They've done it again!

Some months back I bought some fabric that I intended to have made into a Marian chasuble. When I finally took it to The House of Hansen a few weeks ago, it occurred to me that I ought to have some of it used on a dalmatic, as well.

The salesman wasn't sure if I had enough material for both a chasuble and a dalmatic so he called out one of her seamstresses.

She measured the fabric many times and played around with a few ideas, bouncing them off of the salesman and me. In the end, I wasn't quite sure what she had in mind, but she was confident she could pull it off.

The salesman called on Friday to tell me the vestments had been finished and the gold galloon I had selected helped make them beautiful. Naturally, I was pleased to hear and was told the vestments would be shipped Monday. They arrived today.

What do you think?

Now I almost wish I had a Saturday morning Mass so I could use them soon.

The black chasuble arrived

A few minutes ago I went over to the office looking for a package that I am expecting to arrive any day now. There was indeed a package on my desk, but not the one for which I was looking, but a far better one.

Two and a half weeks ago I stopped in to The House of Hansen on the way back from the work camp to order a black chasuble for use at funerals and on All Souls' Day. It arrived today:

The new vestment

It is with great pleasure that I present to you pictures of my new gold chasuble made by the fine folks at The House of Hansen:

There is yet one question that remains: When do I first celebrate Mass in this chasuble: the Solemnity of the Annunciation, the Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday or at the Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter on Holy Saturday?

The House of Hansen also makes a chasuble with this banding in black that is breath-taking. I think I'll be ordering it in time for All Souls' Day.

On liturgical vesture

The New Liturgical Movement points our attention to Pauline Johnstone's book, High Fashion in the Church. Judging from Shawn Tribe's review, it's a book I shouldn't mind having.

In his review, he quotes Fr. Jerome Bertram's words written in the foreword to the book:

Among the treasures of ecclesiastical art, not the least important are the vestments. They were not made to enhance the priest but rather to humiliate him. The priest in his own clothes is only himself, and can attract people or repel them by his own character and his own abilities, or lack of them. But once vested in the raiment of the church, he ceases to be himself, he 'puts on Christ', speaking not in his own name but in that of the church. Vestments are a continual reminder to the priest that he is nothing, only the mouthpiece of the church at the service of the people; they are a continual reminder to the people that the man inside them does not matter, but only the eternal priesthood. They are not the property of the priest to display his affluence or his poverty; they are the property of the whole church, beautiful things for performing the service of the poor. Beauty and colour, splendour and art are offered for all to see and appreciate, so that the poorest outcast may enjoy treasures such that in other societies only the rich can see.

An excellent reminder very well stated.

Real priests wear rose

Society is a most curious collection of people with often contradictory views.

In recent years we have been told - frequently and loudly - that "real men wear pink." Boys are now wearing pink polos and business executives - and lackeys - are wearing pink oxfords.

Take it for what it is worth. It might be right; it might be wrong. Either way, this man does not wear pink, nor do I own anything pink, or with pink in it.

I thought about that phrase, "real men wear pink," as parishioners - and maybe others - either chuckled quietly as I walked by in a rose chasuble this weekend or proffered comments such as, "Father, you look good in rose," with a grin.

If real men do indeed wear pink, why is it such a big - and even laughable - event when a priest or deacon wears rose vestments, as prescribed by Holy Mother Church? If real men wear pink, real priests wear rose, at least according to Fr. Z.

I don't at all mind wearing rose twice each year, and I quiet look forward to it each Advent and Lent.

I simply wish that people would be reasonable and consistent.

Enjoyable learning

It's homecoming week at the high school and I've just returned from the basketball game at which the King and Queen were announced.

After the game, which we won, I stopped in the multi-purpose room where decorations were being set up for tomorrow evening's homecoming dance. I almost didn't stop in (I have Mass at 6:30 in the morning), but something told me I should pop in to see how things were going. I'm glad I did.

As no small number of girls arranged balloons and hung banners and the like, I started talking with a couple of freshmen boys who were just standing around. One of them was even trying to hide around a corner as some of the girls were trying to recruit his help; he didn't want to work.

I told him if was going to stay around - which he was - he might as well help. He said he'd help if he could wear my capello Romano, my Roman hat. I agreed and handed it to him. The other boy decided it was time to wear my cape.

I spent the next several minutes showing them the proper way to walk while wearing a cape so your shoulders don't bounce from side to side (it makes you look silly even when not wearing a cape). Then I had to correct their hands as they walked with their hands folded, as I do at Mass; their fingers needed a bit of straightening. Next came lessons in genuflecting (they seemed to have forgotten that you go down on your right knee), followed by lessons in cape twirling. It was a blast and provided no small amusement to the workers around us.

After about twenty minutes of this it was time for me to return to the rectory. I'm not sure if the boys ever did help with the decorations, but they learned a lot tonight.

It's amazing what happens when you wear funny hats and capes (they want me to wear the biretta more often). People really are drawn to them.

On religious garb

Isn't it curious how several things often unexpectedly come together?

This morning I saw a news report about an Anglican thoelogian, the Rev. Andrew Atherstone, who claims, according to the headline, that the wearing of robes is absurd and that ecclesiastical vesture belong to a "bygone world." Atherstone says, "Robes can be a barrier to mission, a hindrance rather than a help."

I couldn't disagree with him more. Granted, Atherstone is an Anglican, but there seem to be a few Catholics - albeit they a shrinking number - who would suggest the same, at least terms of clerical attire outside of the Liturgy.

Thinking back to the conversations had last evening at the volleyball game with the high school students, what I was wearing? A cassock. And a cape (at least at first). They were disappointed that I didn't have my saturno with me.

Atherstone asks, "Let members ask themselves whether there are not occasions...when they have been embarrassed by, or found evangelism hindered by, the clergyman up front in robes, looking a right wally?" Perhaps there are such occassions. But there are surely similar occassions when parishioners are "embarrassed" by clergy not dressed as clergy.

From my own experiences, Atherstone's argument is quite false. Are there those who would prefer I not wear a cassock. Of course there are. But there seem to be many more who are glad I wear it, so I shall keep it wearing it. Besides, it's much more comfortable than a suit.

I also found this morning Fr. Longenecker's post regarding a new book he is writing. The new book, The Romance of Religion, will be about "the ridiculous-ness of religion, the absurdity of the quest and the glorious and valiant tilting at windmills which we call Catholicism." I'm intrigued.

He says:

Despite the lack of interest in my scribblings, I am writing this book as an act of noble, and faintly ridiculous badinage with badness. It is my joust with the jesters of the world, my own quixotic attempt to be Quixote. I don't expect it to be a best seller. I don't expect it to change much at all. Like the dog who barks at the train, I bark not because I expect the train to stop, but because I am a dog.

I am inspired in this effort by all those priests who proudly wear ridiculous clothes like cassocks and capes. Are they not the last vestigial vestments of the romantic heroes of old? I write as a salute to monks in cowls and Cardinals in Cappa Magnas, a pope who wears (like Dorothy) ruby slippers that might just carry him home. I write to honor clergy in lace cottas and Monsignors who hold their heads high as they wear sashes of scarlet and birettas with purple pompons. I write to honor the Knights of Columbus with their capes, their swords and their pomade hats.

I salute all those who, like the mouse Reepicheep, fight the giants of the day, or like the boy David, slay the Philistines. The book will be about just that--the need to fight the good fight and be a romantic warrior in a world of useful things. It will encourage us all to find the key to the costume cupboard, dust off that cape, shine the broadsword, don the rubber nose and false moustache and the broad brimmed hat, replace the white plume and be a liturgical Lancelot or a ceremonial Cyrano de Bergerac.

Yes, let us all be fools for Christ. Somehow it attracts people.

Homily - 24 August 2008

Today, Peter confesses Jesus as “the Messiah, the Son of the living God” and Jesus gives him “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” with the power to “bind” and to “loose” (Matthew 16:16, 19-20).

To recognize Jesus as the Messiah is to acknowledge the truth of the words announced to Mary:

He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end (Luke 1:32-33).

Jesus’ kingdom, then, is the Kingdom of David, Israel.

In the first reading the Lord says to Shebna, then Master of the Palace, “I will throw you down from your office” because he has become a “disgrace to [his] master’s house” (Isaiah 22:19, 18).

The Master of the Palace was the highest official in the Kingdom of Israel. He served in the capacity of what might be called a Regent, a Prime Minister, or a Vizier, as Joseph was in the land of Egypt (cf. Genesis 41:40). There was no one above the Master of the Palace but the King himself.

The King entrusted his own authority to his Master of the Palace, which is why “when he opens, no one shall shut, when he shuts, no one shall open” (Isaiah 22:22). The Master of the Palace acted in the name of the King and possessed the King’s authority. To disobey him was to disobey the King.

The Lord God pulled Shebna down from his office as Master of the Palace (cf. Isaiah 22:19) because he looked to the Pharaoh of Egypt for deliverance from Sennacherib, King of Assyria. Shebna trusted in mere men and did not rely on the help of the Lord God; this is his disgrace.

Taking from Shebna his robe, his sash and his authority the Lord God entrusted them to Eliakim, making him the new Master of the Palace. The Lord further placed upon Eliakim “the key of the House of David” (Isaiah 22:22).

But what has this to do with Peter? Jesus himself told Pontius Pilate, “My kingdom does not belong to this world” (John 18:36). Yet, he sent the Apostles in his name, telling them to announce, “The kingdom of God is at hand for you” (Luke 10:9).

Yes, the kingdom of Jesus is not an earthly, temporal kingdom. It is an eternal kingdom, a kingdom without end, one not bound by time and place. His kingdom, his reign, extends beyond that of Israel.

The Lord first made his covenant with Israel to foreshadow the covenant he would make with all of humanity. In the fullness of time, the Son of God sealed “the new and everlasting covenant” with the new Israel in his own blood. Through his appointment of the Twelve Apostles, Jesus makes clear that “the definitive time has arrived in which to constitute the new People of God, the people of the twelve tribes, which now becomes a universal people, his Church.”[1] It is the Church, founded upon the rock of Peter, which is the new Israel.

We see, then, in this passage from Saint Matthew’s Gospel, that Jesus uses three symbols regarding his Church:

Peter will be the rocky foundation on which he will build the edifice of the Church; he will have the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven to open or close it to people as he sees fit; lastly, he will be able to bind or to loose, in the sense of establishing or prohibiting whatever he deems necessary for the life of the Church. It is always Christ’s Church, not Peter’s.[2]

Peter did not make the Church; he received it from Christ Jesus. Peter did not create his faith; he received it from the Father. Peter is not free to do with the Church whatever he wishes, but only what is the will of the Lord. Peter is, as it were, not the King but the Master of the Palace; Peter speaks not in his own name, but in the name of Jesus Christ.

It was always thus with Peter and it has been thus with his successors, the Bishops of Rome, down to our present Holy Father, gloriously reigning, Pope Benedict XVI. As it is for the Popes, so it is for the Bishops and priests, as well. We speak not in our name, but in the name of Jesus Christ.

There is a valuable lesson for us in this: the Church is not ours to fashion as we wish, nor is the faith ours from which we can pick and choose. The Church is Christ’s and the task of the Pope, together with the Bishops and their priests, is to preserve the Church and to hand on the faith received from the Father. We see this symbolized in the vestments a priest wears for the celebration of the Holy Mass. Just as the Master of Palace was clothed in robes and girded with a sash, so are the priests of the New Covenant (cf. Isaiah 22:21).

A priest first puts on an amice, a rectangular cloth that covers the collar of his shirt or cassock. It hides his “street clothes” and symbolizes the helmet of salvation (cf. Ephesians 6:17). It reminds him that what he is about is not ordinary and is far from routine.

A priest then puts on an alb, a long, white robe that covers his body from his neck to his feet. It symbolizes the garment first received in Baptism when each of the baptized is made a new creation and is welcomed into the life of the Church. When putting on the alb, the priest recalls that he, with all of the baptized, has been clothed in Christ (cf. Galatians 3:27).

Next he wraps a cincture around his waist, a rope, the symbol of celibacy, freely accepted for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.

He then places a stole around his neck, the symbol of his authority as a priest of Jesus Christ, as one who speaks in his name and acts in his person.

Over all these vestments he places the chasuble, the symbol of the love of Christ which is to cover all things (cf. Colossians 3:14).

All of these sacred vestments serve to depersonalize the priest; it is not the individual priest that matters, but Christ. By diminishing his personality we see not the individual priest but Christ, who is sacramentally present in him.

Through the sacred vestments we are reminded that it is not my Church or our Church, but Christ’s Church, which he entrusted to Peter and to his successors. Let each of us, then, humbly look to the Successor of Saint Peter and hear in his voice the voice of Christ. Amen.

[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Wednesday Audience, 15 March 2006.
[2] Ibid., 7 June 2006.

A shopping trip

Yesterday my Pastor took his nephew, father and I on a little trip to Chicago. We went to take his nephew - who is returning to the seminary this fall - to one of my favorite shops, The House of Hansen.

Hansen's, as we usually call it, is an ecclesiastical tailor shop that produces very nice vestments at very reasonable prices. Their friendly and helpful staff is most accomodating and can produce just about anything you have in mind. And if what you have in mind simply won't work they aren't afraid to offer other suggestions.

While there I was able to doublecheck the status of a couple of things they are working on for me, most notably a new surplice (which was being worked on when we were there and will hopefully arrive sometime next week) and a new winter cloak that will reach down to my ankles. They're also working on a few older vestments of mine which are in need of mending.

Their web site is small and only has a small selection of the vestments they can and have produced.

The House of Hansen is even thoughtful enough as to keep the measurements of deacons, priests and bishops "on file" in case we ever want something but can't make the trip up. It also comes in handy if you want to get your bishop or priest or deacon something as a surprise.

If you ever need any vesture, the House of Hansen receives my high regards (and be sure to give my greetings to Jerry).

I mentioned my shopping trip yesterday on Facebook and one of my friends asked what vestment shopping was like. She said,

So I have to ask, do you actually go like real shopping for vestments? Like how I would shop for shirts, seeing what size fits you best. What shade of a particular color looks best on you? Or do you just go pick up generic vestments in whatever size you are?

I suppose the answer to the question would depend on where one went to purchase vestments. There are certainly plenty of suppliers who simply order something out of a catalogue. These usually are made in several sizes and then you would try on a few to see which size fit best; you'd want to remember the size if you wanted to order something else. Even so, some of these companies will also tailor a vestment to you if you give them the proper measurements.

Ecclesiastical tailors, on the other hand, are not as easy to come by but the quality of vestment is usually rather better. These vestments are tailored to fit the individual minister better than would, say, one from a catalogue.

In terms of color, that isn't so much an issue as the Liturgy requires we wear certain colors on certain days, but the particular shade of a color could be chosen. There are, for example, numerous shades of green and some priests prefer one shade over another (I prefer the darker hues).

To sum up, vestment shopping is something like shopping for "normal people" clothes, but not quite; it's a lot more fun.

After shopping there we took a little trip north to Arlington Heights to visit the Design Toscano showroom, another of my favorite companies. I'm happy to say that although they had one of my favorite chairs on display, I resisted the temptation to buy it.

Upon our return to Effingham I was pleased to find the box of goodies I shipped from Australia.

I always get a little excited about wearing red on the feasts of martyrs and yesterday morning I was almost giddy about wearing red for today's patronal feast of my parish.

It was not until halfway through the afternoon yesterday that I realized that we don't, in fact, wear red on the Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, but white.

This set me pondering the reason for this.

Typically, of course, we celebrate the dies natali of a saint, the day on which they enteral everlasting life, more commonly called the day we died. Using this logic we would wear red for Saint John the Baptist who suffered the martyr's death.

However, today we celebrate the birth of the Forerunner of the Lord, and not his death; thus, we wear white. But why?

I cannot help but wonder if we wear white because John came as "a light to the nations" (Isaiah 49:6). It is as though, as the Fathers so often spoke of the Church, that John reflects the coming Light of the World as the moon reflects the light of the sun (John 8:12).

In his encyclical, Spe salvi, Pope Benedict XVI noted that

The true stars of our life are the people who have lived good lives. They are lights of hope. Certainly, Jesus Christ is the true light, the sun that has risen above all the shadows of history. But to reach him we also need lights close by—people who shine with his light and so guide us along our way (49).

The Holy Father then reflects on Mary, the Star of the Sea, but I think the same could well be applied to the Baptizer.

John is the light that always shines on Christ, and for this reason we wear white on this, his Solemnity.

Papal chasubles

Browsing around a bit this morning I see the Euro Clero now offers a couple of chasubles (red and green) that Pope Benedict XVI has worn:

Splendid vestments

I've just stumbled upon a vestment site I'd not previously seen: Susan Maria Liturgical Studio. The vestments are splendid!

It has shipped

I just received word that a cassock I ordered from Barbiconi in Rome (complete with piping and fascia hoops) shipped yesterday.

This pleases me very much since it should arrive prior to the Bishop's visit on Tuesday - or perhaps that very day - when he will administer the Sacrament of Confirmation.

At 12:54 p.m. today (presumably London time), the cassock departed Heathrow airport, for an unspecified destination.

A liturgical question

Last night I was asked if it is appropriate for a priest to celebrate the Liturgy of the Word with only an alb and stole but to put the chasuble on for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, which was apparently done recently in a church not too far me.

I’m not sure when this practice began or, really, what the notion behind it is, but it is not allowed.

Let us consult the General Instruction of the Roman Missal:

In the sacristy, the sacred vestments for the priest, the deacon, and other ministers are to be prepared according to the various forms of celebration [Mass with or without a deacon, a concelebrated Mass, etc.]:

a. For the priest: the alb, the stole, and the chasuble;
b. For the deacon: the alb, the stole, and the dalmatic; the dalmatic may be omitted, however, either out of necessity or on account of a lesser degree of solemnity;
c. For the other ministers: albs or other lawfully approved attire (119).

It would be most foolish to require a chasuble to be prepared and not worn by the priest. Indeed, “once the people have gathered, the priest and ministers, clad in the sacred vestments, go in procession to the altar” (GIRM, 120).

Besides, “the vestment proper to the priest celebrant at Mass and other sacred actions directly connected with Mass is, unless otherwise indicated [in the liturgical books], the chasuble, worn over the alb and stole” (GIRM, 337).

In a concelebrated Mass, should “a good reason arise (e.g., a large number of concelebrants or a lack of vestments), concelebrants other than the principal celebrant may omit the chasuble and simply wear the stole over the alb” (209, emphasis added). Even so, “where a need of this kind can be foreseen … provision should be made for it insofar as possible” (Redemptionis sacramentum, 124).

I did not ask whether this particular priest was a concelebrant; even if he was, what he did is still not allowed, as we shall soon see.

It would be a very rare day indeed when such arrangements could not be made, especially considering that the chasubles worn by the concelebrants need not match: “Out of necessity the concelebrants other than the principal celebrant may even put on white chasubles” (Redemptionis sacramentum, 124). I will certainly admit, though, that a matching set of chasubles is much more pleasing to the eye, and less distracting.

The notion of putting the chasuble on only for the Liturgy of the Eucharist really makes little sense and, at least as far as I am aware, has no place in the tradition of the Church. The Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist “are so closely interconnected that they form but one single act of worship” (GIRM, 28). Consequently, it makes no sense to treat them as though they were two separate actions, either by a differentiation of vesture or by a differentiation of location (which is also forbidden, though I cannot now recall where). Even in those instances where the priest may wear a cope during the procession, as on Palm Sunday (but not at the Easter Vigil, as much as I would like too), he removes the cope once the procession has arrived:

When the priest comes to the altar he venerates it and may also incense it. Then he goes to his chair (removes the cope and puts on the chasuble) and begins immediately the opening prayer of Mass (Passion Week, Palm Sunday).

It might also be noted that such a practice of donning the chasuble after the Liturgy of the Word has been expressly forbidden:

The abuse is reprobated whereby the sacred ministers celebrate Holy Mass or other Rites without the sacred vestments or with only a stole over the monastic cowl or the common habit of religious or ordinary clothes, contrary to the prescriptions of the liturgical books, even when there is only one minister participating (Redemptionis sacramentum, 126).

The books are closed; the discussion is ended.

Why do some priests ignore the liturgical law? Sadly, in some instances so many priests have disregarded the liturgical books that it makes those of us who do our best to follow them look as though we are inventing strange practices when, in reality, we are only doing what should have been done all along.

Speaking of vestments

...here is the rose vestment that I will wear this weekend for Gaudete Sunday:

What think you?

The other day I read a chapter of Adrian Fortescue entitled "The Vestments of the Roman Rite" that I found online.



I agreed with much of he says and would like to ask your thought about one of his comments. He writes:

And do not think that a beautiful vestment must be covered with embroidery. Embroidery may be most beautiful. But nearly all now is very bad; not because it is badly worked, but because it is badly designed. If you want embroidery you must get an artist, a real artist, to design it. Plenty of people can work it. But, meanwhile, you can make most beautiful vestments with no embroidery at all. A fine, rich, heavy silk of good colour, well shaped and falling into massive folds, will make as splendid a vestment as one could see.

I think I agree with him, but I'm not quite sure.



Take this vestment, for example, from the Holy Rood Guild:

I've often thought about purchasing it, but I'm not sure if, 1) I would wear it much or 2) if the people would appreciate it. What do you think?

Where have all the copes gone?

A friend recently asked me if I have any copes in my possession, a question which has given me the occassion for this post.

I do indeed have a cope. In fact, I have five: one white, one red, one violet, one gold and one for Marian feasts (which also happens to be white).

We, sadly, do not see much of copes any more, at least not here in the United States of America. I am not entirely sure why this is, though I do, naturally, have a couple of thoughts.

As has been noted here, few parishes have a large selection of vestments and not too many priests seem to have their own personal collection.

When you enter a church sacristy you ought to ask to see the vestments; it's usually a good time. This priest is always happy to show them to people, both my personal collection and that of the parish.

If you do, as I often do, I think you'll be surprised to find very few - if any - copes in most parishes. Here at St. Anthony of Padua parish we happily have several copes, one red, one violet, one white and one gold that I can think of off the top of my head. We might even have a couple more.

Given that copes used to be seen frequently many years ago, we might ask the obvious question: where have they gone? Sadly, many have somehow found their way into priests' private collections - often rarely worn, or they somehow find their way on to eBay, the world's largest sale of unwanted things (this is probably a more accurate term than "garage" or "yard" sale, though I'm sure you could buy those, too), and in some cases no doubt both are true. And yet, others seem to be spirited away in the dead of night by gnomes or some other fantastic creature.

Why don't more priests wear copes more frequently? I'm not sure, though I suspect a certain amount of apathy or laziness has something to do with it, in addition to the scarcity of them.
If memory serves, the most common reason I hear from my brother priests as to why they don't often wear copes is two-fold:

1. they aren't necessary, and


2. the people don't like them (along with incense, chant, the organ, the biretta, cassock, surplice, processions, etc., etc., etc.)

While the first part is certainly true, the second is certainly not.

I wear a cope for baptisms and weddings outside of Mass, vigil services at funeral homes, funerals outside of Mass, sometimes at the cemetery (depending on moisture levels), communal penance services (which are not the same as general absolution), Vespers when we have it, and at various blessings to boot.

Not once has someone told me they didn't like the cope. The contrary, though, is quite true. People like liturgical vesture and they have a right to see and enjoy it. It is part of the Roman Liturgy after all. Such vesture is beautiful and all things of true beauty lead to God, who is Beauty itself.

If you would like to see more copes being worn, you might consider getting a few of your friends to go in together to give a cope to your parish for the anniversary of your parish, the feast day of your parish, or even the anniversary of your pastor.

The move of the green vestments

With the conclusion of the season of Easter with yesterday's celebration of Pentecost, the time has come to bring my green chasubles from my suite to the sacristy. As I was hanging them in the sacristy I thought you might like to see them. Here they are:

New threads

Here I am standing this afternoon inside the church in my new surplice:

I hate posing for pictures...

Mother Theresa would pray for the souls in Purgatory every time her picture was taken. Bishop Lucas last night told me he prays for vocations with every picture taken. I'll have to find a prayer request during pictures, too. I suspect it will be vocations. Currently my picture - thankfully - is not taken enough to be too concerned about it.

The albs were taken to a seamstress this afternoon and she expects to have the alterations completed by Tuesday afternoon.

An update on "the order"

I have retrieved my albs from the dry cleaners and I regret to say that they did not shrink one little bit. I know, I know, usually this is a good things.

Now it means that the albs will have to be just slightly altered, both at the sleeves and at the bottom. Before class I'll do some local investigating to have them altered. My only concern here is with the pleats...