The wholly original story of a woman's life told from her wardrobe's point of view, in the wardrobe's own savvy, vibrant voice--a feat of the imagination as emotionally subtle and stirring as it is dazzlingly particular. We first meet B., the wardrobe's owner, as a child in the buttoned-up Midwest of the 1950s, when "a vision of a saddle shoe" comes into her head and she discovers the urgency of all clothing dreams. We follow B. through her awkward, pudgy stage ("Here I must write about the stomach"); the indignity of camp shorts; her "adult figure arriv[ing] suddenly in 1963." The 1960s bring even bigger changes when B. goes off to Harvard, discards her girdle, and discovers... Marimekko! Miniskirts! Bell-bottoms! Elizabeth Kendall's native intelligence and gift for storytelling entrance the reader, as the wardrobe charts the most important events in B.'s life and the outfits she assembles for each. We watch as B. copes with the untimely death of her mother; makes a go of magazine work--and glamour--in New York; and, after the inevitable false starts and wrong moves (including, of course, in her choice of clothing), finally comes into her own. Part memoir, part fashion and cultural history of the last five decades, Autobiography of a Wardrobe is an exploration of the clothes each generation has embraced, the smallest details in which we are able to seek comfort and meaning, and the places and things--sometimes odd or unexpected--in which we store our memories. "This is a book to devour with great pleasure, as it brings back our own reactions to youth's wardrobe: saddle shoe lust and, for me, in Brooklyn rather than in the Midwest, a decade earlier, bobby socks and penny loafers. But the passion is the same in every period: no one has gotten at the intense importance of these issues in the feminine bildungsroman. Kendall has given us something wonderful." --Linda Nochlin, author of Bather, Bodies, Beauty "A writer of deep and delicious gifts, Elizabeth Kendall now gives us a subtle, original riff on the clothes we wear. Clothes may not make the man or woman, but they certainly make this book. It is at once whimsical and profound." --Catharine Stimpson, University Professor and Dean of the Graduate School of Arts and Science, New York University Elizabeth Kendall is the author of Where She Dances, The Runaway Bride, and American Daughter, and her work has appeared in The New Yorker and The New York TImes, among other periodicals. In 2004-2005 she was a fellow at the Cullman Center of the New York Public Library, and in 2006 she received a Fulbright grant to do research in St. Petersburg, Russia. She lives in New York City. Reviewed by Robin Givhan A wardrobe assembled over the course of a lifetime is more than just a musty collection of out-of-date dresses, worn-out trousers and shoes that have been resoled more times than one can remember. A tormenting old bathing suit conveys the emotional truth about a coming-of-age summer when puberty struck and the body rebelled. A leotard and a slip of chiffon may instantly recount that triumphant moment when the body -- with its wide hips and narrow shoulders -- ceased to be the enemy, and its strength and flexibility became a source of pride. And a beloved Marimekko dress can speak eloquently about making one's way as a young adult, about burying a parent and realizing that adult responsibility is unavoidable. Elizabeth Kendall, author of previous books on American dance and Hollywood romantic comedy, explores the emotional connection we have to our clothes in Autobiography of a Wardrobe. But instead of allowing the wearer to share how sophisticated she felt in her first pair of Italian shoes, it's the shoes that speak. The narrator in this tale is the wardrobe itself. Kendall lets the clothes describe for themselves how they tried to reassure the body -- B., for short -- and give it confidence. But the wardrobe has its own insecurities. Will it, for instance, be able to pass muster at a job interview at a fancy New York fashion magazine? "Here began a strange time when B. served almost as a fashion arbiter herself, just when I, her wardrobe, was in My sorriest state." The wardrobe speaks in simple, brisk sentences. It is not prone to flowery or emotional language. It does not indulge in prolonged self-analysis. Here, it writes of its own inception: "Five-year-old B. in a daffodil-yellow pinafore and a white blouse with puffed sleeves stands at the end of a chintz couch, in the midst of grandparents, aunts, and parents. The pinafore has embroidery on the skirt and a wide yellow sash tied at the back of the waist. B. is leaning into the mother, who is sitting on the couch holding a baby brother. On B.'s feet are red 'party shoes' with ankle straps and white socks. At her right temple, a white barrette holds back straight, fine dishwater-blond hair. This dress can stand as well as any for My birth. Wardrobes start out like children, without conscious i