Jerome Ingle-Smith was just seven years old when he took up needlework. Under the watchful eye of his grandmother and seamstress Rosie Roe, he learned the art of stitching, spending long hours with a needle and thread perfecting the skill.
It was his introduction to an artistry that would eventually grow into a lifelong passion. The 42-year-old, from Dún Laoghaire, in South Dublin, is now a master tailor, and this summer opened his own bespoke tailoring service called Olann Glas, which he runs with business partner, Damien McClurg, on Pearse Street in Dublin.
“My grandmother worked for Brendella, which was a big factory in Dún Laoghaire making tailored skirts for women, and the factory and salesroom itself was quite a landmark on Cumberland Street, before it was demolished in 2020,” Ingle-Smith says.
“She also had a side business making wedding dresses and workwear for the women of Dún Laoghaire and she taught me everything I know about needlework. I got the bug from the very start and it felt very natural for me to develop the skill.
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“Tailoring felt like therapy for me because it forced me to concentrate on one thing for hours, whether sewing a lining in a jacket or adding padding stitching. That was essentially monotonous work, but for some reason, it quietened my mind and I could happily stitch for hours on end.”
But it was also the 1911 census which convinced Ingle-Smith he could pursue a career in tailoring. While searching through his family tree, there in black and white was the name of his great-great grandfather, James Kettle, with an occupation registered as “master tailor”.
“I could see how his tailoring knowledge passed down to my grandmother and then on to me,” he says. “The original family tailoring shop was called J.Kettle and also on Cumberland Street, and the more I learned, the more I knew this was the profession I wanted to pursue.”
In 2004, at the age of 22, Ingle-Smith opted to go to London where Savile Row, with its centuries of history steeped in bespoke suit making – Charles Dickens, Winston Churchill, Fred Astaire, and The Beatles were some of those dressed by the many tailors located there – seemed like the perfect place to hone his craft.
Behind the gloss and glamour of its famous customers, life as an apprentice was a laborious and often volatile world.
“It wasn’t uncommon for a mistake to be reprimanded with a shears on the back of the head, so it was old school and quite Victorian and violent in the workrooms, with heavy drinking and smoking,” Ingle-Smith says.
“When I was there it was an exclusively male environment, with the few women in the trade known as ‘finishers’ because men are not great at things like button holes and the final finishing of a garment. The women always sat in the windows of an establishment and their nickname was ‘kippers’ because they always worked in pairs, and kippers were traditionally sold in pairs. But they worked that way because there was and still is a lot of misogyny in that trade and being with another woman was a form of protection from other male tailors.
“I started out as a coat maker because in the tailoring trade everyone has a fixed role and you begin as a ‘trimmer’, somebody who prepares all of the small bits for the tailor to put the garment together. So you choose the thread, you prepare the canvas, you get the correct buttons, and the lining, and then you roll it all together as a prepped bundle for the tailor. This helps you understand your way around all the basic components.
“From there, you either choose to be a trouser maker, who would also make waistcoats, or a coat maker. A trouser maker would make four trousers a week, and a coat maker would make two coats a week.”
As a “piece worker”, Ingle-Smith would be paid on the completion of a coat or jacket. His preference was always to work independently rather than stay with one tailr so he could supply his finished products to several stores. After putting in his time and years, it was a call from his old friend, McClurg, who convinced him to return home to Dublin to work on the idea of creating a taste of Savile Row for Irish men.
McClurg, who already had a day job in transport management, wanted bespoke, high-end tailoring that would bring customers along for the journey from the first measurement to final fitting. And out of that idea grew Olann Glas.
“My parents were butchers on Baggot Street, so I’ve grown up with an appreciation for trades and crafts that brought life into the streets of Dublin,” McClurg says.
“This idea for Olann Glas grew out of a conversation with Jerome over a drink and this was before he had moved back to Dublin, but the seed was planted and we were both thinking about it. When he returned after 20 years in London, he contacted me in March of last year, and we have worked at this since and opened our doors in April of this year on Pearse Street.
“That location was really important to us because it is home to an ageing community, so the character and personality of the street is already there. But it is also a street that deserves to have businesses open and bring more footfall into the area. So it was a happy accident that we ended up here because we had been looking at a post office building in Rathfarnham. This street is surprisingly busy and full of brilliant characters.”
Harking back to a time when it was just as normal to drop into a local shop for a chat, catch up, and a cup of tea – although Ingle-Smith and McClurg will happily share a small gin with a customer towards the end of the working day – the clothing store has already rekindled something of that old custom.
While attending the shop for its Bloomsday celebration with readings from Ulysses, this writer witnessed older Pearse Street residents pop in for a quick chat with the owners, while others wanted to report back on how well a new jacket was wearing, or how a pair of matching trousers might be their next order. They have even had one customer arrive with a roll of tweed that belonged to his grandfather, and who wanted a jacket made in his honour.
And it’s not just new items of clothing that are hand sewn in-store. Ingle-Smith also repairs vintage clothing, with items arriving in that had been hiding in wardrobes for decades, and even charity shop purchases.
“It does feel like a village, and the residents of Pearse Street are very proud of this area so they let us know very quickly that they were happy to see a new business open its doors,” says Ingle-Smith.
“There’s a drug outreach centre on the street that seems to have scared off other businesses from choosing to set up shop here, which is a shame, because we have had no issues or problems with anyone at all. The local community are appreciative of us taking that gamble and they come out in their droves to support us, and I don’t mean they’re all spending money, because a lot of them don’t have that means.
“But there is a cohort of men aged between 50 and 70 years of age who are coming in and saving up to get a sports jacket or something else and who remember a golden time of men’s wear in Dublin when their fathers and grandfathers were always in suits and ties. There’s a sense of wanting to recreate that sense of style and have a piece of clothing that fits perfectly and will stand the test of time.”
