"Where will we go now?" When Giuseppe the Roman Tailor closes his shop at the end of October, after 44 years in West Vancouver, who, his customers wonder, will look after their clothes?
"My mother decided she wanted a pair of pants, made to measure," says one customer. "I can see mother, in her 80s, standing in her silk long johns while Giuseppe took her measurements. She wore those pants forever."
How did they choose Giuseppe with so many tailors on the North Shore? "Ah, but they weren't Giuseppe."
There may be a tape measure or two somewhere in Giuseppe's shop but once he has his customer's measurements, his go-to tool is a small piece of chalk for marking fabric. "Some people, they like to have the tape measure and everything written down. That's value for them. I learned in the good cities, Brescia, Milan, Rome. I measure by looking," the master tailor explains.
Every day, a steady stream of customers and friends - Giuseppe doesn't distinguish between the two - flows through the shop at 1348 Marine Dr. Suits, slacks, summer dresses, every garment is sorted according to Giuseppe's mysterious system. Payment for finished pieces may be deferred with a wave of Giuseppe's hand or waived altogether. When a price is quoted, some customers insist on paying more.
One such customer is grateful to Giuseppe for reviving his tuxedo. In the years since the evening suit was made for him, it had somehow not expanded to accommodate the owner's increased girth. "That tuxedo needed letting out everywhere and I needed it that night. I had heard of Giuseppe and brought the suit to him in the morning. When I returned later that day, the tuxedo fit perfectly."
Like so many others, this customer learned about Giuseppe through the grapevine. He has never advertised. "In Italy, the houses that sell wine had grape leaves in front of their doors. Others don't need the leaves. People know where the best wine is."
He was born near Naples in 1944, in a village where his parents had a farm. When Giuseppe reached school age, he started working also, keeping the local tailor's iron hot by blowing on the charcoal fire.
Giuseppe's apprenticeship in the craft of tailoring continued in Brescia, where his brother was a policeman, in Milan and in Rome during his military service. At 24, he left home, like his brothers and sisters had done, to find a better life. He landed in Halifax and made his way, without a word of English, to Vancouver where another brother, Vittorio, worked as a machinist.
Giuseppe found work at Jack's Cleaners in Dundarave (now Western Cleaners) and married Maria Angelillo, whom he had met at the Italian Melody dance hall on Commercial Drive. By 1970, Giuseppe was established in his own shop and the family was living in West Vancouver, a move designed, vainly, to help cut down his hours.
All went well for the next 40 years. Giuseppe kept to his routine, starting at 6 a.m. after a walk on Ambleside Beach. A photograph from that time shows Giuseppe in the shop, plying his trade amid mountains of fabric built up through the geology of decades. "He's the hardest working person I know. He's at the shop every day, even on Sundays. It's a lifestyle for him," says son Mike.
There was time, however, for coffee with friends, for games of bocce on summer evenings and for looking after his family. Giuseppe and Maria built a new house, their three sons grew into manhood, business was good. Then, on a morning in 2011, fire swept through the shop.
In the year it took to restore the business, Giuseppe worked from home, in a corner of the laundry room. Most customers were unconcerned that their clothes were destroyed by fire; their priority was Giuseppe. Colleagues too, Dominic Palaia of London Tailor and Cesare Lanzi from North Vancouver, shared equipment and helped keep the business going.
He's been called "the man with the golden stitch" but Giuseppe Dente is more than a gifted tailor. It's the gift of friendship, which he shares most generously, that his customers don't want to lose.
Laura Anderson works with and for seniors on the North Shore. 778-279-2275 [email protected]
