Herman, Where's My Ermine?

By Rick Horowitz

So the hoopla's all been hooped. The festivities were festive, the ceremonies perfectly ceremonial. Everybody came and went, ate and drank, marched and floated, danced and cheered. And when it was all over, William Jefferson Clinton was President of the United States -- which is exactly what he was before the week ever got started.

Thousands of puff pastries gave their lives for this?

And for the pageantry of it. And, of course, for the revelers' chance to see and touch and even (gasp!) walk across a plywood rendition of the world's most numbingly invoked span of political engineering. (Hint: It rhymes with "Midge....")

Anyway: Before the last ball gown goes off to the dry cleaners, before the last lobbyist's smile is stuffed back into its box, let's take a minute to remember the little things. Or one little thing in particular -- just a phrase, in fact, in one more story about one more inaugural party.

This was a big inaugural party, thrown by MTV and Conde Nast at Washington's prestigious Corcoran Gallery. Glitzy as all get-out, apparently, with 2,000-odd people filling the place, and stars and starinas everywhere you turned. It was also, you'll recall, cold in Washington, and so the 2,000-odd people showed up at the Corcoran with 2,000-odd winter coats, not to mention scarves and gloves and ear muffs and the like.

And the job of keeping track of all this insulated finery fell to one Alyson Saunders. Or as the story put it, just in passing, "Alyson Saunders, a professional coat organizer...."

Excuse me? You heard right: "Professional coat organizer." Ms. Saunders and her team of 20 coat-checkers were there to make sure that the coat you wore to the Corcoran was the coat you went home in. No hidden hides. No stolen stoles.

And I swear to you on a pile of wooden hangers: I've never heard the words "professional coat organizer" in my life! And here's Ms. Saunders, at 24 years old, making a career of it.

What I haven't figured out -- among the many things I haven't figured out -- is whether "professional coat organizer" is something that's been around for centuries, like bookbinder or hand-dipped-candle maker (dip the candle, not the maker), some little piece of artisanry I've simply missed noticing all this time. Or whether "professional coat organizer" is one of those new professions for the new millennium, like Web-site designer or VCR-clock resetter.

And how do you become a "professional coat organizer" anyhow? Do you need to be licensed, or can anybody do it? Are there classes you can take? (Sable 101? The Physics of Static Cling? The Seven Hat Racks of Highly Effective People?) Or can an aspiring coat organizer apprentice herself to a master craftsman and learn the business right out there in the real world?

Are there competing schools of thought on coat organizing? The "Sort by Fabric" school versus the "Couples Share a Hanger" school? The "Little Paper Tickets" school versus the "Plastic Numbers So Big You Can't Sit Down Without Injuring Yourself" school? Do they "Drape the Scarf Around the Collar," or "Jam It Into the Sleeve"?

Tough questions, every one of them. But I'm guessing these are exactly the kinds of things you have to figure out before you turn pro.

What I know is that Alyson Saunders is 24 years old and already has -- on the night in question, at least -- 20 people working for her. When's the last time I had 20 people working for me? (When's the first time?)

So: Is it worth looking into? A little something for that mid-career adjustment? I wouldn't rule it out. It's a chance to serve, to hobnob with the biggies. And think of all those tips!

Just call me Wrapmaster Rick.

1/23/97

©1997 Rick Horowitz. All rights reserved.