By Maggie Severns | Photographs by Valerie Plesch for WSJ

The MAGA movement has its own private club and restaurant in D.C. Now Trump acolytes have their own tailor, too.

A Pentecostal pastor from Mississippi has emerged as the sartorial cog in Washington's new Republican machine.

From his row house near Capitol Hill, Nathaniel Rios serves a rapidly expanding roster of lawmakers, aides and White House staff who tend to favor snug fits and lots of pro-Trump flair.

Trump aide Justin Caporale sports one with "America First" embroidered above the inner breast pocket -- and a replica print of Emanuel Leutze's "Washington Crossing the Delaware" lining the inside. With a closet full of navy blue, Caporale said, "it just felt right."

Some customers want a jacket lined with Donald Trump's mug shot. "It's a show of appreciation," said Raheem Kassam, who co-owns the MAGA world's favorite French bistro and proudly owns a mug shot suit.

Former House Speaker Kevin McCarthy has a Rios-crafted jacket lined with a photo of himself presiding over the House floor. McCarthy said he originally conceived of the idea as a gag gift for a colleague but decided to keep it. "It makes it yours, you know," he said of the photo.

Washington is one of the last places in America where men wear suits to work. Pro-Trump Republicans have honed a particular style: Many like their suit jackets tighter. Some get their pants cropped.

Today's Republican aesthetic has moved away from the classic tailoring of the Ronald Reagan era, said menswear critic Derek Guy.

"Part of it may be that they associate that old Brooks Brothers look with the swamp," Guy said, "and they don't want to look like the swamp."

Trump himself wears the classic style.

Standing outside the House of Representatives' floor and gesturing toward his colleagues as they voted on a bill, Florida Rep. Greg Steube said the traditional look embraced by many on Capitol Hill could use a refresh.

"These guys need help," Steube joked. He said he is too tall and slim to buy an off-the-rack suit "from JCPenney, or Dillard's, or whatever -- it would look horrible on me." He met Rios through a Republican fundraiser and recently completed his first order: A navy suit with a subtle red check and a lining that depicts Florida's red-and-white state flag.

Rios, 47 years old, didn't set out to be a tailor to political stars.

In need of extra money to support his family after moving to Mississippi 15 years ago to start a church, he eventually took a job as a suit salesman with Jos. A. Bank.

One day a University of Mississippi alum who had been drafted by the Los Angeles Dodgers, Errol Robinson, called up Rios to ask for a sportcoat he could wear when he returned to his alma mater. One problem: Rios had quit his job after the store asked him to work on Sundays.

After procuring a coat for Robinson, Rios asked his then 15-year-old son if he wanted to start a suit company of their own.

During a trip to Washington, Rios was introduced to an aide to now-Sen. Jim Banks, of Indiana, who asked if he'd like to fit some friends for suits. One fitting turned into several. At one point, dozens of lawmakers and staff were cramming into hotel rooms to get measured by Rios and two of his sons.

Rios insists he welcomes customers of all politics. (His company's name, the Blue Thread Project, suggests he didn't set out to appeal to the right.)

Last year Rios and family leased a home near the U.S. Capitol where they now meet clients and stay when they're in town. A hat in his living room reads, "TRUMP WAS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING." There are plans for another location in West Palm Beach, Fla., where they will sell upmarket Italian-made suits.

Until recently Rios sold suits starting around $300 each, a price that the company could manage because it sends its designs to China, Thailand and Vietnam, where the suits are made.

Rios raised starting prices above $500 a suit after Trump's tariffs and other overhead increased his costs. Some customers have complained.

"It's been a little painful," said Rios.

One recent evening just after the House finished a series of votes, lawmakers and staff from both chambers, as well as two Trump administration aides, filtered in and out of the living room of Rios's row house. Some grabbed coffee from a Keurig machine. The dining room table was covered with books of fabric samples and a clothing rack was stocked with suits and shirts for pickup. Nearby sat a copy of "The Preacher and the Presidents," a book about the evangelist Billy Graham.

Florida Rep. Aaron Bean arrived wearing a suit made by Rios that hugged his broad chest and was adorned with a ticket pocket, a nod to men's tailoring selected by Rios. Bean said he mostly follows Rios's lead when it comes to fashion.

"It's like walking into Home Depot and you want to pick out a color of paint, and there's like 1,000 choices," Bean said.

Behind Bean, a House aide flipped through fabric samples. Across the room, an aide to Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, one of Trump's chief trade negotiators, bemoaned his busy workload.

Asked if it's an issue that Rios's suits are made in countries ensnared in tariff politics, the aide said: "No comment on that."

Corey Norman, who in January moved from the House to the Senate with his boss, now-Sen. John Curtis, tried on two plaid sport coats -- one lined with drawings of light blue, yellow and red football helmets and another with drawings of a dog wearing a bow tie and glasses.

"I just want to be as obnoxious as possible," said Norman as he inspected his new jackets. "I want to walk down the hall and for people to say, 'You obviously are new to this operation.'"

Write to Maggie Severns at maggie.severns@wsj.com

(END) Dow Jones Newswires

June 17, 2025 05:30 ET (09:30 GMT)

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