25/01/2025
This is a true experience of a customer; only their name has been changed to protect their privacy and dignity. It’s also the reason I’m not sharing any photos. It’s a long post, but I think it’s important to share.
“Jo” got married last weekend, and the thank-you card I received not only brought me to tears but prompted me to write this case study.
It was around 9 pm on a midweek evening when a WhatsApp message notification pinged on my phone. I communicate a lot via WhatsApp, so it wasn’t unusual to get a message in the evening, but this one stood out as something different. It was a message saying that “Jo” had seen a post I made on social media about being inclusive and asking if I could help them. They were transmasculine and struggling to find a suit for their wedding.
“Of course,” I messaged back and scheduled a video call. What I heard during that call not only infuriated me but directly led to the formation of the brand “The Transition Tailor.”
Jo told me during the call that they were marrying their long-time partner in a few months and had been searching for a suit for over two months without success. They had tried off-the-peg options and even approached a bespoke tailor, but the experience had been disheartening. It got emotional, so we scheduled an appointment for Jo to travel from Yorkshire to my studio in Carlisle the following week. I assured them that my business—and my entire outlook—was about inclusion and helping my clients feel their best selves. Together, we would create their perfect suit.
A week later, the consultation date arrived, along with one of my little eccentricities. I like to greet my clients on my showroom doorstep. As I work by appointment, I find that welcoming clients at the door and personally leading them inside feels far friendlier than waiting for the doorbell to ring. Around 10 minutes past the appointment time, I spotted someone standing just around the corner of the building. I noticed their foot peeking out, so I wandered over and asked if they were Jo. They said yes, and I welcomed them inside. It wasn’t warm outside, so I was glad to get into the cosy showroom. Over a coffee, we had a chat.
It turned out that, despite my assurances, Jo had stood outside for 20 minutes working up the courage to come to the door. When I asked why they were so hesitant, the details of their previous wedding suit experiences emerged—and I was absolutely horrified, both as a professional and as a human being.
Jo had visited three well-known high-street menswear brands, and their experiences were as follows:
Store one: Jo walked in with their fiancée, and the staff member was downright rude. He addressed them as “ladies” when they entered and, despite being politely corrected several times that Jo identified as masculine and used they/them pronouns, he continued to call them “Miss” and referred to them as “her” when speaking to their fiancée. After trying on just one jacket, Jo decided to leave.
Store two: Jo didn’t even get as far as trying on a suit. As soon as they walked upstairs, the staff member directed them to the women’s section downstairs, stating, “This floor is for menswear.” When Jo explained, the staff member shrugged, told them they could look around, and walked away.
Store three: The staff were slightly more helpful, but the shop was busy. While Jo was trying on suits, a group of customers in their 20s openly laughed and made comments about Jo and their fiancée. Rather than confronting the group, the staff member moved Jo and their fiancée to a small, secluded area. Though likely well-intentioned, this made Jo feel even more isolated and uncomfortable.
Deciding that off-the-peg options wouldn’t work, Jo visited a local tailor in Yorkshire to ask about a made-to-measure suit. The response they received was shocking: despite explaining that they were masculine-presenting, marrying a cisgender woman, and wanted a wedding suit, the tailor replied, “I’m sorry, madam, we don’t do womenswear.” Jo’s fiancée hadn’t accompanied them, having decided she didn’t want to deal with the drama.
By the end of this conversation, Jo and I were both in tears. As someone who loves this industry, it broke my heart to hear their story. After drying our eyes, we got to work.
Jo wore a chest binder to the consultation, and after trying on some sample suits, we found the perfect fit across the shoulders. We worked out how to maximise a masculine silhouette without creating a boxy look. We discussed trousers, pocket placement, and waist pitch to minimise the appearance of feminine hips. With the fit decided, we moved on to the fun parts: fabric and styling. Jo was a dream client—they knew exactly what they wanted.
At the end of the consultation, Jo gave me the warmest hug and thanked me for providing a positive, gender-affirming experience. They told me they were genuinely excited to see their final suit, something they hadn’t expected after their previous experiences.
Five weeks later, Jo and their fiancée arrived for the final fitting. This time, they came straight to the door with a big smile. Jo’s fiancée mentioned that the suit was all Jo had talked about for weeks. The fitting was a success—filled with smiles, laughter, and a perfectly tailored three-piece suit in a gorgeous fabric. A minor trouser adjustment was needed, and after a second fitting, the suit was complete. Jo left with another warm hug and my best wishes for their wedding and future together.
Reflecting on Jo’s experiences, I decided something had to change. That’s why I started “The Transition Tailor”—a brand dedicated to creating a supportive, gender-affirming space for clients like Jo and their fiancée. Since its inception, I’ve welcomed clients from across the UK, Ireland, and even Canada, all of whom share similar stories of struggling for acceptance during what should be the happiest time of their lives.
Jo and their (now) wife were married last weekend. The thank-you card they sent is one of the biggest highlights of my career. It included a photo of the happy couple with a note on the back: “This photo only happened because of your help.”
The Transition Tailor is a brand that shouldn’t have to exist—but until the day it’s no longer needed, I’ll continue to ensure that every client feels seen, supported, and celebrated.
