From EIC, Laura Kosann
At the end of the summer I bought my first pair of overalls. It was an out-of-character choice on my part, but the salesman at Zara said they were absolutely fabulous and due to the fact that I do 99.8% of my shopping online, I think the enthusiasm of a real-life salesperson had me reeling with unfounded self-confidence.
So no, it wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, but once I gave in by giving My Overalls a chance, there was no turning back. I couldn’t believe how much My Overalls understood me…let alone my wardrobe. Racer back tanks, pinstriped button downs, textured white tees, there was nothing about me or my wardrobe that they were incompatible with. I felt I could express my true self to My Overalls, and after only a few short weeks, I introduced them to my friends and family.
I couldn’t believe all the compliments I got: The most rewarding feeling was when my loved ones told me how perfect My Overalls were for me. They had never seen me this happy.
The first time I had My Overalls dry cleaned I held them in front of the man at the front desk with the kind of protectiveness a girl saves for her engagement ring. I explained to him how delicate these overalls were – they weren’t like any other overalls he’d seen in his thirty years of dry cleaning. Money was no object; I’d pay whatever price it took to ensure My Overalls’ health and longevity, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.
Even my actual Real Life Boyfriend loved My Overalls. In fact, he preferred them to a lace baby doll number I’d planned to wear on a Saturday night out.
It was then that things began to get out of hand.
Once I believed I looked sexy in My Overalls, I couldn’t think of one valid reason to ever change out of them. I mean put yourself in my shoes: Could you think of one?
I’d wake up in the morning and find I was actually putting My Overalls on before even making coffee. I’d throw them on with a t-shirt, brush my teeth, wash my face, walk Scout, change from a t-shirt to a button down, go to the office, change from a button down to a racer back ribbed mock neck and earrings, meet my Real Life Boyfriend for dinner, come home, change back into a t-shirt with My Overalls and watch television. Right before bed, I’d drape them over my bedside table, say goodnight, and do the same thing over again the next day.
Suddenly when my weekday doorman made a comment like, “You like those overalls, huh?” I started to come to the realization that – no matter how much I tried to deny it – My Overalls and I were in a rut.
We never had any laughs anymore, and our adventures together had become less and less exciting. It had all become so…routine.
I can’t say we didn’t try. One Friday night, I tried pairing them with a more silky blouse, which I hadn’t done before, but it just seemed so forced.
This isn’t us, I thought to myself, as we took one of our last walks together in Central Park. It was then that I realized: We weren’t Us anymore; we had become something else. What is was, I had no idea.
Everything happens for a reason, and I can’t say I’ll never fall back into something with My Overalls: I’m human after all. But with fall in full swing, I realized it was no season to settle. I owe myself more than that.