Every week a different FADER staff member will pick a clothing item or accessory that he or she has lately been spending a lot of time with—or would like to—and write a little love letter to it. We would’ve done a column on who we’re dating but that seemed a little bit much. This week Alison Awoyera writes about a Motel Rocks bodice.
A winter wardrobe usually dictates two things, a yin and yang: dark, drab colors on one side and over-sized layers on the other. I resist both. Years of wearing a black uniform to school with a matching, huge blazer (my mother insisted I would grow into it) has made me rebel against anything that remotely reminds me of school. The oversized stuff made me look even skinnier, taller and just plain more awkward than I needed at that time. And head-to-toe black outfits always looked a lot better on my peers.
I grew accustomed to squeezing in a splash of color, despite the season of year. It started with a coat of hot-pink nail polish or more recently, insisting my pixie haircut be dyed red—the brighter, the better. Pre-Rihanna.
Secretly I admire those burly London businessmen who carry massive rainbow umbrellas. I imagine they feel just as most kids do in school uniform—desperate to reflect their personality. They are usually the same type of men who wear socks displaying what day of week it is and horrendous character ties. Really, it's probably just a desperate effort to go against the masculinity of their box-shaped suits. Quite endearing, really.
Perhaps this obsession with color explains my love for the cosmic bodice by Motel Rocks. Doesn't it remind you of star-gazing, or even better, one of those psychic stores dotted around the East Village? It's a leotard, clips in at the bottom, pointing a gracious nod to the gymnast trend of the Eighties. Thankfully this also serves a very practical purpose: tucking in your gut and removing any unsightly fabric bulges when teamed with high-waisted jeans. The high neckline allows you to move gracefully, without fear of showing more than you've bargained for. Most importantly, my bodysuit rebelliously ticks all of my winter-wardobe boxes. It's bright, fitted, and indeed, the total opposite of that dreaded school uniform.