ONESIE WONDERS
Adele Varcoe was cleaning out her wardrobe eight years ago when she stumbled upon a hot pink, full-body Lycra leotard. It was a prototype the fashion designer and performance artist had made while studying swimwear. But on this particular day she decided it deserved an outing.
“I found this leotard and I thought ‘this is so out there, imagine wearing this’,’’ she says. “So I put it on.’’
She admits she “felt quite self-conscious at first” and initially wore a long cardigan over the top. But when the university lecturer walked into her classroom in the bold outfit, which was a far cry from the usual jeans and T-shirt combos she favoured, she found the reaction of her students intriguing.
“It’s pretty fascinating that what we wear can bring about conversations and different kinds of reactions,” the 38-year-old says. “I was feeling brave after that class and went out into the streets. Lots of people were coming over, asking questions … it was a very different day. I’ve always been interested in why we wear what we do and who we dress for and [wearing an outthere onesie] enabled me to practise that.’’
Soon after the Melbourne artist went to London for a yearlong residency and packed only onesies in her suitcase. She made five, in bright colours, based on the original pattern and wore them every day. She has worn only onesies for the past eight years. Of 200 in her wardrobe, 30 are on high rotation. The only break she took from wearing onesies was four years ago when she agreed to swap wardrobes with a man and wear his jeans and T-shirts every day for a year. “I thought that was my escape from onesies. But I realised I missed the onesies. I think I missed the conversations I had when I was in them,” Varcoe says.
So she started wearing them again and hasn’t looked back. Many people ask whether she’s got super powers — “Are you a Power Ranger? Which superhero are you?” — and some are critical, although comments are overwhelmingly positive.
Varcoe owns onesies for all occasions, including shortsleeved versions for summer, a shimmery lilac onesie for weddings, sequin party jumpsuits, a leopard print onesie for yoga and a black jumpsuit for formal occasions. When Varcoe attended Mona Foma last year, she encouraged visitors to dress in pink onesies for a day. This year she returns to the Launceston event for Onesie World 2.0, a partnership with Finnish clothing label Self-Assembly in which festivalgoers can make their own onesie without a sewing machine.
Varcoe says there will be “no velcro, no buttons, no staples and no stickytape”. Instead participants can thread together laser-cut fabric pieces using a tab system, a bit like “Ikea for clothes”. It will take people about half an hour to assemble their loose-fitting nylon onesie and “if they’re feeling daring they can also add pockets and decorative items”.
Varcoe expects 2000 onesies will be made by the end of this weekend. She says she’s been tempted to ditch her onesies in favour of a pretty dress or casual jeans for an incognito trip to the supermarket, but she plans to keep wearing them for a while yet — even if it takes a few extra minutes to go to the toilet.
Onesie World 2.0 runs today and tomorrow as part of Mona Foma in Launceston. Festival day passes are $45 for adults or $40 concession. Register your interest at mofo.net.au/ program/adele-varcoe