If there’s one business I admire from the depths of my heart, it’s tailoring. The world of fashion designing, fabric cutting, sketching, and sewing is one I find truly fascinating but also extremely stressful. Honestly, tailoring is a beautiful skill, and those who have the patience and passion for it deserve every ounce of respect. But as much as I love seeing the final results beautiful dresses, well-detailed agbadas, neatly snatched waistlines, I don’t see myself ever stepping into that world. Not because I don’t appreciate it, but because I know myself too well: I like my peace. I mean it with my full chest, I love peace. I’m that person who will rather avoid unnecessary back and forth than get into any form of drama, and tailoring, for all its beauty, seems to come with a lot of it.
Let me paint you a picture: you take your time, maybe even lose sleep over cutting and sewing a beautiful outfit. You pour your energy into making sure the stitches are clean, the shape is flattering, and the finishing is okay. Then boom your client shows up and says, “It’s not giving what I imagined.” They start comparing your creation to something they saw on the internet. The worst part? That reference picture was taken in a professional photo shoot with edited all the works, and now you’re expected to reproduce it stitch-for-stitch on a completely different body type. It’s wild. I’ve seen my sister go through this several times. She’s a fashion designer, one of the big names in Uyo, and I admire her so much. Her patience? 100%. Her eye for style? Unmatched. But me? I’d cry tears of frustration before the first stitch is done.
Another thing that terrifies me about tailoring is the fact that even the tiniest mistake can cost you hours of extra work. Imagine sewing a full-length dress and realizing a slight mist. You can’t just shrug and hope they don’t notice. No, you have to lose the thread, adjust it, and redo the work. The worst is when the client brings a complicated style and insists you must replicate it exactly. No room for creative freedom. No appreciation for your unique touch. Just “copy and paste this look.” And if the client’s body type doesn’t fit that style, you now have to become both a tailor and a magician.
Yet, despite all these challenges, I admire the craft so deeply. There’s something powerful about seeing someone wear your work and glow with pride. There’s joy in hearing someone say, “This dress? It’s from my designer,” or even better, “This is a customized piece made just for me.” I won’t lie, I sometimes imagine what it feels like to have people refer to my work as a masterpiece. That word alone masterpiece holds so much weight. It’s not just about fabric and thread anymore; it becomes art. And I respect that.
I remember watching my sister prepare for her first major fashion show in Uyo. The sleepless nights, the deadlines, the models coming in and out for fittings—it was chaotic but also inspiring. I watched her create magic from scratch, starting with plain fabric and turning it into stunning pieces that had the whole room clapping. And though I cheered her on from the sidelines, a part of me was quietly saying, “This life is not for me.” Because at the end of the day, I know myself. I love aesthetics, I enjoy beauty, and I’m very much into things that look elegant but I’m also a very calm, quiet person who thrives in peaceful, drama-free zones. Tailoring, with all its glory, feels like it’s always in the middle of a creative storm.
That’s not to say I don’t value hard work far from it. But we all have different callings. Some people are meant to handle ten clients shouting at once, five dresses to deliver by the weekend, and still show up online to promote their brand. That’s their strength. Mine might lie somewhere else, just maybe in something else. But tailoring? Hmm. The respect I have for those in the fashion world is immense, especially when they maintain grace and excellence in such a demanding industry.
So, while I may never try it or even dare to, tailoring will always hold a special place in my heart. I’ll admire from a distance, support those in the game, hype my sister’s brand every chance I get, and proudly wear designs made with love. But as for me entering that sewing room? That’s a beautiful “no” for me.
All images are mine
