, I joined my friend Jeff at a fitting with Kotaro Miyahira of Corcos in New York. Kotaro, known for his long waitlists, graciously permitted me to place an order. I recognized that I couldn’t solely rely on Liverano moving forward, and even with Corcos at full price, their offerings remained competitive.
I chose a taupe lightweight flannel jacket and grey flannel trousers, intending to have a suit pattern on file for future orders. Although Kotaro’s approach required two fittings for every new order, it was a small sacrifice to gain access to his exceptional work.
My experience with various Florentine tailors was not simply a quest for the ultimate cut. Instead, it became an exploration of differing representations of the same rich tradition. Liverano stood as the pinnacle—financially and emotionally—yet came with constraints like longer timelines and limited fabric options.
In contrast, Qemal attracted me due to his association with many admired pieces from the past decade, having crafted for legends like Alan, Ethan, and Simon. With Vittorio, it was more about timing and trusting his unique artistic direction after breaking away to establish his own studio.
Corcos presents its own unique interpretation: precise, clean, and infused with the meticulousness often associated with Japanese craftsmanship. Each tailor brought something different to the table, enriching my understanding of this world.
My first trip to Florence occurred in May 2022. Entering Antonio’s atelier was almost mystical—a space I had only seen in pictures. Not only did I have fittings for sport coats but also alterations for my grey suit that had shifted with my body during the pandemic.
I also met Qemal Selimi during this visit, who was contemplating a trip to New York. Maybe it was the enchanting atmosphere of Florence, but I decided to order a heavy tweed houndstooth jacket from him.
In retrospect, I wish I had given more focus to fabric variety. I accrued several jackets that served similar purposes, largely because I was drawn to rare or aesthetically striking fabrics—especially vintage finds that felt singular.
Acknowledging my transient access—both financially and geographically—motivated me to curate a collection meant to stand the test of time. However, this mindset might not apply universally. Were I to start anew, I would approach more slowly, concentrating on fabric weight and intended use while allowing time for each piece to prove its worth.
Two months following this trip, I returned to Florence during Pitti. Wanting a memento from my visit, I explored Liverano’s fabric collections and discovered an untouched cashmere-silk bolt that he hinted Taka may have been reserving for himself. I couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.
Despite my collaborations with other tailors, Liverano remained my cornerstone. It established my initial pattern, instilled confidence, and deeply influenced my aesthetic judgment. The archive’s breadth, along with the color palettes and operations, turned it into a steadfast reference point—serving as a compass while exploring new options.
During that very trip, I had a fitting with Kotaro for my taupe jacket and began contemplating a summer jacket, a topic I discussed in part two of this series.
Upon returning to New York in September 2022, I received my first jacket from Corcos. Its precision was remarkable. In the months that followed, I juggled fittings with Qemal, awaited deliveries from Liverano, and completed my checkered jacket fittings.
The jacket crafted by Kotaro emerged as the finest in my collection. The detailing surpassed that of Liverano, showcasing a refinement resulting from his time spent in the Ring Jacket factory, honing an extraordinary attention to detail that is standard in many Japanese tailoring houses.
By ‘precision,’ I mean tangible qualities—higher stitch density that remains pristine after wear; streamlined, refined welted pockets; precise pattern alignment across seams; an overall sharpness rooted in meticulous measurement over improvisational cuts. Corcos’s garments suggest a systematic approach that contrasts with Antonio’s more intuitive style—both equally valuable but distinct in their philosophies.
My first jacket from Qemal arrived in January 2023 after a mere seven months—considerably quicker than Liverano or Corcos. His approach contrasted sharply with Liverano’s, where he prefers the older styles characterized by broader lapels and shoulder structures.
Later that same month, I prepared for a trip to Milan for the Milano Unica fabric show, carrying along many of my new winter jackets.
This trip introduced me to a collector who had accumulated vintage fabric bolts from retired Milanese tailors. I ended up purchasing several, despite not knowing who would craft them—I would soon be in Florence with fabric in hand.
After arriving in Florence early that morning, my first stop was at Corcos, where I secured a taupe sharkskin to be tailored as a suit. A short walk away led me to Liverano, where I left behind a brown tweed for a sport coat and a Prince-of-Wales flannel for a double-breasted suit. Finally, I visited Seminara’s workshop, and Vittorio Salino—now under Gianni’s mentorship—agreed to make the green tweed into a sport coat.
Four fabric bolts. Three tailors. One day.
This seamless experience felt almost effortless—an appreciation I gained in hindsight. I now recognize that it marked the natural conclusion of that exciting phase.
Recreating that experience may be challenging—not only due to the costs involved but also because it signified the culmination of my tailored journey. During that period, everything felt organically effortless because I had solid relationships, established patterns, and mounting confidence. In retrospect, such moments often indicate a need for a more measured pace.
For those interested in exploring Florentine tailoring, each atelier uniquely contributes to this rich landscape. Liverano stands out for clients who appreciate a comprehensive experience—especially if they can visit Florence—coupled with extensive archival options and a discerning eye for colors.
Corcos embodies a contemporary, refined take on Florentine tailoring, characterized by a thorough and careful method.
Conversely, Qemal Selimi is ideal for those who prefer a quicker process and a collaborative environment, fostering a dialogue that prioritizes iterative refinement. Finally, Seminara epitomizes age-old traditions—small-scale craftsmanship, more ample silhouettes, and a method that remains largely unchanged across decades—intimate, personal, and unconcerned with passing trends or optimization.
Vittorio Salino also offers a fresh take, merging Liverano’s finishes with the more robust proportions gleaned from his training at Seminara.
Starting with a piece from any of these tailors is a good introduction, allowing one to appreciate each atelier’s approach. It’s essential to observe how their philosophies become apparent once the garment enters daily life. Lastly, considerations like pricing and convenience play a significant role in the decision-making process.
In the subsequent months, fittings transitioned into deliveries. Jackets were sent, suits completed, and gradually the pace of acquisition slowed.
When I married in 2024, I wore a tuxedo that I had envisioned for years. That year, I added only a single new suit—a deep blue, high-twist two-ply crafted by Qemal Selimi. Since then, I’ve chosen to incorporate less while wearing more, valuing how each piece integrates into my life.
I do see elements in my early pieces I would adjust if I could. For instance, the buttoning point on my second suit leans a touch high and the trousers sit slightly higher than my current preference. At that time, I endeavored to steer clear of the low-rise, slim trousers often associated with earlier Liverano work—an issue remedied since.
Additionally, I’ve gradually nudged my team toward broader lapels and lower button placements, akin to the jackets I admired a decade ago. These are less about regret and more about markers on my journey of understanding. I’m grateful to own them and happy to live with those decisions.
Throughout the years, I’ve had the opportunity to wear my tailored pieces regularly. I believe I am exceptionally fortunate not to harbor any major bespoke regrets while collaborating with some of the finest tailors in the craft.
I still frequently reach for my first bespoke suit. It has grown familiar, softening with time and wear. I feel no urgency to replace it or enhance it; instead, I find satisfaction in reaching a point where my wardrobe responds effortlessly to my lifestyle.
Were I to commission another piece, it would likely be a navy sport coat from Kotaro. A mid-weight navy hopsack with a dry finish and no sheen cut as a true sport coat, complemented by his signature slim silver buttons.
The flannel double-breasted piece from Liverano has also become a staple for me, and commissioning something lighter would simply enhance this concept. If I ventured this route, I’d consider Vittorio—to not seek novelty but to delve into our shared appreciation for traditional Florentine techniques, viewed through his progressive lens.
That I still feel indecisive after numerous commissions does not trouble me. Quite the opposite, it feels just right. It indicates that my journey remains open-ended, allowing space for curiosity, patience, and thoughtful pauses before making new orders.
