Yesterday, I met the always charming Patrick Grant for breakfast before popping along to his shop on Savile Row, Norton & Sons to have a nosey around. It is beautifully decorated with old, dark furnishings, old leather sofas and plenty of stag heads and antlers; all very manly indeed.
Round the back, there is lots to be discovered. Fabric cuttings litter the floor, creating a collage of navy and slate grey swatches; lengths of white thread run along the worktop, intertwined with various other coloured thread; a mannequin wears a work-in-progress while finished pieces hang from rail upon rail, some of which can only be reached with the assistance of a very long pole and a 6 -foot-something Mr Grant.
The whole idea of a Savile Row tailor is brought to life inside Norton & Sons. The shop conjures a stereotypical gentlemen (of all generations), possibly the only good stereotype out there. It makes me thing of Old Hollywood, of dapper, stylish men who attract beautiful women who move gracefully, curl their hair and leave red lipstick marks around the filter of their cigarettes.
Norton & Sons is bursting at the seams with inspiration, elegance and luxury – I already want to return to curl up on the old leather sofa in a silk slip and fur cape, sipping a saucer of Champagne while I wait for my gentleman’s suit to be expertly fitted.