Things meant to be.
By Gaby Basora
Material continually flows.
I felt very good in the Tucker first blouse. I wore it for two weeks straight. A fortnight in a heather red cotton jersey blouse. I bought the fabric at Mood. It looked perfect with high-waisted vintage Levis. Underneath a well-designed H&M trench coat. I loved to be dressed up by my mom in Cacharel when we were little girls, but I was most used to wearing cut off tee-shirts and leotards and jeans. Debra Winger in Urban Cowboy. A tomboy at heart, loving feeling like a dog with its head out the window in the wind. The first Tucker was the essence of all that and more.
I rode my bike around town, to work, to the kids, to art-openings. My friends liked the blouse. Susan Winget, the beautiful stylist and journalist, “Lady” of all trades suggested making one in cotton voile. I had brought a stack of fabric to the factory to get more of this perfect blouse made and the stack included fabrics of cotton voile, silk jersey, crepe de chine, double georgette, swiss dot, and printed jacquard.
Fabric collectors get this.
Two yards from an antique shop in Jackson Heights, Queens. Fabric my mom gave me from Mexico. Fabric my grandma brought back from Beijing. I bought more fabric at Mood and delivered a beautiful pile to a factory in Midtown Manhattan.
I picked Bei’s factory from a list printed out at the Big Button, on Seventh Avenue. Bei, understood these blouses had to happen now. She wasn’t hesitant to sew up fifty. I sold some to friends. Their friends made their way over to my apartment, to the closet in the East Village where the blouses were hanging and they bought some.
Around the same time at dinner at Bar Pitti, I had on one of the billowy floral blouses and lifted another out of a bag, a gift for a friend’s birthday. The silky, special, printed pieces were captivating. They caught the eyes of other diners. Marianna, insisted I show the blouses to the buyer at Barneys NY and she set up a meeting to make the introduction.
I had no idea of what was coming next. Or “Where the Bird Sings Best," A queen's lady in waiting makes sure nothing gets in the way of stopping the train. The blouses needed a name.
Much to tell about Tucker.