Teaching Old Togs New Tricks

By Michael Demarest

They put limbs in limbo, but jumpsuits are dressier than ever

Amelia Earhart wore them while piloting her plane across the oceans. Rosie the Riveter donned them for her shift at a World War II defense plant. Generations of American children have learned to toddle in them. They have been a trendy, casual, adult costume for the past few years. Now, with acrobatic elan, jumpsuits have leaped from utilitarian to U, from convenient to chic. At pricey department stores and boutiques across the country, dressy jumpsuits are, well, jumping off the racks. They are even in vogue for evening wear. At this month's opening of the San Francisco Opera season, one of the nation's few remaining high-fashion occasions, several soignee ladies appeared in elegant jumps that attracted as much attention as the Yves St. Laurent gowns (one spectacular number was all black velvet, festooned with pearls). Brides have been jumpsuiting their way to the altar. Says San Francisco Manufacturer Doug Thomkins: "Not every woman in town is wearing a jumpsuit. But every woman has one hanging in her closet."

The jumpsuit jamboree is powered by such top designers as Anne Klein, Calvin Klein, Halston, Ralph Lauren and Willi Smith. One of the fastest-selling lines, Reminiscence, is designed by Manhattan's award-winning Stewart Richer, 38, whose sporty suits in cotton and corduroy fetch from $60 to $72. "Boutiques are ordering them like they're $12 T shirts," says Richer. Jump buffs point out that they can be worn to the office with a turtleneck sweater and later accoutered for evening by removing the sweater, unzipping to the cleavage and adding jewelry. Like blue jeans, jumpsuits came to fashion from the wharves and workshops of America--and became modish in Europe. It was after a visit to Paris last spring that Kal Ruttenstein, a Bloomingdale's executive, saw how Parisians were snapping them up. "It's a lot of look at a relatively little price," says Ruttenstein. "It's for the young or young-thinking woman, the fashion or contemporary customer." Adds Manhattan's Norma Kamali, 34, one of the first of the major designers to dive into jumpsuits: "It's the reverse of putting an outfit together. It's not lots of pieces you have to coordinate. When you run out in the morning, you just jump into it."

Gala designer jumpsuits, selling for up to $1,000, bear as little relationship to Rosie's garb as the QE2 to a Liberty ship. They come strapless or backless or off-the-shoulder; camisoled, ruffled and high-necked, or deeply decollete. At stores like I. Magnin's in San Francisco and Chicago and Bloomingdale's in New York, which has eight departments (including one named In Flight) selling jumpsuitery, they come in soft, billowy silks and satins, polished cotton and gabardine, velvet and crepe de Chine in art deco prints. Head-turning hues include purple, burgundy, fuchsia, aubergine, white and that ol' black magic.

Frustrated male leg watchers complain that the jump ensemble puts limbs in limbo. On the other hand--discretion being the better part of glamour-- the suits can be effective camouflage for the not-too-perfect figure. Says one West Coast jumper: "You don't have to be a 110-Ib. size eight to look good." That holds true, evidently, on the ground or in the air. Last week, to kick off a fashion show, Man Oh Man, a Detroit specialty shop, dropped three jumpsuited parachutists into the Detroit River.

--By Michael Demarest

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