Cannes: My new black suit

“Zac, it’s Jeremiah.” The phone rang late last Sunday night. It was the producer of the Candy Darling documentary that I’m editing. He usually calls me with bad news or when there’s a problem and most of our conversations center around what’s going on in the editing room.

“Hey Jeremiah, how’s it going?” I say, mustering all of my energy into a cheery, confident voice.

“I hear you’re going to Cannes,” he says flatly.

“Yeah, a movie that I worked on last summer is premiering there,” I answer, and pause, curious as to where this conversation is going and whether I’m in trouble for taking a week off of work.

“Is this the one that takes place in the boarding school?”

“Yeah. It’s called Afterschool.” Pause.

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I’m definitely excited.” Pause.

“You know, I’ve been to Cannes before,” Jeremiah says, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t know that,” I say.

“Yeah, you’re going to have a blast.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“You need to wear a nice black suit. You want to look sharp.”

Another pause.

“Everyone will treat you better if you look good. I went once when I was in my mid-20s and I had a Ralph Lauren jacket, and I looked great and wherever I went, everyone treated me like a movie star. But when I took the jacket off, people were nasty to me.”

I laugh, reminded how funny he can be sometimes.

“I need to buy a new suit.”

“Yes, you do,” he snaps.

I laugh again. “I was planning on …”

“I’m serious, Zac,” he cuts me off and says flatly, “and take a lot of pictures because you are going to enjoy looking at them when you get old and gain weight. I love looking at my young thin self.”

“Okay.” I say.

“And black shoes.”

“Okay.”

“And black socks.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good time.”

“Thanks.”

“Pictures.”

“Right.”

I thanked him for calling. It was a strange but touching phone conversation.

The last suit I bought was at Arts for Him on Main Street in Honesdale, PA, two days before my big screen acting premiere at the Narrowsburg International Independent Film Festival. The premiere turned out to be a bust (one point for hearing the story on “This American Life;” 10 points for being there) and my brand-new suit became my unlucky new suit. I’ve worn it maybe five times, ever. It hangs in my old bedroom closet upstate, amid the Hawaiian shirts and funky sports coats that are way too big for me.

Needless to say, it was definitely time for a new one.

I left work early today to look for a new suit at Century 21. I was nervous. I didn’t know if I’d find anything that I’d like. I couldn’t find anyone to go with me and I didn’t know if I’d have enough time to get it tailored if I needed to.

But, it went surprisingly well. With the help of a young snazzily dressed sales clerk, I found a decently priced Hugo Boss black suit, with two buttons and a slight pin-striped pattern. He was right: the 36 short fit much better than the 36 regular. The pants need to be hemmed.

“Does it look sharp?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I’d say you look sharp.”

“Okay, I’ll take it. Where can I find some black socks?”

I leave this Friday. Hopefully, the suit will look as good in the pictures.

- Zachary Stuart-Pontier