Bike inside one of the old Hoi An family houses.

Hoi An market

Gorilla arms. While not what every girl wants to be called, it is a somewhat accurate description of my gangly limbs. Such arms attached to a tall and thin body make it hard to find dress clothes that fit right. If the torso fits, I’m practically baring my midriff and full-length sleeves become ¾ sleeves. I suppose everyone, gorilla arms or not, has trouble with this and that in terms of clothes fitting properly. In comes the tailor. And those are quite plentiful in Hoi An, where its easier to find a cloth shop than a bowl of pho. So I got a shirt made yesterday to see how it would turn out, and then today I bought four more…and a blazer. Matt placed an order for two shirts (we had to show the seamstress a pre-trip photo of him before she understood that she really did need to add a few inches to his current measurements) and a custom pair of leather shoes. We definitely succumbed to the custom-made craze that permeates the air in Hoi An. All of our new duds will all be ready to pick up by tomorrow afternoon. Maybe we could have found a cheaper place in the city or somewhere else, but frankly, I just tell myself that it’s cheaper than at home. My gorilla arms will hence forth be covered by sleeves that fit.