A hard-bodied 20-something waiter stopped off to have his work shirts fitted at Seams Unusual on Palace Avenue last week.

“When you are working for tips, you want to look good,” said the young man, who declined to give his name. “It’s only one step below being a prostitute.”

Now that I’ve got your attention ...

Alterations account for about 50 percent of Seams Unusual’s business. The other, more interesting, half is custom clothing.

Ezra Estes and his wife, Laurie Estes, have made clothing for politicians, assassins, diplomatic liaisons, musicians and people who just want to look fly.

They made a tux for a local woman who wanted to look like Marlena Dietrich at her 40th birthday party.

They made a slew of naughty nun outfits for an event at Swig.

They made a white Lycra hologram outfit for a DJ to wear in a gay-pride parade.

And they’ve made a lot of basic pants and skirts and suits (including some for presidential hopeful Bill Richardson).

When I dropped in on the Esteses last week, they were working on a purple silk organza and chiffon wedding dress, complete with custom yarmulke for the bride.

But custom garments needn’t be elaborate getups for special occasions.

Many of the shop’s customers want knock-offs of favorite garments that have worn out or gotten stained or that they’d just like to have in a different color.

Others have fit issues that make it hard for them to find off-the-rack clothes.

Mimi Gordon, 79, of Santa Fe, said she’s had the Esteses make pair of pants for her “because I’m skinny in certain areas and not in others. They are no more expensive than at the stores, and in Santa Fe you can’t find anything small,” she said.

No more expensive is a matter of perception. As Ezra pointed out, “it depends on the store.”

Custom shirts start at about $100 at Seams Unusual. Custom suits start at $450. Depending on the fabric, custom garments can cost thousands.

But such “dream fulfillment,” as Ezra said many of his clients are looking for, allows his customers to envision the perfect garment for them and make it a reality.

Ezra probably is one of his own best custom clients.

He knocked off his favorite pair of Lucky jeans twice, once in ultra-suede and once in black linen, and he’s thinking about doing them again in seersucker.

Referencing his art background, he’s working on a black tank top appliquéd with an image from a Caravaggio painting.

When talking to the trim, eccentric tailor, one gets the feeling he’s from the East Coast. But he’s not.

Ezra Estes actually grew up near Fort Sumner, where he participated in equestrian eventing and sometimes amused fellow ranchers by riding a thoroughbred horse, English style, to chase down stray cows in the bar ditch.

He met Laurie (who is from Chicago) at Eastern New Mexico University in Portales, where she was majoring in home economics and business (though she hated to sew) and he was majoring in animal medicine.

Estes said his grades weren’t good enough to get him into veterinary school, so he switched is major to art (he’d been offered scholarships in both science and art).

After moving to Santa Fe in 1989, Ezra worked for Steven Bailey at Robert R. Bailey’s — arguably Santa Fe’s finest men’s clothing store — where he eventually became assistant manager.

But after three years, Ezra figured the sewing skills he’d inherited from his grandmother (who forced him to help her stitch hems and help lay out patterns for the eventing outfits she made for the family) would serve him well on his own.

Ezra and Laurie worked out of their home for awhile, but have been in their tiny basement atelier on Palace for about seven years.

As Ezra was, his three daughters, Rachel, 9, Emily, 16, and Erica, 19, are similarly forced into child labor at Seams Unusual.

Emily made herself a cashmere bomber jacket last year and Erica has made herself more fashion-forward crinkled silk tops, but Ezra doesn’t see them following in his footsteps.

“They have the talent,” he said. “They can sew, they just would rather not. They’ve grown up being the poor kids who have to hang up garments and vacuum thread off the floor. I understand.”

The youngest, Rachel, is another story.

The flaxen-haired girl enthusiastically showed off a dress she had draped and pinned on a dress form at the shop last week. “I wanted this to be practically like a back vest,” she said, excitedly spinning the form to show the rear view of the very low-backed lavender dress.

“Rachel loves it as long as other people will follow her directions,” Ezra said. Given his Southern New Mexico roots, perhaps Ezra is familiar with the Spanish saying: De tal palo tal astilla — or like parent, like child.

Contact Phaedra Haywood at 986-3004 or phaywood@sfnewmexican.com.