Dexter sews from suits to jockey shorts

June/July is the busiest period of the year for Dexter Meloney, or ‘Chalice’ as he’s known to his customers. He is a businessman in the line of garment construction.

There’s a slim chance of getting an office suit or any other outfit done in this the season of graduation balls and weddings at “Chalice Exclusive.” Or maybe, he can squeeze you in! With inch tape around his neck, scissors in hand, Chalice was cutting away at graduation material the colour of lilac as I walked into his shop at 21 Frederick Street, Port-of-Spain (opposite Colsort Mall). Bundled to his left were yards of uncut fabric awaiting transformation. Hung on the walls were shirts and office suits, some on display, others for sale. It was his preparatory ritual before he disappeared behind the curtains that separated the front desk/drawing board from the room where his heavy duty machines are kept — where he figuratively turns “mole hills into mountains.” “I need an assistant,” Chalice said. “Taking all these (telephone) calls and having to work at the same time is too much.” He recently opened another branch at 21 Delhi St,  St James.

Chalice had just “put out” a wedding. He outfitted seven grooms men in double-breasted shawl collar jackets, with a cream satin finish. “Now I’m working on a wedding for seven boys, four men and three other guys — 14 in all,” he said. He pulled out the paper pattern which his client brought in — a turtle neck shirt with single-breasted tuxedo. The groom wanted what is professionally called a “shad belly” jacket. Chalice calls it a morning gown three-piece suit. Business was good. “This work is a very hard work, you deal with your nerves a lot. The only tonic I take is to kill stress.” He wasn’t talking about the tonic obtained at pharmacies. “With martial arts knowledge and bible doctrines I learn to adapt to everything that comes.” In a trade that is seemingly flourishing, tailors are slowly dying out. Chalice, however, is trying to keep afloat. He listed some reasons why his job remains a struggle: “One, people doh like to pay for tailor-made clothes. Two, society doh respect craftsmen. Three, we doh have a governmental system that putting things in place and sticking to it, for example like advertising craftsmen on an international level, calling them together for them to produce their product and judge them. Men have talent but doh have the marketing skills. Four, men leave out their work to look for a lil end to survive... Is a poor man trade but I trying to turn it into a rich man trade.”

His next words were eyebrow-raising: “Money is not really the issue. Love and respect is the key to my whole mission.” Sewing was a revered profession in his family. His grandmother, a Grenadian immigrant who lived for 102 years, was a seamstress. His mother followed in similar vein. “I learned through faith. I believe I was born with the genes.” When he was a boy, he remembered keeping his mother’s company as she sewed. “I used to watch what she was doing,” said the St James resident. He lost his mother, Lilla Rita Morris, at the age of 12. Though the training didn’t seem applicable when he left school, he was roused to action after passing by K Bruce’s (neighbourhood tailor) shop one day. “Ah heard this machine, ah hearing the peddle and ah say dat is Ma Lilla machine. Ah never get frighten so yet. So ah peep and he (K Bruce) see meh and ah pull back. Then he call meh. He ask meh if I like sewing. Ah say yes. He say how come. Ah say meh mother used to sew.” “He bring a piece of leather. But ah never sew real thing yet. Meh mother used to make meh practise forward and backstitch on ‘Gazette’ paper. So I start to peddle back and forward with two feet because I used to see my mother doing that and the thread start to knot,” Chalice said. In short time he was gaining compliments. “He (K Bruce) said I had the knowledge of workmanship. He said when ah start getting so good he had to hide some of the things he was doing... But it was in me already. I was just looking on and learning fast.” Of Ma Lilla’s eight children, five girls and three boys, Chalice is the only tailor. “My sisters say this is a mad man work, dealing with customers and all that.”

Chalice was also taught by his uncle, Neville Morris, who specialised in suiting. By this time Chalice had developed a profound interest in the trade. Masonry and carpentry were less satisfying. He furthered his knowledge in garment construction (pattern and construction, style and design, textile and labelling) at John Donaldson Technical Institute. Soon he was making track-suits for himself, vests and even “strong man jockey shorts.” “I’ve put those things on hold, though,” he informed. Lingerie, latin dance wear, you name it he makes it — “just come with your idea a pattern, anything,” he said. He constructed the introductory wear for contestants of last year’s Miss Elegance Pageant. He also outfitted latin dancers Sharon George and partner and Charlene Quamina-Joseph/Latin Connec-tion for various competitions. He’s even outfitted 33 students at his daughter’s primary school for their sports day. “She likes to talk and she told her teacher that her daddy could sew,” he laughed. Despite the wealth of knowledge he’s acquired over the past 17 years, from K Bruce’s first lesson in sewing until now, Chalice said that he’s reached a point “where I still want to learn.” He also wants to pass on his knowledge. To the youth he said: “There are two blessings, unseen and physical.” He believes that. His desire is to create a “hard core” clothing line. His dream is to shake the hand of American clothing line franchise holder Russell Simmons/Phat Farm. Chalice said: “I admire what he’s doing in the line of garments.”