Italian by design
Gent’s outfitters in Addis Ababa have the bespoke market all sewn up
WORDS | HENRY WISMAYER
IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF ETHIOPIA’S HISTORY, five years of occupation by Italy (1936-41) was a flash-in-the-pan, but it certainly left a mark. Nowadays, newcomers to Addis Ababa might find themselves surprised to be eating pasta in the Piazza and sipping macchiato near the Merkato. And in a city where the word for thank-you runs to six syllables, most of us will at least get to grips with the punchier one for goodbye: ‘ciao’. However, for the bargain-conscious visitor there is one colonial legacy that stands head and shoulder-pads above all the others. For here on every high street, a man can get an Italian-style suit for an Ethiopian price.
Just up the road from Arat Kilo, where an obelisk commemorates Ethiopia’s banishment of Mussolini’s mob in 1941, Ahmed Mussa stands behind the wood-panelled counter of Wadan Tailors in an immaculate white tunic, a green tape measure coiled around his neck.
With 20 years’ experience in the trade, his prices are typical of the tailors that ply their trade along this bend of Ras Mekonnen Street: 150 birr (£7) for a bespoke linen shirt; 1,350 birr (£65) for a made-to-measure two-piece suit in 100 percent wool; a few birr extra if you’re after a quick turnaround.
“There are three reasons for a faranji [Westerner] to buy their suits here,” Mussa says, in between greeting a steady trickle of customers with the shoulder-touching handshake that is peculiar to Ethiopia. “Our quality is good, the service is excellent. But the most important thing is the price. Suits in Addis are very cheap.”
Wadan Tailors has plenty of competition, ensuring that those low prices stay low. Ever since government officials took to emulating Emperor Haile Selassie’s penchant for Western fashions 50 years ago, suits have become an ever-more popular fixture of the Ethiopian wardrobe and the tailors of Addis Ababa have been growing in skill and number. Today, the Ethiopian capital is home to a cornucopia of clothiers, making it a fine destination for tourists and business travellers looking to pick up some cut-price threads.
The idea of shopping overseas for budget tailoring is nothing new, of course, but it would be misleading to compare Addis to Hong Kong or Dubai, where urbane suit-makers set out to replicate the Savile Row experience for a reduced cost. With a tailored two-piece coming in at around ten times cheaper than a branded, off-the-peg equivalent in Rome, it’s perhaps no surprise that things in Addis are less upmarket.
From dark, street-side kiosks where gruff men hunch over chalked-up fabrics and ancient Singer sewing-machines (pronounced ‘sin-jer’ here), to Ambassador, Ethiopia’s biggest suit-seller, which has over 50 stores from Addis to Aksum, the emphasis here is on bargain basement. Forget your hand-woven vicuna wool and brace yourself for the delights of ‘tetron’ and ‘polyviscos’; wave goodbye to the likes of London’s Gieves & Hawkes and Ozwald Boateng and say hello to Super-Style and Jems Bond Tailors.
Many of the fabrics found hanging in great bolts from their wooden shelves are hemmed with ribbons bearing the legend: Made in Italy. “It’s from India,” admit several cloth-merchants, though most are quick to mention that, if you supply the material, the majority of Addis tailors will transform it into dapper attire for as little as 350 birr (£17). Besides, judging by their popularity, it takes more than a wide-boy name and ersatz fabrics to deter the local punters.
On Amede Geneya, crowds of shoppers mill daily along the row of textile stalls, shoe-sellers and leather merchants that line the northern edge of Merkato, Africa’s biggest open-air market where, like Harrods, you can purportedly buy just about anything.
Busiest of the lot is Timonior, bursting at the seams with individual shoppers getting measured for the three-button two-piece that is the most popular design in town, and a gaggle of sartorially courageous chaps in search of a bahlawi suf, a traditional occasion-suit with colourful geometric designs on the lapels, buttons and lining. At the back of the narrow store a flustered man, wielding his tape-measure like a rhythmic gymnast, calls out a succession of clients’ vital statistics to a teller who scrawls them into a bulging ledger full of swatches.
It’s a long way from the gentlemanly boutiques of Europe, but for manager Tewodros Tadesse, whose father opened this shop 43 years ago and now presides over a mini-empire of five stores dotted around the city, there is no compromise on the final product.
“The quality of the work is the same as in Europe; our designs are copied straight from Milan,” he says, “Ethiopian men take the way they dress just as seriously as Italian men. Our prices may be low, but we still have the style.”
One thing is as certain as the stitching on the grey pinstripe jacket he opens to prove it: when it comes to tailoring price war, Ethiopia has got the Italians beat all over again.
