As for how many days a week this 91-year-old man works? âOnly seven,â he quipped. Because for Cuevas, sitting behind the machine â[is] not work,â he says. âI get a kick out of this.â
And while Cuevas can swap stories with ease, he falls into a silent focus when behind the sewing machine. Heâs coy about how long it may take to produce a suit or what client he may be working with next; he offers little more than a subtle wink when asked about the dayâs work. And despite the praise from those around him, he still makes an occasional error. âWe make mistakes every day or else it doesnât feel good,â he says.
He works to understand the people who step into his shop for a fitting. After all, someone doesnât dress Johnny Cash as the âMan In Blackâ without picking up on a few personality traits. Presley wanted to be like Marlon Brando, for example, but Cuevas says he knew that this singer from Tupelo, Mississippi, needed his own style, and thatâs what he gave him. Stuart has experienced this instinct firsthand for decades, from when he met Cuevasâthe designer gifted him a shirt from Nudieâs shop because he was a few thousand dollars short of affording a full suitâto moments when he needed a friend.
âThat friendship, a lot of times when I get lost spiritually, emotionally, physically, I go out and watch him sew,â Stuart says. âThatâs where heâs really at home, when heâs at the machine. Heâs a storyteller. I find my way, watching him do his thing.â
And like the best Cuevas jackets, his work may be imitated for years to come. But no one can replicate the man behind the sewing machine. Or, as he says in a pause between time-traveling stories, âI love my life.â