A simple sign, "Joseph Martin, Bespoke Tailor Since 1895", is the only hint to a passerby that behind the calm exterior of an outer shop dominated by large mirrors and bales of fabrics is a hive of activity where made-to-measure clothes have been painstakingly produced by four generations of one Sligo family.
Inside, shiny gold buttons are hand-sewn on to a dress uniform to be worn by an officer at forthcoming celebrations to mark the 80th anniversary of the Air Corps.
Along the walls hang finished garments for private clients, a pin-stripe suit for a judge, a black cashmere coat, a pale green suit in soft tweed for a German businessman. These are fabrics that ask to be touched.
Tiny hand-sewn stitches visible on the inside lining are another telltale sign that these are clothes at the other end of the spectrum from their mass-produced cousins churned out by factories in the Far East.
The family firm is now run by Joseph Martin jnr, but his father Joseph snr, at age 88, still takes an active interest in the business he developed after returning from London during the second World War. His father before him, who learned the skills of tailoring from his uncle, opened a business in Ballisodare in 1895.
Based in Sligo, the firm has premises in Fitzwilliam Square in Dublin and also the use of a Savile Row office to meet London clients. Today J. Martin and Son is one of only about five bespoke tailors left in the country. But demand for made-to-measure clothes is not necessarily declining. Joseph jnr explains that,with a full-time staff of seven, they are operating at full capacity. The booming economy has meant that people who before might order one suit a year can now afford two.
And many clients order three or four a year. The main problem today is that the availability of skilled labour is rapidly declining.
"We operate at the top end of the market in quality and price terms, but our product is very good value for money, I firmly believe that," he says.
The average man's suit costs about €800. For that the customer gets to choose the fabric, style and fit. Apart from the bales of fabrics piled high in the shop, there are also hundreds of samples from textile producers around the world which can be ordered.
Another advantage for a client who might be battling with a growing waistline is the fact that garments are cut to allow for such expansion if he returns with it after a year or two.
Many tools of the trade have changed little over the decades. A measuring tape hangs around Joseph Martin's neck as he deftly uses giant tailor's shears to cut out a jacket. Patterns cut from brown paper, with customers' names and dates, hang on the wall behind. In some ways production had moved with the times: a button hole, which took 10 minutes by hand, can now be done to perfection by a machine in a matter of seconds. But there is still a lot of handwork, and it is this that makes made-to-measure clothes different. Each client is also given a fitting before the garment is completed.
Many customers are professionals or business people, and they are not all necessarily very wealthy, according to Joseph Martin. But there have been customers for whom money has been no object, for example, a Middle Eastern client who ordered a vicuna overcoat a couple of years ago, for which the fabric alone cost £8,000. The firm actually took out special insurance in case of any mishap in production. The vicuna fabric is made from the wool of a type of llama.
Mr Martin snr, who took regular trips to the US to meet clients, was introduced to one wealthy customer there through a friend who was a racing correspondent. In one of the best orders of his career, the racegoer order a vicuna overcoat and six suits.
He trained with Savile Row tailors during the 1930s, but returned to his father's business in Sligo when the war broke out. At that time all the large shops employed their own tailors. One shop in Sligo had 20.
"When I saw the standard of dress in Ireland at that time, I thought it would be a poor showing if I didn't make a good living at it. I considered what I was turning out was better even than what was being produced in Dublin, and I believed if people saw the quality, they would come to me," he says.
It's a belief that appears to have been well founded. The business has thrived because customers keep coming back and also recommend it to others. This week in Dublin, Joseph got a call from an American who was visiting for a conference who had bought a suit from his father in the States 15 years ago.
So the demand may still be there, but the tradition of bespoke tailoring may soon die out in Ireland because people are not learning the skills.