The Greatest Showman

“Apologies for the wait.” Melvin quickly descended the staircase, wearing a polite smile. He immediately spotted Andy, who was beaming, and the young man seated beside him.

The young man wore a cream-coloured T-shirt, iron-grey jeans, and black Vans skate shoes. He looked clean and straightforward—no tattoos, bracelets, or rings. His style was simple and neat. His golden-brown curls were slightly tousled, revealing a handsome face with a calm and poised demeanour, exuding a touch of youthful boldness. On the coffee table nearby sat a glass of milk and some crumbled cookies, the warm scent of milk lingering in the air, seemingly out of place in the atmosphere around them.

Melvin quickly assessed him. There were countless young men like him across Europe—handsome, with a naturally upright posture, often discovered by chance and transformed into the latest sensation on the fashion runway for top brands. These Nordic or Central European youths were often high school dropouts with little depth beyond their youthful allure, quickly rising only to be just as quickly replaced. If this was typical in the modelling industry, then the acting world was even more unforgiving.

At least in modelling, good looks and physique could secure you a brief moment in the spotlight, even if only as fleeting as a shooting star. But in acting, even those with “vase” potential often go unnoticed, blending into the crowd with little chance of standing out.

An Emmy? That’s just television—an industry never short of newcomers and fading stars, crowded to the point of suffocation.

Melvin decided to wrap things up quickly since this newcomer didn’t merit much attention. After a brief introduction, he went straight to the point, “Alright, let’s get started. This young man needs a suit, correct?” He snapped his fingers, and two blonde assistants rolled out a garment rack to the centre of the hall, brimming with outfits that dazzled the eye.

Renly scanned the collection, noting patterns like leopard prints, floral designs, and tie-dye, which made him slightly uncomfortable with their eccentric style. But the range of styles was extensive; just the pants alone came in styles with no darts, single dart, and double dart, while waistcoats, shirts, and jackets were also in plentiful supply. Renly understood that a suit’s true fit could only be judged by wearing it—every slight variation feels different.

This is why the elite often prefer bespoke tailoring—not because of style or innovation, as Savile Row custom suits, for instance, had fallen somewhat behind the pace of fashion trends. But every bespoke suit fits perfectly, crafted to one’s exact measurements and even unique to the wearer, ideal for any occasion or setting.

“Alright, young man, come over here and stand in the centre. I’ll give you a full assessment.” Melvin noticed Renly sitting still, guessing he was probably a bit intimidated, as such an elaborate setup isn’t common. Melvin couldn’t help but smile, recalling his own confusion and awe when he first started in this industry.

Renly raised an eyebrow at Melvin’s tone, which seemed to treat him like a child. But remembering he was only twenty in this life, he accepted his fate, sighed softly, and left his seat to step onto the white pedestal in front of the dressing mirror, arms relaxed as he presented himself.

Melvin examined him up and down, then circled him twice, muttering softly, “With that build, a medium size should work, as a small might be too tight in the shoulders. Let’s try it out.” He then walked over to the garment rack, did a quick scan, and after forming a plan, started browsing more carefully.

Unless an artist has a contract with a fashion brand as a spokesperson, stylists usually contact luxury brands before formal assignments, requesting a selection of soon-to-be-released or newly launched items. The broader the network and the greater the reputation, the better the sponsorships received.

“Try this on. It’s a slim-fitting suit with a slightly decadent feel.” Melvin handed over a suit. Renly cast a questioning glance at Andy, who spoke up in a half-joking tone, “I know you’re not used to suits, but this is a rite of passage.”

Renly smiled slightly, didn’t comment, and took the suit, heading to the fitting room.

This suit was made by Dior.

After the turn of the 21st century, Dior’s menswear department underwent a transformation, revolutionizing men’s suits that had followed centuries-old traditions. Under Hedi Slimane’s designs, suits became slim, fitted, edgy, and decadent. This “vampire” aesthetic pushed the classic narrow cut to an extreme, fitting only slender frames, evoking fragility and melancholy with a hidden edge of punk rock.

Many of the world’s top designers even started dieting just to wear Dior’s designs—a trend previously seen only among women, now spreading to men as well.

After Hedi Slimane left Dior in 2007, the brand’s designs started to lose their spark, becoming more constrained and lacking the previous flair and distinctiveness.

When Renly put on the suit and shirt, he opened the curtains, drawing both Andy’s and Melvin’s attention.

Andy couldn’t hide a touch of amazement in his eyes. Clothes do make the man, after all. The suit subtly transformed Renly’s aura, adding a delicate, melancholic quality to his slender, vulnerable appearance. His features exuded a distinctly London-esque air of gloom and experience, reminiscent of Eugene Sledge from ‘The Pacific’. Andy couldn’t help but imagine how a beige trench coat would complete the look.

Melvin seemed equally pleased, nodding in satisfaction. “I knew you could pull off this style beautifully.” He had noticed the subtle rebellious and rock spirit that Renly’s jeans and skate shoes hinted at, which led him to choose Dior.

But Renly shook his head. “The shoulders feel a bit tight, and there’s a tautness along the sides. While the waist fits well, the suit jacket itself feels a bit loose.”

Dior’s design has an extremely slim cut—like a lamppost, narrow from the shoulders to the waist. Renly’s broader shoulders and fuller chest clashed with this cut, creating tightness on top. Choosing the right size for the shoulders meant the waist was too loose, and fitting the waist properly left the shoulders too snug.

Simply put, it didn’t fit.

Melvin stepped forward to check, a bit surprised at Renly’s perceptiveness. “Didn’t expect you to be so sharp. Bit of a perfectionist, are we?” he joked lightly, not lingering on the thought as he selected another suit. “Try this one. It has a more classic and mature feel.”

Armani.

Renly said nothing, turning around to change into the suit. For Hollywood actors, Armani has been a top choice for years for a simple reason: reliability. Armani suits are neither too trendy nor too dated, neither overly bold nor overly conservative. They keep the elegance of the golden age’s classic style, winning endless praise—especially from men like George Clooney and Brad Pitt, who give Armani that distinct flair.

But Armani didn’t suit Renly. Though his mental age exceeded fifty, his body was still only twenty. Armani’s jacket hem was long enough to cover the hips, making him look too old-fashioned, almost like a child in his father’s suit.

Melvin took a couple of steps back, inspecting Renly before nodding approvingly. “Perfect! I think this one is absolutely perfect!”

Renly was bewildered—he must have misheard.

“You have strong, broad shoulders that support the suit’s structure well, and your height gives it presence. The waist is slightly loose, but we can adjust it, or even add a vest to make it a three-piece…” Melvin, lost in his own world, continued nodding, immensely pleased with his choice.

Listening to Melvin’s explanation, Andy couldn’t help but nod slightly. Though he knew little about fashion or suits, it reminded him of Hollywood’s golden age leading men.

Back then, actors like Clark Gable, Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Montgomery Clift radiated an alluring charm, untouched by technical enhancements, showcasing their genuine selves. Beyond their appearance, they embodied a timeless charisma on the screen creating enduring classics.

Today, George Clooney is revered precisely for this nostalgic, mature charm.

Watching Renly in this Armani suit, Andy sensed a hint of that same allure—yet it felt contradictory. Renly was too young, and that mature gravitas seemed out of place.

He wasn’t sure if this was good or bad, but if Melvin deemed it “perfect,” it must be.

Renly raised his right arm high. A well-fitted suit usually has a certain restraint; raising an arm below shoulder level creates tension, revealing the belt and shirt beneath, which could be inappropriate. However, now, as Renly lifted his arm, higher and higher, his right hand stretched past his head, the elbow still unencumbered—although the shirt underneath was visible.

Looking at Melvin in puzzlement, Renly asked, “Isn’t this a sign it’s too large?”

Melvin’s smile faltered slightly.

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T/N – I don’t know anything about tailoring or the suits, so if I translated something incorrectly feel free to tell me down in the comments.

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