"Apologies for keeping you waiting," Melvin quickly descended the stairs with a polite smile on his face. With one glance, he saw Andy beaming and a young man seated beside him.
The young man wore a cream-colored t-shirt paired with charcoal jeans. He sported black Vans skate shoes and appeared immaculate, devoid of tattoos, bracelets, or rings—neat and straightforward. His tousled chestnut curls hinted at a certain casual disorder. His handsome features were prominently displayed, and the nonchalant composure in his expression held a hint of youthful brashness. On the coffee table sat a cup of milk and crumbs of biscuits. The warm scent of milk wafted through the air, incongruent with the surrounding atmosphere.
Melvin made a swift assessment. Europe was brimming with such young individuals. The current top-tier models were almost exclusively discovered from these regions—boys and girls from Northern or Central Europe. They possessed handsome features, elegant physiques, and, upon discovery, underwent transformation to grace runways as fashion brands' new darlings. Yet, personally, they lacked significant depth. Most were teenagers who hadn't completed high school. Youth reigned supreme, but with time, they were quickly ousted. If such was the case in the modeling world, the acting realm was even more challenging.
At the very least, in the modeling industry, looks and physique granted one a place, even if fleetingly so. But in the realm of actors, one might not even qualify as a vase—a mere backdrop, lost in the crowd, never to shine.
The Emmy Awards? They were merely TV dramas, and there was never a shortage of newcomers, never a scarcity of meteors in the television drama sphere—crowded to the point of suffocation.
Since this was an insignificant newcomer, it was best to quickly complete this task. After a brief introduction, Melvin immediately delved into the matter. "Well then, let's get busy. This young man needs a suit, right?" Melvin snapped his fingers, and two blonde women wheeled in a clothing rack. Placed in the center of the hall, the rack held an array of clothing that dazzled the eyes.
Renly briefly scanned the collection. He even spotted leopard prints, large florals, and patterns that were distinctly flamboyant, somewhat overwhelming. However, the range of styles was extensive. Even the suit pants were divided into plain front, single pleat, and double pleat options. Vests, shirts, and jackets were all present. Renly knew that the true worth of a suit couldn't be discerned with just the eyes. Every suit had to be tried on. The sensation of an inch more or less was entirely different.
This was why nobles and elites always favored handmade customizations. It wasn't about the style or how exceptional or innovative it was. In terms of fashion, Savile Row's high-end custom suits couldn't keep up with the pace of changing times. But each handmade custom suit fit perfectly, tailored to the individual's body—unique, suitable for various occasions and situations.
"Young man, come over here, stand in the center. I'll assess you as a whole first," Melvin said, eyeing Renly who sat motionless. He knew that the other party must be taken aback by such a grand reception. This kind of setup wasn't commonly seen, and that made Melvin chuckle. It reminded him of his own naivety and awe when he first entered the field.
Renly's forehead displayed three lines. What was with this treating him like a child? But considering he was only twenty years old in this life, he could only accept it. Letting out a slight sigh, he left his seat and walked to the white cylindrical platform in front of the dressing mirror. He relaxedly lifted his arms, presenting himself.
Melvin evaluated him from top to bottom before circling him twice. He muttered under his breath, "With this physique, a medium size should be about right. If it's a small, the shoulders might be a bit narrow. Hmm, let's give it a try." Then, he walked to the clothing rack, quickly scanned it, and once he had an idea, he began examining it closely.
Unless an artist signed an exclusive endorsement deal with a fashion brand, stylists generally established connections with major luxury brands before their official work. They requested a selection of upcoming or newly released products to choose from. The broader their network and the higher their reputation, the more, and better quality sponsorships they secured.
"Try this set on first. It carries a hint of decadence amidst your thin build," Melvin handed over a suit. Renly glanced at Andy with a questioning look. Andy joked aloud, "I know you're not used to wearing suits, but it's a rite of passage."
Renly smiled faintly, saying nothing. He took the suit and entered the changing room.
It was a Dior suit.
After entering the 21st century, Dior's men's division sparked a revolution, truly overturning the traditional norms that men's suits had adhered to for centuries. Under the designs of Hedi Slimane, the suits became slim, well-fitted, sickly, and decadent. The vampire-like qualities pushed the narrow cut to the extreme. It was only suitable for a frail frame reminiscent of a drug addict's, exuding a profound fragility and melancholy, hiding the punk-rock's weathered soul.
Many of the world's top designers started dieting to wear Dior. Originally exclusive to women, it had now extended to men.
However, Hedi left Dior in 2007. After that, Dior's designs became more restricted, losing the vivacity and distinctiveness it once possessed.
After donning the suit and shirt, Renly opened the curtain. Andy and Melvin both directed their gaze at him.
A hint of astonishment unconsciously appeared in Andy's eyes. Indeed, clothes made the man. After changing into the new suit, Renly's demeanor underwent subtle changes. Between his slender yet delicate frame, an indescribable sense of melancholy was present. That distinct London gloom and world-weariness manifested in his features, evoking memories of Eugene Sledge in "The Pacific". Andy couldn't help but imagine how it would look with a beige trench coat.
Melvin also seemed quite satisfied, nodding in approval. "I knew you could pull off this style well." Having glimpsed the rebellious and rock spirit emanating from Renly's previous jeans and skate shoes ensemble, he believed that Dior was the right choice.
However, Renly shook his head. "The shoulders are slightly tight, and there's tension around the ribs. The waist is well-fitted, but the suit part is comparatively loose."
Dior's design was notably slim, almost like a utility pole, from the shoulders to the waist. Renly's shoulders were broader, his chest more developed, so when the shirt accommodated the waist's size, his shoulders and upper body felt too crowded. Opting to accommodate the shoulders would result in a loose waist cut, losing its effect and becoming too spacious.
In simple terms, it didn't fit well.
Melvin stepped forward to check and confirm, surprised at Renly's keen perception. "I can't believe it; you're quite perceptive. A perfectionist, are you?" He sarcastically cracked a joke without much thought, then picked another suit, "Try this one on. It will exude a more dignified and steady style."
Armani.
Renly didn't say much, turning to change into the suit. Armani had been Hollywood's top choice for male actors for a decade. The reason was simple: it was a safe choice. Armani's suit cuts neither leaned too trendy nor too outdated. The design style didn't veer too abrupt or too conservative. It had consistently maintained a style reminiscent of the golden age of classic retro, receiving endless praise. Especially men like George Clooney and Brad Pitt, they always managed to carry off Armani with style.
However, it wasn't suitable for Renly. Although his mental age was over fifty, his physical age was only twenty. The hem of the Armani suit was too long, even wrapping around his hips. This made him look too old and outdated, giving off a bit of a child-playing-dress-up-in-dad's-suit vibe.
Melvin made a couple of rounds, but then nodded in approval. "Very good, I think this set is just perfect!"
Renly was full of question marks. Did he hear wrong? "Your shoulders are broad enough to support the suit's frame. You're tall enough to carry off the whole look. However, the waist here is a bit loose. We can alter the size or even add a waistcoat to make it a three-piece set." Melvin immersed himself in his own world, nodding continuously, thoroughly satisfied with his selection this time.
Listening to Melvin's explanation, Andy gently nodded. Though he knew nothing about fashion or suits, he couldn't help but associate this scene with the top male actors from Hollywood's golden age of the last century.
Back then, actors like Clark Gable, Marlon Brando, James Dean, Montgomery Clift, and many others exuded a deadly charm that left people in awe. The primitive technology of the time couldn't retouch or enhance them. It genuinely presented the actors' original appearances. Besides their looks, the temperament they had accumulated became an eternal classic on the screen.
However, that golden era's charm was now irretrievable. The reason people revered George Clooney so much was because they found this kind of mature and retro temperament in him.
Now, as Andy watched Renly change into this Armani suit, he felt that he could faintly detect a similar feeling. However, this feeling was somewhat contradictory because Renly was genuinely too young. The kind of experience that came with the passage of time and hardships presented a taste that didn't quite match his age.
So, Andy wasn't entirely sure if it was a good thing. But if Melvin said it was "perfect". then it should be.
Renly lifted his right hand high. Generally, a well-fitted suit was relatively reserved. Lifting the hand to shoulder level or below would feel constrained, and the hem would reveal the belt and shirt inside, which would be quite impolite. But now, he raised it higher and higher. Renly had already lifted his right hand above his head, and his elbow remained quite flexible. Of course, the shirt was still visible.
He looked at Melvin, a puzzled expression on his face, "Isn't this a sign that the size is too big?"
Melvin's smile on his face froze slightly.
The chupster was relatively easy, but sorry, I was bogged down by the description of tailoring. I tried to restore everything as faithfully as I could, but if you find something jarring please do point it out, well if you know a thing or two about dresses and tailoring that is.
The song of the chupster is "Breakdlaw ft. The Glitchfox - Paint Me Like A French Girl (Max Manie & Scheinizzl Aka Maniezzl Remix)
The chupster is here for you to consume, so... yeah, go and consume. I said consume, what are you waiting for. Go for it, suckers!