Open the door. Walk through. Cue the angelic choir.
And you shall have entered the Domenico Vacca, the new marble-and-leather—mother ship is the only word for it, of the Italian suiting giant. It opens on Monday.
It’s basically an entire old-school department store for one guy’s work, and it makes the old spot up on 5th look like a hovel in comparison.
Ahead is just a sampling of the questions you might ask about all this. We’ll keep them very simple.
How should I start out?
You should begin at the ground-floor café for some espresso and a pastry.
Is it really bespoke?
Yeah. The word “bespoke” is thrown around incorrectly a lot these days, but yes, you’ll be consulting on fabrics, fit preferences, buttons, lapels, etc. They’re creating a suit for you. Just as they created Daniel Day-Lewis’s Oscar tux a few years back.
Ready-to-wear? Home goods?
But of course. His ties make you want to do that Italian kissing-your-fingers thing.
And if I’m feeling a little shaggy?
Yes, there’s a floor dedicated to making your hair look the way you like it.
Is there a private club I can gain membership to?
You are good. And once you’re in, you’ve got yourself a nice, expertly stocked bar for you and the three friends/associates you can bring with you.
What about a rooftop terrace for parties? No terrace, no deal.
Fine, they’ll throw in a very large terrace, and a rooftop with a collection of rare cigars and a rotating lineup of guest chefs for good measure.
But what if I just want to have a pied-à-terre there—say, one entirely designed by Domenico himself?
Now that’s just ridiculo—oh, wait, we’re being told they do indeed have 30 of those, with chauffeur access.
Can I take a look around?
Yes, you can (photos this way).
[Pauses for breath.]
And you shall have entered the Domenico Vacca, the new marble-and-leather—mother ship is the only word for it, of the Italian suiting giant. It opens on Monday.
It’s basically an entire old-school department store for one guy’s work, and it makes the old spot up on 5th look like a hovel in comparison.
Ahead is just a sampling of the questions you might ask about all this. We’ll keep them very simple.
How should I start out?
You should begin at the ground-floor café for some espresso and a pastry.
Is it really bespoke?
Yeah. The word “bespoke” is thrown around incorrectly a lot these days, but yes, you’ll be consulting on fabrics, fit preferences, buttons, lapels, etc. They’re creating a suit for you. Just as they created Daniel Day-Lewis’s Oscar tux a few years back.
Ready-to-wear? Home goods?
But of course. His ties make you want to do that Italian kissing-your-fingers thing.
And if I’m feeling a little shaggy?
Yes, there’s a floor dedicated to making your hair look the way you like it.
Is there a private club I can gain membership to?
You are good. And once you’re in, you’ve got yourself a nice, expertly stocked bar for you and the three friends/associates you can bring with you.
What about a rooftop terrace for parties? No terrace, no deal.
Fine, they’ll throw in a very large terrace, and a rooftop with a collection of rare cigars and a rotating lineup of guest chefs for good measure.
But what if I just want to have a pied-à-terre there—say, one entirely designed by Domenico himself?
Now that’s just ridiculo—oh, wait, we’re being told they do indeed have 30 of those, with chauffeur access.
Can I take a look around?
Yes, you can (photos this way).
[Pauses for breath.]
