• April 20, 1992
• Vol. 37
• No. 15

Leisure Seizure

Some Fashion Statements Simply Cannot Be Silenced

IN THE HISTORY OF FASHION, THE LEISURE suit of the '70s is best remembered as a kind of cold compress applied to the fevered brow of the '60s before the '80s pummeled the world into pin-striped submission. Combining the look of a safari jacket with the fit of pajamas, the leisure suit was a paean to polyester. Though popular, it was nonetheless treated as a national joke—something along the lines of Barney Fife's notion of formal wear—before it vanished. "Like the dinosaur," says Van Harden, 39, a talk show host at AM station WHO in Des Moines. "But I loved them. They were functional, you didn't need a tie, and food slid right off."

Luckily (or not), polyester is forever. On March 28, Harden and Connie Murad, 31, his on-air partner, hosted their Fourth Annual International Leisure Suit Convention at the Val Air Ballroom in Des Moines. What began with 175 retro-dressers in 1988, this time drew 1,500 Mid-westerners. They were defiantly tacky and danced in polka dots and sunburst yellows to the Bee Gees and other mastodons of mellowness. Those in the fashion competition even vamped up and down a runway lighted by lava lamps.

Not surprisingly, area thrift stores saw a run on the suits before the convention. Merle G. Trickey, 87, a retired schoolteacher, had to go only as far as his closet, where he keeps 10 of them. Trickey chose a manure-colored number. "Are they out of style?" he asked. "I didn't know that."

Kristin Machacek, 23, and Tim Leary, 27, who drove 200 miles to attend, hope the revival will be stayin' alive, stayin' alive. "It's so stupid," said Machacek enthusiastically, "we'd like to organize one in Minneapolis."