Fourteen years it’s been haunting me: the loss of Casanova’s pants.
I don’t know how many times I’ve thought about it: Casanova being forced to give away his brand new pair of $1,070 trousers on Project Runway to be completely destroyed by another designer.
It happened on the very first episode of Season 8. And I’ve replayed this loss of a stranger’s pants over and over in the many years since in my head.
Somehow I know my obsession with Casanova’s pants is evidence of my hoarder mentality, and probably ASD too (is hoarding comorbid with autism in general anyway?). There has to be a reason the memory of Casanova being stripped of his beautiful expensive pants haunts me so persistently and so much more often than millions of other memorable TV show moments.
Part of it is the injustice: to invest in purchasing and putting together your wardrobe for a TV competition where your style and personal presentation are integral to your confidence and chances for success, and on the very first day, without warning, they are stolen from you as part of the game. And to someone for whom communication is already hampered by English not being his first language: to have a carefully chosen basic staple tool in your toolbox ripped from you is like being very unfairly handicapped. I think it is an example of how stacked the deck is against certain people in contests and in life. It really bothers me, especially when it seems possible to structure contests to eliminate these kinds of unjust factors. It’s not necessary, and does not add anything except TORTURE.
I try to reassure myself that they probably disclosed such losses may occur, and/or that they would have compensated the contestants for these things, but how do you adequately compensate anyone for destroying a favorite garment that fits them? These things are rarely replaceable.
This all brings back memories of the devastating loss of my favorite white dress as a teenager with not much money.
I guess I am constantly living in fear that my clothes could be ripped from me at any moment without even seeing it coming and I should always be on guard to defend myself and my things against these sudden snatches.
The way you don’t even get to say NO.
What it’s like having a little sister.
What it’s like being poor.
What it’s like thinking you’re ugly, but that with careful, meticulously-thought-out choices and presentation you can be interesting or artful-looking, if not actually beautiful.
What it’s like when your mom packs up and or gives away your clothes without your consent or involvement.
What it’s like when you have a hard time feeling comfortable in clothes or fitting them at all, and on top of that not being able to afford them. What it’s like to be made sick by shopping with all of the overwhelming stimuli and unobtaiability and too-many-decisions.
What it’s like to invest so much in being prepared for something and allowing yourself a little bit of hope or sense of security in one little area and having the whole rug pulled out from under you, leaving the whole foundation wobbly.
I guess this is a lot to unpack.
Unpack: something Casanova did not even get to do before they took his goddamned Dolce and Gabanna pants.
For some reason it bothers me more that Casanova’s look in that first episode is so striking and put-together. I guess because I highly value his whole look, style, and presentation I necessarily value any ingredient in his arsenal for creating and maintaining that complex personal asset and daily composition. It is extremely upsetting to see someone’s artful personal creation and quality presentation so randomly compromised and reduced.
I’m not sure if Casanova’s poor performance on the actual design and execution of his model’s garment factors into my strong emotions regarding the loss of his pants, but I don’t think it does. I had no recollection of that until we rewatched the episode today.