suddenly suiting myself

consider this: an "old boy" concept yields a new girl freedom

I have bad associations with suits. They first became a thing in law school at interview time but somehow I navigated around them. Mostly with a Ralph Lauren dress bought used that looked like a pinstriped men’s waist coat. Why would I spend money on a suit when I was still in school, ordering greyhounds in patched Levi’s and men’s oxfords with tanks under them, little crewneck sweaters and RL blanket skirts? 

As a summer associate in a big law firm I continued the sleight of hand. My step-grandmother bought me a bottle green suit from Ann Taylor. I had a black pencil skirt. And then I had two Krizia blazers handed down from my mom: purple and black. I just manipulated the pieces in various formations all summer; the jacket was usually on the back of the chair anyway, signaling to partners that I was there no matter what the hour, like a blistered hot dog on the warmer in the 7/11.

Leaving the law behind felt like freedom, dress code included.  I don’t much remember what I wore to work in a PR firm for eight years that were personally tumultuous. I know there was an Hermès scarf involved at some point. Acceptable enough to do business in Boston.

Entering dot com world as a single mother and one of the oldest people in the place meant new options. Yet I still seemed to default to a uniform of wrap dresses and boots at Rue La La. That’s one thing about the suit: it’s easy. With rules no longer in place I still craved their simplicity and imposed my own. 

A year at a big ad agency is hardly worth mentioning. The layers of red tape. The late nights not for a case but for nothing — to watch bros “spitball”? I can’t help but think the law firm suits would have made the work better. At least they created a suggestion of “let’s not fuck around.” This felt, aside from a couple amazing women, like a lot of fucking around. 

At the time I took it, Creative Director at M.Gemi was my biggest creative role to date. Managing people and work at at a higher level than I had before. I found myself leaning on big shouldered blazers to supply some of the confidence I didn’t yet feel following a long tenure under a toxic boss. 

Later, when I started my own business, Honor Code, to do things differently, I knew that toxic leaders strangled creative. I knew I could get better results with trust and humanity than with ego and games. 

If you value awards (we’ve never entered one) or agency-of-record positions (we largely avoid them) we’re not a big success, but I quickly built out the business to outpace my last salary without working for anyone else. And brought on a partner who also outpaced hers. That was year 1.

Over time the business has developed on doing the right things, finding and telling resonant emotional stories. We care more about clients, make more money and have more freedom. It means access to better clothes, more options to explore, delight and express.

And from this comfortable position, I bought … a suit. A fairly traditional one, too. Medium gray tropical wool (I wanted it to be four-season wearable). I liked the idea that I’d have an answer on days when I felt rushed but still had to present at a meeting, or where I wanted to look serious and unassailable - like networking events or funerals. But maybe the biggest game changer was how fun it was to dress down. 

It started when I wore it to a meeting to present shoe names at Converse, with my white CDC Cons and a tee I bought at their company store. I felt so fresh and fun and confident. It unlocked something. I started experimenting, breaking the suit up, and wearing with knits instead of a shirt, mixing in all sorts of ways. 

When the shorts went on sale (Prada does pieces in some fabrics, including this one, year after year) I picked that up and kept wearing my suit all summer and early fall after hours, sticking a sequin vest under, bare legged with stretch boots. 

The pull on skirt in the same fabric went on sale after that and I grabbed it too. It’s a little breezier than pants and I can wear it all day with a t shirt and brogues and add the jacket when I need to do more. When Prada released a pencil version in their recent mixed media collection, it was different enough that I went for that too. Putting the jacket over my shoulders lowers the heat and formality, and adding it back gets me through a Zoom or intense AC at a panel or a dinner. 

It made me realize that there’s merit to a couple matching pieces that can be dressy or not, worn together or apart. There’s value beyond the sum of the parts. That suit survived many culls in my Boston to Miami move. There’s a certainty in it. 

A couple seasons ago I bought a pleated Miu Miu skirt in a fairly stiff substantial cotton; what I liked most was its swagger and heralding of change with its impossibly low waist. (Moda says “fits exceptionally large; our fit specialist says take 2 sizes down.” I took my usual size, to keep it low, falling off almost.) Sometimes you need a big wardrobe shakeup like that to help you see things differently and cull what you have. It’s like introducing an acid to a dish you’ve made for a long time. It doesn’t just change that dish. It’s an aha that makes you want to give everything a shake or a squeeze. 

I got rid of a lot of stagnating stuff after that. And when Miu Miu did some short sleeve and sleeveless jacket-like pieces in the same cotton, I thought again that the sum is greater than its parts and went in for a sleeveless bomber that turned my skirt into a Miami weather “suit.” The trick is now to wear it not save it. The same goes for the bottle green MM6 “suit” I invested in this season, a pair of wide slouchy pants plus a deconstructed-shoulder vest that first appeared as part of the more expensive Madison Margiela collection. When I wear this it says Miami and it says Creative. But I also want to use it on a Saturday night date with just a fun bra under or on a summer weekend trip to New York with a tank and some sandals. 

I’ve also taken this idea of two piece ease to non “suit” pieces. First a silk For Restless Sleepers set that I love but parted ways with when the move to a hot climate made the long sleeve top and bottom tough (you can now own it; here!) . I enjoyed it most layered in all sorts of ways. With a short sleeve sweatshirt over as a foil for the pussybow, or a big slouchy cardigan on top to go out on a chilly night, or with the bow hanging loose over jeans and under a blazer or crew neck with a pushed-up sleeve. 

I had a pair of Loewe shorts from a collab with the artist Ken Price and years later my hub found the shirt used and got it for me, an unexpected gift. I wasn’t sure if wearing it together would be too much — the pattern is incredibly bold — but I tried it and it felt complete somehow. Either in “too much” form (shirt buttoned all the way up, shoulder pad tee under) or with the top fully open as a kind of jacket or even with the top around the waist so what you get is just texture and casualness. I like all these ways better than when I wore my shorts solo with a black tee. 

Similarly, after years I finally found used the super packable, multi-season Old Celine knit skirt from the resort collection I loved but wouldn’t spring for at retail. I wore it solo with black or white (finally breaking it out of the matchy box only recently with a burgundy shoe), dressing it down with denim. And years later found the top. Which can create a full-on dress effect or add dimension, operating like a scarf or a cape. Forecast permitting, I’d like to take both to Mexico City in September. Maybe even experiment with more stripes in the middle of it all. Matching the pieces allows playing with accessories or moving quickly onto where you want to go for the day, all the while feeling assuredly yourself. Like so many other “after 50” shifts, In these suits that once choked me, today I find freedom. 

If you’re contemplating a suit

• Look for seasonless fabrics that make it a solid investment.

• New or used, buy the best quality you can afford.

• Don’t overindex on bells and whistles … but make sure there’s enough something to give it oomph.

• Get it tailored. And to the extent possible get it done in a way that can be undone if your body changes. 

• Scour consignment stores and eBay and Dora Maar for coordinate pieces to items you own and love; I just picked up a tank at Castanet in Boston that makes a set of my Issey Miyake pants. (Sold here.)

• Don’t be afraid to redesign, e.g. cut off sleeves or shorten pants on a suit you own and aren’t wearing.

• Don’t worry about what department it’s in. If I were buying a suit today? I’d want an unlined customizable linen one from the Ralph Lauren men’s purple label. 

• Take time on a weekend to challenge yourself to pair your suit 10-20 different ways. It’s how you discover great weird color pairings or the magic in adding sneakers, flip flops, a concert tee and who knows what else.