Wong is tailor-made for his solitary job

jean clothes In the middle of a downtown Salt Lake City block, in a shop that looks like a rummage sale after a hurricane, works Charles Wong. The sign above the door says "United Tailors," but inside you'll find only one tailor, ironing a cuff or leaning over a sewing machine as he's done six days a week for 32 years.    Charlie once tailored clothes for retired Jazz star Karl Malone. He altered a tuxedo for former Utah Jazz player Mike Brown to wear at his wedding, and he tailored some items for Jim Matheson before the congressman left Utah for Washington, D.C. Maybe he's even done some alteration work for you.    "Too big, too small. That's our job," Charlie says, as if there's more than one of him.    Time marches on in Salt Lake City, but Charlie's shop looks like it hasn't changed since the Reagan administration. There's no computer. No cash register. No motorized rack of completed orders. Just Charlie in his black suspenders, surrounded by piles and piles of clothes.    Oh, and his 30-year-old electric typewriter.    When a customer drops off something to be tailored, Charlie types their name, phone number and a brief description of their clothing items: "Tracy, ladies jean." "Archie, 2 gray pants." Last names are optional. After he fills the page he's typing on, he puts it in a three-ring binder, which serves as his log book, then crosses off the orders as he finishes them.   Bundles of tailored clothes stack up on a nearby table, on the mismatched couch and love seat, and on the brown carpeted floor. You wonder how Charlie can ever find anything, but when a customer comes in to pick up her blouse, he roots it out of a pile immediately.    "He appears disorganized, but he's not," says the customer after paying and stepping out onto the sidewalk. "It's all up here," she adds, pointing to her head.    Born 68 years ago in Canton, China, Wong learned his tailoring trade in Hong Kong before coming to Utah in 1973. His wife Helen and three daughters followed shortly afterward. He opened a tailor shop on State Street before moving to his current location at 161 E. 200 South, next to Bar-X. A sign on his counter reads, "Our Store In This City Since June 1st, 1976. Offer Best Service to Customers."    Aside from snapshots of his grandkids, the only flourishes in Charlie's fluorescent-lit shop are a few dusty framed photographs of famous customers. One is a shot of a young Charlie with the late movie actor Cornel Wilde, from "The Greatest Show On Earth." Another is a faded black-and-white head shot of Malone wearing a Jazz musical-note jersey and a full head of hair.    Charlie doesn't have any Jazz customers anymore, but he's busy enough. It helps that he has a reputation for working fast.    "I take a lot of rush orders," he says, his face bending into a smile. "I make more friends that way."    Charlie's only company is a 13-inch TV, usually tuned to CNN. He eats lunch in the shop. Sometimes he gets a little lonely. But he enjoys being his own boss, and there's always another zipper to sew, or an inseam to lengthen.    It's his life's work, done with a good humor that's almost Zen-like.