The Co-existence of Fashion and Law

Patricia Elam by Marvin Joesph for the Washington Post

When I first encountered her she was the swishing sound effect as she rushed in and out of the tiny office space. She was all but a blur when I got a glimpse of her. Instantly she fascinated me. I saw a flash of electric blue mixed in with some gray. I saw a tease of lace at the end of her leggings. The swish was more than her petite frame whipping around in the air contained in such a cramped quarters. There was crinoline hidden in her dress.  For those brief seconds she flew pass me, I flashed back to the 1980s. I was kid dancing in my room with the radio turned up and I was dressed up in a mash up of loud colors, huge polka dots, sequins, a wig made of shiny strips that was reminiscent of  Joanne McDuffie – of the Mary Jane Girls – braided hairstyle; bangs and shoulder length mock hair.

Every Tuesday and Thursday when I entered the office for my creative writing class with poet, writer Tony Medina, I encountered my 80s flashback in the form of Patricia Elam. She shared the office with Medina and when my class of about eight students (including myself) would take our place at the round table that sat off to a corner, Elam would quietly excuse herself, whizzing pass us as she was on her way to teach her creative writing class. For those two days out of the week of that fall semester I would perk up when I saw her hair in bantu knots, then a flash of color somewhere in her dress in the hues of reds, pinks, silvers and of course blues. There was also the “click, clack” sound of her low ankle boots. In my mind I could hear Pet Shop Boys’ “West End Girls,” Cyndi Lauper’s “She Bop,” or Grace Jones’ “Pull Up To My Bumper.”

Eccentric is what immediately came to mind every time she crossed my path. I love eccentric. I’m drawn to the creative presence of another being no matter the tone. It’s encounters like these that make the hardships at Howard University bearable. I tell potential students all the time, the academic and social life at Howard is wonderfully enriching. The wealth of knowledge alone on campus is enough to make anyone want to prolong their stay, but as time moves on, so must we, and I had long over stayed my time by then. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to indulge in any of Elam’s offerings of knowledge. I heard she was tough, but was good. Actually beyond good. Her students constantly praised her, while scoffing at her often tough tiddy stance on classwork.

Eventually I did  get a chance to learn something else about her.

One of those Tuesdays and Thursdays, she lingered in the office just as our class was underway. I don’t remember what the conversation was originally about, but I remember Elam sharing that she was also teaching at the Duke Ellington School of the Arts. She had been a practicing lawyer for several years before she decided to quit and switch to teaching and writing. She made a statement that was a bold affirmation. She refused to conform. She wasn’t truly happy being a lawyer and at the time it wasn’t bringing any type of fulfillment. I figured right then we had some type of connection. We’re both creative beings that worked conservative type jobs; she a lawyer, me in the federal government. Then we dropped our jobs to pursue perhaps what is our calling.

I wouldn’t be able to formally introduce to myself to Elam until the next semester. I was barely on campus as I only had only had one course and was interning with the Washington City Paper at the time. Graduation was around the corner, but I had to say something to Elam once I had the chance. I did have my chance at a fashion show. We were seated in the media area when I introduced myself. If I remember correctly, she was dressed very low key that night and not in her usual Cyndi Lauper-esque style of dress.  Just a pair of slacks, a blouse and maybe a sweater over the blouse? My memory is a bit fuzzy. We talked briefly about Howard, even encouraging a high schooler covering the show for her school’s paper to attend the university. Elam and I also talked about a past article the City Paper did on her daughter some years ago. Then of course we talked about fashion!

For those brief moments we shared a space engulfed in fashion it was refreshing. That was the last time I was in the same space as Elam.

>

The Terrells I’ve known for much of my adult life now. For those in D.C. keeping track, they hail from Ward 7.  I was introduced to them during my stint with The Common Denominator. My mother, a retired educator, had worked with James Terrell in the D.C. Public School system.  She was old friends with the Terrells and remembered that Terrell’s wife, (ret.) Judge Mary Terrell, had not long started a non-profit.  She put me in contact with Judge Terrell and there was a connection. I fell in love with her grace, her poise and her selflessness towards other females, in particular the adolescent female facing perhaps her first pivotal point in life; that threshold where you leave all childish behavior behind, take a big gulp and navigate your way into adulthood holding on to your faith and with the help of people like Judge Terrell encouraging you.  I was in awe of this so much so that I wrote about her and her organization for The Common Denominator.  Afterwards, I joined the organization only to sadly never fully take on an active role. For a long while I felt guilty about it. It’s not that I didn’t try, but I allowed my own life (and fears) get in the way. I was a mess.

Mariessa Terrell by Marvin Joesph for the Washington Post

Standing right next to her, helping their mom, were the Terrell’s children, a son and two daughters.  Though all her children have contributed to the cause in various ways, it has been Mariessa that has stood out the most for me. She would be my second connection within the Terrell family.  Before Elam was even brought into my view, my first encounter with Mariessa was somewhat of the same as Elam’s; she was anything but a blur. Like Elam, Mariessa always appeared before me with a splash of color. Hues of purples, turquoise, and pinks against black is what comes to mind based from my first appearance of her. Honestly, I don’t recall the exact moment, but I remember it was during a tea event in a church basement. You can best believe, if anything there is to remember about that moment are that hats adorned both of the Terrells’ heads as well as gloves gracing their hands. Sure, it’s a tea etiquette thing, but for the mother and daughter team it can also be a style statement as well.

I briefly mention Mariessa, her background and her connection to her mom’s organization and the fashion industry in my last post.  Unlike Elam, Mariessa didn’t go for the sophisticated 80s racy rock and roll, punk look. Before I knew anything about Mariessa being a lawyer, I noticed that she stuck with suits and added the whimsical flare of a flower, bold splash of color from a blouse or shoes and accessories (as simple as strands of pearls) to break up the monotony of the suit. If I caught her at a fashion show or at a formal event, her dresses were always a nod to the Hollywood glam of the 50s and perhaps 60s. Red lipstick is her thing and she serves it with that ooze of a warm and cheerful “Hello Darling!” that spills from those red lips.

Yesterday it was no do different. I haven’t seen any of the Terrells in quite some time. Though not flashy, they were a gracious sight to behold in the middle of a community political event.  Both mother and daughter dressed in black. I spotted Judge Terrell first and nearly jumped out my seat to give her a hug. I missed her. Later on I saw Mariessa floating around the room, we hugged as well, talk a bit about my latest venture(s) in journalism but only after she showed me a marvelous sight; a copy of the Washington Post Magazine.

She opened to an editorial feature that spoke about her, her mother and their creative fashion sense of style in the world of law and justice. I smiled and squealed (yes squealed) with excitement as Mariessa showed me the editorial spread. Then she uttered a name that brought a bigger smile to my face.

“Do you know Patricia Elam? She wrote this article on us!,” says Mariessa.

It makes sense. It makes PERFECT sense. The creative collective always finds a way to commune together. It makes sense.

Late yesterday evening, or rather early this morning, I crept online and read the article. It’s nothing that I really didn’t know before, except actual details of Elam’s experience with trying to mix her creative sense as a lawyer. It was painful to read that for her it was like mixing oil and water….. it wasn’t mixing.

I’ve never read anything that Elam has written until last night. Her article Jurist prudence: Can women be fashionable dressers and lawyers?  illustrates the fact that in a still very male driven and dominated field, women have managed to find a niche mixing law with fashion; literally into their wardrobe as well as in the middle of litigation.  It’s a damn good read! And who knew that fashion – from the ready to wear franchise chain, to the high end designer – needs some kind of specialty law to protect its design and business!

So please dear reader, take a moment and immerse yourself in a good read about fashion, the law and the co-mingling of the two.

I present -> Jurist prudence: Can women be fashionable dressers and lawyers? by Tricia Elam. 

Tagged: journalism, Judge Mary Terrell, Mariessa Terrell White, Patricia Elam, Washington DC, Washington Post

Posted in: Uncategorized