Sometimes, What We Wear Really Does Define Us

My first leather jacket was honey-caramel colored and had a luxurious soft "hand" - that buttery soft feeling you get when you brush against fine leather. It was a shaped, double-breasted cut, reached to mid-thigh, had a trim buckled belt and two rows of polished gold dome buttons. With a turned back lapel, it had enough of a collar that you could wear it high at the back of the neck.

I was a young, 20-something fashionista working my first real job in New York's fashion industry when I paid more than a week's salary for it at Bloomingdale's, back during the years when the store name still had that apostrophe and the logo appeared as a broad tip, hand-written script running vertically along the edge of their signature yellow shopping bag.

I wore that jacket for years and felt like a million bucks in it.  It was one of those items I just couldn't throw into a donation box when the time came to give it up.  Long after I had grown out of tiny single digit sizes, with no hope of getting back into that size 4, I phoned a decision-maker in the wardrobe department for the Contra Costa Musical Theatre in Walnut Creek and convinced her that I had some "gems" that just shouldn't go into a rag box.

I made an appointment and took my mother's 1938 greige wool crepe honeymoon coat with a moleskin collar, her navy 1954 Dior-inspired, "New Look" evening coat with rhinestone buttons, and a few cherished items of my own that were top drawer in the 1960's, some of which had even been featured in the editorial pages of SEVENTEEN Magazine. The wardrobe lady was kind but reluctant, assuring me that they did not really need anything, but in the end she took my precious jacket and mother's things and added them to her neat racks of costumes and stage clothes.

I sensed that my items would never see the light of day or the new Lesher Theatre stage, but I left feeling good that they had some authentic oldies in their collection.   I began attending their inaugural season in 1990 and steeled myself to seeing my mother's old griege coat slashed and torn into rags, perhaps on a street urchin in a performance of Les Mis, but in all those years I never spotted any of my cherished old pieces on stage. 

Thursday morning, I snagged a last minute ticket to see that evening's performance of RENT, a very special production during this 20th Anniversary Season at the Lesher Center. It is a show I have wanted to see since it first hit Broadway in the mid-90's and I was captivated by the music, and the characters, and then by a fleeting glimpse of my cherished leather jacket right there on the Lesher stage - and in a starring role!

Actress Meghann Reynolds, terrific in the role of Maureen, the "hottie" of the show, spent much of her performance wearing my old leather jacket.  I just could not resist hanging out at the stage door to commend her performance and tell her about its history.  Her eyes lit up when I said, "I bought that jacket at Bloomingdale's in 1968 and donated it to wardrobe about fifteen years ago."

"And, it's a great jacket!" she said, as I stood there savoring the flush I felt seeing it worn well, again.

Contra Costa Musical Theatre's production of Rent continues with performances at the Lesher Center for the Arts through September 4th. Order tickets through the Center Box Office at 925-943-SHOW (7469) or www.lesherartscenter.org and watch for my jacket.

Editor's Note: Lana Henderson, a resident of Lamorinda since 1983, has been writing since she was Editor of her mid-western high school newspaper. Early in her career, she was an Editor in the Fashion Office at SEVENTEEN Magazine, New York. She brings her enthusiasm, an extensive business background, and her love of a good story to her work as a contributor to LamorindaPatch.