I’m happy to report that suiting is back in a big way (Hello, Saint Laurent!), and now sporting a collection of suits (God, is there anything nerdier than a collection?) I’m here to give my tips; the busty girl’s guide to not busting out. Do not try to be subtle. Do not try to be French (the things American women have done in the name of French style are some of the worst decisions in our sartorial history). Angles, people, angles! I want a tiny cinched waist or a big ol’ shoulder pad. I want a bow tie, massive hair, and drama! Go to the tailor, go to the haberdasher (but do not buy anything, that bowler hat is not your friend). Belts are good; suspenders are terrible. Oversized is great; if you’re going oversized, go big or go home. A suit is an excellent investment because you don’t have to wear both parts together. Have fun. Wear the pants with a humble cardigan and ballet flats, and then the jacket with shorts and boots another night. Finally, if Kim Kardashian can do it (on the cover of GQ no less), you can too.
When done well, suiting is powerful. When done poorly, it’s still, unfortunately, powerful. Suiting is the rare conduit between how you want to be seen, and how you are seen. It is a uniform and, like all uniforms, it has a specific purpose: to make the wearer sexy and strong. My father, of course, was right. I still own the Etro suit, and I break it out at least once a month, which is about as much air time as you can get in my closet. I’ll own it forever.
