Timothy Everest hopes he has a solution to Greek crisis: a very good suit
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Version 0 of 1. Timothy Everest can rightly claim to have dressed some of the world’s most powerful men. His client list reads like a who’s who of the rich and famous. Sir Mick Jagger, Tom Cruise and David Beckham are all Everest men. So, too, are Ralph Fiennes and Benedict Cumberbatch, as well as George Osborne and Gordon Brown. But ever since Everest was an apprentice on Savile Row with Tommy Nutter – the man who dressed the Beatles and the Rolling Stones in the 1960s – the Welsh-born tailor has been prone to thinking outside of the box. It is, he says, what has drawn the likes of Tracey Emin to his often irreverent creations at the forefront of the “New Bespoke Movement”. And, in the same spirit, it is why, more recently, he appeared on the mezzanine floor of a high-end boutique in Athens conducting fittings. “I am very passionate about the history of British tailoring but I’m also a great believer in subverting tradition,” he says, adding that this could account for why he has also been the costume designer on films as diverse as Atonement, Mission Impossible, Eyes Wide Shut and Mama Mia! “At times like this, in a city like Athens, you can either carry on or give up. A good suit will encourage you to do the first.” Everest recognises that doing business in the capital at the heart of the eurozone crisis may seem odd. The tailor’s goal – one he has pursued since being identified with “Cool Britannia” in the mid-90s – is to redefine the modern wardrobe. One of his handmade jackets requires 42 hours to sew and, like most of his garments, does not come cheap. “It would be grotesque if this were about people coming in and purchasing three bespoke suits,” he says. But although his atelier in London’s East End would appear to be a world away, it was his image and famous client list that adorned the vitrine of the Mah Jong boutique in Athens’ Kolonaki district in the run-up to Christmas, attracting a steady clientele. Those who appeared determined to buy one of Everest’s “investment pieces” included lawyers, jewellers, company owners, fashion designers and bankers. “Life goes on,” says Themistoklis Zygourakis after ordering a three-piece suit in Prince of Wales check. “You may think it makes no sense to pay €3,000, the equivalent of six or seven salaries, for a suit, but I have worked 40 years and deserve to have a good suit. And as my father would say, ‘we are not so rich we can buy cheap things’,” he says, brandishing a pair of English brogues. “I bought these shoes 20 years ago and they are as good as new. It makes much more sense, economically, to buy well once, than several times.” Zygourakis, who runs an import company trading pulp, paper, ink and chemicals, is the first to say that Greece has never seemed in such a bad way. Six years of recession – the worst in post-war history – have left the thrice bailed-out country hollowed out, a flicker of its former self. In years gone by, the businessman would have visited an Athenian tailor but after the nation’s brush with bankruptcy almost none can afford to stock expensive fabrics. “It is dreadful what lies ahead of us,” Zygourakis says. “Everything is in ruins. The middle class is completely destroyed. The infrastructure of our society is breaking down.” But crises also offer opportunity. The secret to success, he says, is to “run counter” to everything – starting with the purchase of a suit. “You hire more, you raise salaries, you enlarge your business, you do the opposite of what everyone else does. A good suit has good psychological value. It helps to keep you going.” Everest, who can still recall Britain’s recession in the early 1980s, echoes that view. With its soaring poverty levels and rise in homelessness and graffiti-splattered buildings – the tell-tale signs of inequality – Greece is not dissimilar. “Back then you had to be creative, you had to keep smiling,” Everest says, recollecting how the companies that took risks and “pushed harder” ended up surviving while other businesses shut down and unemployment rocketed. “There was such despondency and negativity but either you pushed harder or you battened down the hatches and waited for things to happen, by which time the market had moved on.” While Ilias Vlachakis, Mah Jong’s architect owner, knows his clients are high end, the super-rich (and the simply wealthy) have been insulated from the depredations endured by the vast majority. While ostentation is eschewed – given the ever widening gap between rich and poor – the elite still dine well, enjoy Porsches, yachts and holidays in Gstaad, all helped in part by an unerring ability to evade taxes. Last year, more than €43bn in deposits left Greek banks – much of it attributed to the wealthy whisking their assets abroad. Eurostat, the EU’s statistical office, put those “at risk” of poverty at 23% in 2012 – since then, levels have soared. So Vlachakis’s decision to bring one of Britain’s leading gentleman tailors to Athens in such hard times was not without risk. “This is not about flamboyance, it’s about elegance,” he says. “We are all trying very hard in a very difficult situation.” The gambit worked: demand is such that Everest will be back in Athens in the spring. |