Tales of a Nigerian Tailor (Part 2) – Assistant fashion designer, Allow me to do my Job!

Tales of a Nigerian Tailor (Part 2) – Assistant fashion designer, Allow me to do my Job!

There’s a lot to tell but I’ll start from this because in all my waka, nothing has hurt me more. I have to apologize for starting with a bad experience but I promise the next gist would be too nice.

So a lady called me to make some clothes for her because I made some for her sister. I agreed to meet on her only free day – Sunday.

Fast forward to that Sunday, we met. She showed me her fabric and I gave her styles she could make. I played it three times or more so there would be no confusion and then we proceeded to agree on the price, payments and work terms and then it was time for measurements. While measuring her for the dress, she mentioned something about her Asaba designer but I shoved it and kept taking measurements and then I asked her if she liked her waist area firm or free and she said “my designer in Asaba uses 29” so I simply wrote 29. It was time to get the trouser length and she said “it should be not too long o, my Asaba designer puts it just at my ankle and I don’t want high waist” so I took the measurements just like the Asaba designer.

Fast forward again to the day of delivery. I got to her very late because it was a Sunday and I don’t work on Sunday but I was out with family that day so I figured I could do this that day. A man opened the door, stared at me for a while and said “you seem upset” and I said “Good evening to you too”

I told him why I was there, he called her and she came out, took the clothes in and came out fuming.

“Madam what is this?” she said rudely referring to the trousers she was wearing.

Clearly, her Asaba designer measurements didn’t come out nice. I told her it was the Asaba designer’s measurements that she instructed me to use that I used.

And she flared up!

“What rubbish is this? When did we discuss about the Asaba designer? Why is it only you that remembers! You’re lying!  You tailors are the same! This is why I kept calling you but you don’t pick your phone. Who are you not to pick my call? Am I your mate? I am not your mate! It’s my younger sister that introduced you to me”.

Then I interrupted her as tears already welled up from my stomach to my eyes. I asked if I could take them and fix them. She angrily packed all the clothes excluding a perfectly made jacket (oh how I love that jacket!), threw them in a bag, handed it to me and said “get out”. She opened her door and said again “get out!”

 

I GOT OUT.

 

I was walking on a street filled with people but I could barely see anyone. I didn’t even take in the smell of roasted plantain like I used to whenever I passed them. I was sad and all I could think was “this Asaba designer no try o”.

I fixed all the clothes to what they should be if she had let me use my measurements and then I found her money. I sent the clothes and a full refund back. I don’t know why I did that but I did it and I feel very okay now which is what matters.

She is the second “do you know who I am” customer that I’ve had. I will tell you about the first one later whom I found out shared her apartment with 4 other ladies after bragging that she was a successful saleswoman and that she bought that apartment with her own money.

I got a call from a lady who wouldn’t say her name asking me to please forget everything that happened between the Asaba designer lady and I stating that I wouldn’t be the first having this drama with her.

I’ve moved on very quick. Ki lo kan mi pelu Aunty oni wahala?

The Tales of A Nigerian Tailor… till next Wednesday.

Written by Chioma of Seamply Sylvia

Read Part 1 HERE

Photo Credit: Google Images

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One thought on “Tales of a Nigerian Tailor (Part 2) – Assistant fashion designer, Allow me to do my Job!

  1. Nedoux - February 20, 2017 at 11:28 am

    I felt so bad reading this. “Do you know who I am?” is so pregnant with pride and ego.

    I am glad that Chioma refunded her money. Having peace of mind is FAR better than money. 🙂

    Reply

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