GRECIAN SHOES
What comes with each of these master craftsmen is a long history and tradition. None of these tailors attended a four-year school or training course to learn their craft; they have spent their lives mastering their profession. Many of them were sent off at an age between 8 and 12 to apprentice with an experienced professional in the trade.
Calautti and Papazian come from families that have worked in tailoring for generation. But for Christos Soillis of Felix’s Shoe Repair, his initiation into tailoring was less than straightforward. Soillis has been working with shoes since he was 11 years old, when he left his natal village to find work. In another town, Soillis was looking for a place to sleep when he found two neighboring buildings, one for a cobbler and one for a tailor. He knocked on the first door and asked if he could simply sleep in the doorway, but the owner insisted he must come in and stay with his family. Soillis stayed with them, and felt obligated to work in return for the family’s hospitality, even though his initial desire was not to be a shoemaker. “When I was a boy, I always dreamed of being a tailor,” he says. “I never had good clothes, so I thought I could make suits and have nice clothes.” His host offered to find him work at the tailor’s next door, but the young Soillis refused, saying he would rather work in his host’s shoe store. Soillis’s story is present in every bit of work and skill he invests in a pair of shoes. For Soillis, tailoring is more than a paycheck; it is a way of life and an art form to be honored.
Many of these artisans have been in the Cambridge-Boston area for decades, becoming integral parts of the communities. Soillis came to the United States in 1963, and began working in the original Felix’s Shoe Repair in Harvard Square. In 1969, he bought the business from its original owner, and he has owned and operated the business in Harvard Square to this day. “I grew up without shoes or good clothes, and I came here with nothing. And a kid with no money, no education, can come here and grow a business and support a family. This doesn’t come from me, this comes from my customers, who come in and support me because they can see that I am working as hard as I can,” Soillis says. “I love the square.” Soillis’s loyalty extends beyond his customers to the community itself.
SOULFUL STITCH
Visiting a tailor is completely different from stepping into a big department store. The most immediate difference is the space itself. Visiting a conventional clothing store, what one sees are racks and racks of clothing in shiny, organized displays. If any alterations need to be done, the clothes are whisked off to some man or machine behind a curtain. Walking into Rizzo or Felix’s Shoe Repair, one never feels any distance from the true soul of the operation. There is no mystery about where the work is done; the work is what is being displayed. In Felix’s Shoe Repair, customers will often watch Christos Soillis working on a handbag or shoes. His workspace is in the very fore of his shop, as his handiwork is the very essence of his trade.
What Soillis does is not particularly lucrative, and he knows this. Sometimes, he will spend more than an hour on a simple shoe repair to ensure that it is done properly. “The money you make ends up being less than a dishwasher would make, but if you love what you do, money is the last thing you worry about,” Soillis says. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.” The joy Soillis derives from helping his customers exceeds any money woes.
NO MASK
These men are not working to meet deadlines or financial goals; their primary concern is the quality of their work. “I’m not a salesman, I’m not a designer. I’m a tailor. When I work, I want to please myself first, then the customer,” Calautti says. “If I see in their eyes that they don’t like the work, or I don’t like it, I’ll rip it up and do it again.” He views each garment with an artist’s eye, and if it does not meet his standards, even if it might meet someone else’s, that is not good enough.
There is no mask or diffusion of responsibility; a jacket from Frank Kopellas speaks of Kopellas himself. The workmanship of one of Calautti’s suits is nobody’s but his own. Every stitch in a shoe resoled by Soillis testifies to his work ethic. A blazer recut by Papazian gains new life through his hands.
Tailors put forth this level of care and personal attention not only to earn their customers’ loyalty but also to protect their integrity of their art. The item leaves their shop carrying their handiwork, present in every small stitch or alteration. Madelan Kopellas recounts what her father, Frank, always says to his customers, “You have to look good when you walk out my door. That’s my name your wearing.”
—Staff writer Alexander Tang can be reached at tang@college.harvard.edu.