The jumpsuit is sexy, I suppose, precisely because it’s not supposed to be. You’re a chick in a flight suit, albeit one made of silk. It’s slightly androgynous and demands confidence to wear it, but there is the allure. I have three I really like, but I envision them for different girls. Let’s call them Polly, Calliope and Elodie:
Polly strides into the club, long blond hair falling loosely down her back, bangles jangling, smoky eye very, very smoky. She’s at least 6 ft tall in her platform heels, which are hidden beneath the extremely long inseam of her white Halston Heritage jumpsuit. Stopping to check her Blackberry, she thinks, for a moment, of the great Bianca Jagger riding into Studio 54 atop a white horse for her 30th birthday party. If that were her, she would have found a better looking naked man to lead her horse. She smiles to herself. It’s thirty-three years later and her favorite MGMT song is playing. The Boom Boom Room, (it’s not called that anymore, she thinks) is packed. She sees her girlfriends at a table, clinking champagne glasses, and waves to them, admiring her tan in the process and making a mental note to book that flight to St. Barth’s. A shame she has to fly commercial, but c’est la vie.
Art Basel Miami Beach again, but this year was different because Calliope was representing her own gallery. She looked out the window of the Viceroy and grimaced: it was raining again. So much for beach parties. She had packed lightly, bringing only her essentials: Helmut Lang jeans, Jil Sander jacket, Yigal dress, Eres bikini and her new blue jumpsuit. The jumpsuit she would wear to the opening, she reasoned. She would be strong and chic. And if he came. No, if he had the gall to show up to her party, her show, she would- she pauses. She fastens a belt, steps into her Alaia’s and winks in the mirror. Well, she would be very, very nice.
She was born in Paris and now lived in Copenhagen, and the first thing Elodie would tell you was that she passionately loved the color red but only wore versions of cream and beige and camel. It suited her, and she only liked to wear what suited her. She believe that what she loved and what she wore must exist separately,and her life was softly ordered that way. Her sheets were white and she liked calla lillies. She drank Lillet on the rocks in the summertime, and Lillet Rouge in the winter. Her favorite food were oysters, she could easily eat 2 dozen in a sitting, with a nice glass of gruner veltliner. The one funny part of her life, the part that made her giggle, was her deep belief in astrology. Her sign was Aquarius, which is why she was always slightly surprised to wake up everyday next to a Taurus man. They were bulls. She hated bulls. But she loved him. She loved him more than the color red. She was a dreamy bird, and her Taurus man kept her on the ground.
Live this life:
Buy the jumpsuit:
Go to New York:
Experience Art Basel Miami Beach:
Drink Something Delightful: