Starring:

The Green Suit got all sorts of attention at the consignment shop. Visitors threw curious glances, admiring its white anchor buttons, petted the over-sized lapels. A mint, 1970s jumpsuit was a rare find, indeed; yet, no one dared to take it home, or even to the fitting room. Once in a while a daring fashionista would size it up against her body, cringe at the wide legs and hang it back on the rack. After a while, the Green Suit got pushed back into the corner and out of sight. Weeks passed, maybe months. And then she came – red hair, brisk walk. With a quiet “uh huh!”, she grabbed the Green Suit and marched straight to the register, unmindful of the is-she-really-going-to-pay-cash-for-that? glances. She paid credit.

What do you do with a grasshopper-green polyester jumpsuit in the middle of May anyway? Shorten it and wear it like some sort of a 70s artifact? The suit was issued a spot on a rack in an overstuffed closet and promised to be worn one day, ‘when the time is right’. Every time her eyes slipped in its direction, the Green Suit sprung up, proudly bulging its chest pockets – only to watch her pick something else, usually the pink Tutu. It was always the Tutu. Layers of pink taffeta rustled tantalizingly every time it got pulled off the rack, the sound that haunted the Green Suit at night.

Nights like these, the Green Suit longed for a life of adventure more than ever. When the rest of the wardrobe was fast asleep, it dreamed of being worn with panache. It pictured itself dancing the night away with a pair of pointy boots, gently brushing against their glossy, white leather. It dreamed about sitting at a bar sipping a Mango Martini, flirting with a beautiful silver scarf with tassels.

There were times when the Green Suit almost got worn. It almost made it out to a movie with friends, but got dropped in favor of a light-as-air silk dress. It almost made a big entrance at a costume party. It almost tripped the light fantastic at a disco with the drag queens in Williamsburg. After many, many almosts, the Green Suit lost all hope and just hung silently in the back of the closet, tucked away between a coat and, occasionally, the Tutu.

News of a Japan Exhibit spread throughout the closet lightning-fast, leaving everyone jittery with anticipation. Who was it going to be this time? The poofy polka-dot dress? Was the front-button velvet jacket going to see the wonders of Japanese packaging? The hand hovered over the rack, caressing the hangers. It lingered over the pink Tutu momentarily, which immediately ruffled its lace like some sort of a self-important swan. And then, just like that, the hand pulled out the Green Suit in one fast, resolute motion.

* * *

She wore it proudly, with panache. Yellow scarf, matching eyeshadow, splashy overcoat. The Green Suit was happy at last.

“The Adventures of the Green Suit” wardrobe:

  • Green Suit: vintage find
  • Pink Tutu: handmade out of a vintage dress
  • Overcoat: Isaac Mizrahi for Target
  • Yellow Canvas Booties: Nine West (close-ups & review here)
  • Scarf: Anne Klein
  • Belt: vintage
  • Eyeshadow: ‘Circus Girl’ by Lime Crime – my makeup line, coming soon!

Deerlings: do you have an article of clothing you have a special relationship with?