I HAVE always associated York with tailoring rather than tinsel 'Tailors who were a cut above the rest' (August 21) from the day I first saw the city as a humble visitor from the county that dare not speak its name.
I walked round the deserted walls, dodged traffic in Shambles and paused spellbound on Atkinson's magical Foss bridge. The city seemed to wear its past like comfortable old clothes.
Passing down Goodramgate, I stopped short in amazement before the tiny window of a tailor's shop. A notice invited passers-by to 'Come in and have a fit!' A second proclaimed: 'People come to my shop because they know no better.'
While I stood transfixed, the tailor (and, presumably the author) appeared in the doorway. He flashed me a conspiratorial and slightly manic smile.
"Do you get it?" he chuckled.
I realised I had found my spiritual home and have lived here ever since.
William Dixon Smith,
Welland Rise,
Acomb, York.
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