Something upscale’s happened to the eclectic fashion scene on Cherokee Street. Three weeks ago, Dorothy Jones opened Bespoke (2650 Cherokee, 314-665-2665), a custom design showroom, shop, and studio. The fashionable and stylishly sane clothes co-exist comfortably with the indie and ethnic fashions on the street, Mexican grocery, art galleries and restaurants, bakeries and the bars.
The shop name echoes the anachronistic trade lingo of Saville Row in London. A garment is “bespoke” when a customer selects a fabric for his made-to-measure suit. Jones expanded bespoke garments to include women’s styles—it’s a market this former costumer, corset maker, draper, patternmaker, and fashion designer understands.
Stay up-to-date with the local arts scene
Subscribe to the weekly St. Louis Arts+Culture newsletter to discover must-attend art exhibits, performances, festivals, and more.
Wide windows showcase designs for dresses, skirts, blouses, and jackets for women and a classic waistcoat for men. More designs are in the works. A sleek, simple wedding dress framed in a grey curtained alcove exhibits a graceful sweep of the skirt and a figure-accentuating bodice highlighted with a touch of beads.
The shop unveils itself behind the curtains. Fitting muslins hang on a rack with patterns in classic two-sided cream and green heavyweight paper. The cutting table comes into view just beyond the rack. Fabrics on the wall create a colorful collage, while bolts in bins beckon visitors for a closer look. Dress forms congregate in groups and stand alone. Buttons and trims nest in bottles. Sewing machines soldier along the far wall. When nothing is hidden, everything is revealed—Jones likes it that way.
“My mindset is different from that of a fashion designer,” Jones says. “When I was in my twenties, I worked at Barbara Matera’s Broadway costume shop. The costumer is always in service to the director and the actor. It’s a close collaboration of creatives, which is different than the model of fashion designers who make singular collections.”
Jones believes the apprentice and mentor system that still flourishes in costume shops firmly grounded her in solid technical skills from draping a pattern to sewing a garment that works. She learned the old-fashioned trade of corset making in the costume rooms, which led to more opportunities.
As a corset maker, she literally reshapes the physical self. “Corset makers often sell in the fetish market. I’ve made pieces for dominatrices whose garments must work. I’ve worked with transgendered individuals whose bodies can be enhanced by the corsets, which more closely aligns the way they look with how they feel; it’s the place where fashion and spirit meet.”
Her work with actors, dancers, and others helped shape her collaborative style at Bespoke. She’s got the technical chops to pull off difficult garments and the people skills to help clients discover and trust their inner fashionista—she’s practical, too.
“My forms reflect real people,” she says. “We’re not all a size 8 or 6. I make muslins, many bigger than a 14, so women who come in my shop can try something on that I can translate into a custom pattern.”
Although Bespoke has only been open a few weeks, Jones has made sales from walk-in traffic. “I didn’t anticipate the interest from younger people who come in off the street,” she explains. “My customers, unless they are brides, are often older, but I made a beautiful jacket for a thirty-something woman, a birthday gift from her husband.”
Jones is already incorporating the Cherokee Street influence in her plans. She’s studying the Quinceanera dresses, elaborate white ball gowns that 15-year-old Hispanic girls wear for a special religious and community coming-of-age celebration.
Bespoke has given Jones the opportunity to continue the mentor/apprentice system. Katey Becvar works alongside Jones as a colleague at the studio. Becvar started as an apprentice. She had studied sculpture in art school. Like Jones, creating interesting, three-dimensional shapes from flat fabrics intrigues her.
“I am so happy when people see human beings make things by hand in my shop,” Jones says. “Sometimes I think the work of the hand has lost its nobility. In the maker movement, success isn’t about creating a million-dollar company—it’s about crafting things, one at a time, by hand.”