Finding An Esmoquin

The Universe Provides

Costa Rica, in case you haven’t been here (and contrary to the preconceived notion of many U.S. citizens) is not a “Third World” country. The United Nations technically describes it as a nation with a “highly developed” economy.

The truth is that the “highly developed” part of Costa Rica’s economy is largely concentrated in San Jose, the capital city located in the center of the country. Out here in Guanacaste Province, the region I refer to as the “Chicken Leg” (Look at a map - we’re the drumstick on the northwest end of the country), things are different. Farming is the main industry, with a ribbon of tourism stretching along the Pacific Coast. Driving though Guanacaste, it is not uncommon to have to come to a stop while a herd of cattle, small tribe of goats, or a couple of dogs wander across the road, taking their own, sweet time. Sometimes, the pedestrian is even more exotic. I have paused for iguanas, monkeys, tapirs, and even an anteater.

A Typical Traffic Jam in Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica

This region of the country is not “Third World”, either. It is more correctly thought of as “Other World”. That herd of cows lives alongside a huge sugar cane farm, a small family farm that proudly markets it’s hand made goat cheese, and just down the road is a state-of-the-art hospital with the most highly trained and caring staff that has already saved my life - twice. (A story for another day.) All of that is surrounded by volcanoes, jungles, and a nation that is preserving nearly a third of its land mass in national parks, including 75% of its rainforests.

This region of Costa Rica is many wonderful things, but one thing it is not, is formal. A swimsuit or pair of shorts is the only socially mandatory clothing. T-shirt and shoes are optional. So, when our daughter let it be known that her November wedding back in the U.S. would be “Black Tie”, a shiver of fear ran up my spine.

“Where in Guanacaste am I going to find a Tuxedo?” I asked as Carmen and I enjoyed our morning cup of coffee on the patio. A Howler Monkey in the tree across the street let out a growl to punctuate my concern.

Our town welcomes thousands of tourists every year, and has a vibrant collection of stores. But it is safe to say that there has never been the need for a tuxedo here. Even the occasional wedding is a beach affair that has more need for swimsuits than formal suits.

“Maybe someplace in Liberia,” Carmen responded, with more than a little skepticism in her voice. With a population just over 50,000 Liberia is the largest town anywhere near us, and the eighth largest town in the country. But its rural setting defines the farming and cowboy culture. She knew as well as I that finding one tuxedo in our province was unlikely, and the chance of finding one that fit would hover around the zero point.

I went online to see if I could rent one in the U.S., and have it sent to the hotel we would be staying at for the wedding. Sure enough, there is a company that rents tuxedos online. The tricky part is that they don’t even want your measurements; just height and weight. As a guy who has had to have shirts and suits altered all my life because of my shoulder width and long arms, I was a bit more than doubtful about being fitted by their algorithms. Also, the cost would be near the $500 point.

Tuxedo in Guanacaste was the next thing I typed in my search page. Sure enough, Kingsman Fashion Service popped up. I went to their website and found that they are a men’s clothing store in Liberia, complete with an on-staff tailor. And, yes, they have tuxedos, which in Spanish is called “un esmoquin”.

But…

Styles in a Latin American country like Costa Rica are not the same as in The United States. The men here, if they are going to dress up, like to stand out. Kingsman’s website proudly displayed a fire engine red tuxedo, a blue and black checkerboard satin jacket, and several metallic-looking fabrics. Stylish in their way. Flashy for sure. But not what I needed.

This being our only chance, Carmen and I hopped in the truck and droved to Liberia. Walking into Kingsman’s just a few minutes after the store opened, we were rewarded with the sight of a row of black, hip, and very stylish tuxedoes that turned out to be from an Italian maker. Amazingly, they had my size and the tailor quickly hemmed the pants to the correct length for free. They had lots of flashy bow ties to match those colorful tuxes, but none in black.

“Oh, the seamstress will make one for you,” the courteous and incredibly helpful sales lady said, in Spanish of course. Sure enough, the seamstress set to work on a bow tie, which was ready in no time.

The kicker to this whole story is the cost. An Italian made tuxedo fitted to perfection, complete with a custom-crafted bow tie, cost the U.S. equivalent of $283. I could wear this tuxedo for our daughter’s wedding, then throw it away and I will have spent less money than renting one in the U.S.

Of course, I won’t do that. I think I’ll keep it for my next jungle hike. The monkeys will be impressed.