Visit Your Local Upholstery Shop—Before It’s Too Late

Perhaps I owe the reader an apology for this title, as you may live in an area where niche businesses like upholstery shops aren’t under threat of gentrification. But one look at Galvez Upholstery, a lone outpost in a neglected Houston postmodern office park that faces a row of freshly-minted, prairie-style townhomes, certainly provides a chilling effect to the automotive enthusiast.

I met Mr. Galvez (no first name, please; he said he doesn’t need the attention) during the height of the pandemic, and his passion for the craft was obvious. He was willing to work on a small project—stitching up a tear and installing NOS seat foam—and warned me of potential pitfalls. I have worked with other upholstery shops in the past, and none had given me such a detailed assessment of the job. It’s clear that Galvez’s deep-seated knowledge of the upholstery process meant he already had a plan for any project, and any level of concern from a customer could be met with the perfect choices in customer-soothing words.

I knew that one day I’d need Galvez’s services again. Which is why, after trying dry ice detailing, I decided he was the person to address another issue with my 1974 Mercury Montego MX Brougham, the car I recently purchased because of how similar it is to the one that brought me home from the hospital as a newborn. But before that, perhaps I owe you another apology.

I’ve misrepresented and undersold this car because it’s actually a 1974 Mercury Montego MX Brougham with Custom Trim Option. Those last four words mean it has unique split bench seats, while every other Montego had a regular bench seat. And the split bench was wrapped in two shades of vinyl surrounding a gradient of yellow-green velour. That decadent material was formed in a pattern worthy of the recliner from the TV show Frasier. Like, awesome.

I first learned about the Custom Trim Option in the early 2000s, when vintage sales brochures were listed on eBay in earnest. I knew one day I’d own a Montego with this fabric, as it’s a full two levels higher than the “MX” grade Montego of my childhood. In a blatant abuse of my power as an automotive journalist, I asked the folks at the Ford Heritage Vault for more interior pictures of the car with a name longer than its wheelbase. I was shocked when they found two original photos of the seats.

Seeing them in their original condition certainly helped motivate me to fix the ones in my Montego. But motivation can turn into terrifying acts of failed restorations, as what was unique in 1974 becomes impossible to reproduce fifty years later. The problem was two-fold, as ripped vinyl and disintegrated seat foam in the driver’s seat made the Montego a bit uncomfortable for most posteriors.

The previous owner had stuffed an index card into the split. I tolerated that because replacement vinyl in matching colors and textures could be impossible to source. The factory photos from Ford were nice, but whatever I used needed to match what I see before my eyes in the year 2024.

Addressing the disintegrated padding was clearly a job for a pro like Galvez, so I pulled both front seats so he could equalize the padding across both. Upon my arrival, he wheeled a dolly out to my truck so I could get the seats over to his workspace. (He was recovering from surgery at the time, and I could expedite things if I did the heavy lifting while his assistant was out.) Once in his workshop, one of the rolls of material pictured behind the seat came shockingly close to matching my cream-colored vinyl. Could it be that easy? But color is only one of two elements needed to successfully address a partial re-upholstery job, and sadly the texture of the vinyl was wrong for a 1970s automobile interior.

Galvez spotted the issue right away, the mark of an upholsterer who truly cares about a proper seat restoration. While he headed off to find more vinyl samples, I yanked out the index card jammed into the hole by the last owner, stuffing this bit of accurately toned vinyl in its place. That was an improvement, but Galvez had more to show.

He brought out several books of vinyl, and one had a grain that matched whatever vinyl Ford spec’d for the Montego MX Brougham with Custom Trim Option. I quickly pushed aside the color samples to get to the selection of whites, creams, and off-whites. One of the whites in that selection matched remarkably well at first glance, and it was called “Ivory.”

I took a close look at the other whites (there were maybe a half-dozen other options) but quickly went back to Ivory. Laying that sample across the seat and looking at it in different lights and angles is important, so I did just that. Out came the smartphone for its flashlight, and the color still looked disturbingly close to the 50-year-old material on my seats.

I pulled the trigger, telling Galvez to order this for both my car seat and a stool that needed reupholstering from my parent’s house. Two birds taken down with one ivory-hued stone.

Galvez runs a one-man shop, and my projects would be second in line, after a pair of leather seats from a 10th generation Ford F-150 Lariat. I was informed that my seats would be done next week, but I told him there was no rush, as I know he is still recovering from surgery and has very little help. I was in no hurry, and I just wanted it done right.

He called a few days later, telling me the seats were still being worked on but I could pick up the stool for my parents. I collected it, but was really hoping I’d get a look at the Montego’s seats in a disassembled state. I got just that, as Galvez was in the process of re-stitching the new vinyl into the seat cover. He replicated every shape and every stitch to factory specifications. The new material matched perfectly, and I was instantly filled with joy.

I couldn’t wait to install them in the Montego, but I knew not to rush the process. Apparently the seat foam wasn’t the main source of pain for my backside, as Galvez had to reassemble the metal seat springs that were either improperly installed at the factory or fell apart over time. All this work, including reupholstering that stool, set me back a mere $325. (Don’t worry, I gave him a significant tip to show my appreciation.)

Galvez helped me load the seats into my truck, which was a good sign that he was healing from his surgery. I must have been running mostly on adrenaline at this point, as I only remember a few moments of brute force and agile machinations to get the seats from the upholstery shop to the yellow-hued cabin of my Montego. Each seat sailed past the Montego’s tight threshold without scratching door sills, the dashboard, or the B-pillar trim.

With the job done, I was overcome with a sense of pure, unadulterated joy that I haven’t felt in years. Perhaps decades? While words sometimes cannot convey feelings, perhaps these photos get you closer to the reality.

Even photos don’t do it justice, as you have to sit in these seats to believe them. They are squishy yet supportive, with supple velour and soft vinyl. Fresh foam and vintage fabrics are a pairing that makes this Montego more comfortable than darn near any new car available on the market today.

I never asked how much he’d charge only for the seats (not including that stool), but I did want to get him on the record with a brief interview. That wasn’t in the cards, because as mentioned he is leery of drawing attention at the end of a 50-plus-year career in automotive upholstery. Sometime next year his upholstery shop will cease to exist, but Galvez is looking forward to retirement.

When that happens, the decades of knowledge he’s accumulated will be lost. Galvez did say he had been looking to bring an apprentice into his business, to teach the things he’s learned over the years. He cut his teeth on interiors from the 1930-40s, back when those cars were the hottest antiques of the 1970s. It’s a shame he never found that apprentice.

The future has yet to unfold for Galvez’s upholstery shop, but all signs point to an inauspiciously forgettable ending. The local news won’t cover this business closure, though ironically they covered an accident happening at the aforementioned townhomes across the street. I assume the heightened land value of the little office park ensures it will become more of that type of housing in the near future. But Galvez made his mark on me, and I will not forget his business, his decades honing his crafts, and his kindness.

This is a tale with an actionable moral: Seek out your local upholstery shops, and ask them if they can both repair and reproduce interiors to your satisfaction. I don’t believe everyone can restore an interior to a factory condition with detailed methodology like I’ve seen with Galvez. So if you find that person, please support them to the best of your ability. They don’t make ’em like that much anymore.