Franco the Tailor: A Tacoma Story

To see Franco in his shop, now, is to see an aged master completely relaxed on his home turf, with elegantly silvered hair, an eyeglass chain anchoring his spectacles to his neck, and measuring tape draped over his shoulders. The walls of Franco's shop are decorated with very little, except for some warm paintings and memorabilia about his life (including photos of him with Kevin Kline and Tracey Ullman, which we'll get to). More than anything, Franco's shop is decorated with racks of vintage suits and the din of a whirring sewing machine. Franco's a natural storyteller, aided by an eventful life that saw him train in Milan before following his Tacoma-born wife to the United States.

 None of this would've happened, though, if Franco's mother hadn't cajoled him into learning a trade.

“My mother and father, in Italy, had a bed and breakfast, which was very successful,” says Franco. “As a young man, I was working there, washing dishes and serving tables, so when my mother was kinda forcing me to learn a trade, I said, 'Mom, I don't need to learn a trade. I'm gonna take over your business.' So, my mother said, 'Learn an art and put it apart!' (a roughly translated Italian saying about learning a skill and setting it aside until you need it). I didn't want to learn it, but she took me to it. So, I started as a young man, after school, and by 18 or 19 I knew the trade, because I went to a master tailor.”

Even those who have no connection to Tacoma may have, in a way, been exposed to the charm and personality of Franco: Kevin Kline molded his accent and performance around Franco for his role in the 1990 Lawrence Kasdan-directed comedy I Love You To Death, which was filmed in Tacoma. The film – which we highly recommend, thanks in large part to its loving photography of our city's grittier past, including a scene set in Bob's Java Jive – centers around Kline, as an Italian man, blissfully unaware of the many times his wife, Tracey Ullman, attempts to kill him. I Love You To Death's darkly comic tone is met with a gregarious energy by the winning Kevin Kline, channeling the similarly endearing Franco.

 “He was playing the part of an Italian guy, so he wanted to work with my accent, and I was with him for a long time to work on that,” says Franco. “I'm an Italian interpreter. I'm not in big demand because there's not many Italians here, but once in a while we've got a case where we need an interpreter, so that's how he found me.”

In the nearly 30 years since Franco did his part in immortalizing Tacoma on film, he's continued to serve its citizens from his Stadium District shop. Every now and then, he says, people ask him when he's going to retire – stay in a business for over five decades, and you're bound to field that question from time to time! But, Franco says, he loves what he's doing, and has no intention of hanging up his needle and thread any time soon.

“I'll work as long as my health is good,” says Franco. “I don't do 10-hour days, like I used to, and Giovanni, my son, is a good tailor. He went to school at Bellarmine, he graduated from there, and did two years of college. In the third year, he said, 'Dad, I'm gonna lose my time, and you're gonna lose your money. So, I don't want to go to college anymore.' I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said, 'I'd like to come home and work for you.' And he's been here for 25 years.”

Plus, Franco laughs, his wife wouldn't be too thrilled with him if he didn't keep going to work.

 Asked what he would say to someone looking to buy a good suit for the first time, Franco has some simple advice: get a quality suit. Trust us, if you buy a suit for something like $300 or $500, you'll not only have incentive to keep it looking nice, but the fabric itself will ensure that it stays looking good for longer. But, no matter how expensive the suit, Franco says, you must get it tailored. Any old expensive suit, if it's off the rack and ill-fitting, will end up seeming cheap. Have it fitted to your body, and you'll look like a million bucks. For that matter, we may know just the person for the job.