Italy to New York: a family of tailors

My grandpa was what you might gently call a pack-rat. There's no doubt that Mike Wolfe from American Pickers would be all over his basement and garage. I loved visiting my dad's father as a child because I could spent hours exploring a basement full of toys and machines from the 1940's and 50's.

One day while my brother and I puttered around in that  musty old cellar, we stumbled upon the strangest table I had ever seen. It looked like a small desk, but you could flip over the wooden top and an old sewing machine made an appearance! I did not grow up around people sewing or using sewing machines, so I was completely riveted.
When we ran upstairs to tell grandpa what we had "found", he told us it had belonged to his parents, and he told us their story. They sailed across the ocean from Italy to New York at the turn of the century, and upon arriving to the land of opportunity they opened up a shop in New York as tailors for men.

My paternal great grandparents  

As an adult, it haunted me that I had never learned to sew.  A few years ago, one of my resolutions was that I WOULD  learn to sew and I would pick up the torch, so the speak, where my great-grandparents left off.  And so New York to Nashville was born. I know  I am carrying on a family tradition every day that I work.

A Tale of Two Squares

When I started making pocket squares last year, there were not many retailers pushing them like they are now.  I fell in love with them after seeing an old painting with a gentleman nonchalantly wearing a pocket square, and became adamant about bringing them back to mainstream fashion. There is something awfully convenient about them, and just think about how they completely brighten a shirt or jacket- the perfect blend of form + function.

With the influx of brands getting on board, one thing I have noticed are some retailers differentiating between "hankies" or "pocket squares". I'm befuddled; should I have started NY to Nashville Handcrafted Hankies? I am a sucker for alliteration after all.

Yet,  when I think of a hankie, I often think of someone pulling out a wadded ball of linen from their pocket, blowing their nose and shoving the ever-dirty wad back in their pocket. They might even try to wipe your face with it after all of that.  A pocket square is  the more distinguished, put-together of the two brothers. The brother who always had on a clean shirt, a tidy face, and a penchant for poetry. Or at least that's how it seems to me.

In Tennessee, take the long way home

Perhaps the thing I love the most about Nashville is actually what is just outside of Nashville. On this particular morning, I only meant to stop at a friend's house and come right home, but instead of heading back on the highway, I decided to take a new  route back.

One Tennessee back road led to another, and almost 50 miles later, I found myself at a quintessential small town general store.  The crooked wooden shelves stored oil cans next to tinned fish and twinkies, and that was my cue to start looking around. These old general stores are full of surprises, but I was still surprised to stumble upon a perfectly weathered vintage buffalo plaid shirt.

It was next to a pile of dusty but new cowboy hats--laying there ruggedly folded and ignored for far too long. Was it for sale? Well, the shopkeeper said everything was, so he 'sposed I could have it.

  Our red and black buffalo plaid pocket squares tell the story of the shirt they came from--and hopefully they will remind you to sometimes take the long way home.