My Life as a Fashion Critic Has Its Ups and Downs

Not a week of the Simpson trial goes by without my learning something of value.

Last week I found out that fashion writing is not my field, at least in the view of two lawyers unfortunate enough to have fallen victim to my critiques.

Specifically, I’m talking about Robert L. Shapiro of the O.J. Simpson defense team and Deputy Dist. Atty. Alan Carter, the prosecutor in the Heidi Fleiss case.

Describing Shapiro’s appearance at a news conference outside the County Jail, I’d written that he was “wearing a garish warm-up suit and an odd baseball cap.”

That afternoon, I received a letter from Shapiro by fax:

“Dear Bill:

I read your column this morning and was surprised to see that you have become a fashion critic. I wish to point out the following. . . . For your information, the jogging suit was what was worn proudly by members of the United States Olympic team, and my odd baseball cap was a gift from Commander Kent Ewing, a college classmate who launched the naval attack in Operation Desert Storm, and honors his aircraft carrier, the USS America.

Sincerely

Robert L. Shapiro.”

OK. I didn’t recognize the patriotic value of either of these garments. On the other hand, I’m not disloyal, either to the Olympic team or the U.S. Navy, as Shapiro seemed to imply.

The day before, I’d written that Deputy D.A. Alan Carter “came across as a rough-at-the-edges street lawyer, coat unbuttoned, shirt looking a bit wrinkled.”

When I wrote it, I’d thought it would give Carter a career boost. I figured some smart pol, reading that, would run Carter for public office as a street-smart crime fighter, a lawyer with the common touch so badly needed in our criminal justice system.

But when I encountered Carter in a crowded Criminal Courts Building elevator Thursday I could see he took an entirely different view.

You don’t think much of my attire, he said. On the contrary, I replied, I thought you looked good. “Street lawyer” was meant as a compliment.

Apparently, Carter didn’t think I had expressed my feelings well. He said the column was poorly written. That started a discussion that ranged from my literary ability to my character, matters that were absorbed with great interest by the 20 or so others jammed into the elevator with us. The exchange ended when we reached the 12th floor and I got off.

Carter and Shapiro have a point. Who am I to comment about fashion? My family approves the ties I put on in the morning before I’m allowed out of the house.

*

What’s important to understand about the Simpson trial is that there is a paucity of news in this particular, inconclusive stage, with its procedural hearings and jury selection. Yet the media machine can’t stand idle.

Much of the time is spent covering events that don’t produce news, as happened Thursday when I made it into the courtroom for the first time during the trial.

For me, the very act of getting in was news. Each news organization is allowed one seat and ours is occupied by Andrea Ford, who is covering the trial. But there was an extra ticket for the afternoon session and, after I had waited in line, it was given to me.

Once in the door, I was impressed even though I frequently see some of the leading characters in the trial around the courthouse and watch the sessions on television. It was a bit like being at the Super Bowl after years of viewing it on TV.

Simpson looks better in person than on television, resembling a businessman being tried for a white collar crime instead of for murder. In fact, the whole cast has a much more animated appearance. Judge Lance A. Ito, whom I learned later was coming down with a bad cold, moved matters along briskly. Simpson seemed involved and interested. The lawyers appeared relaxed.

The session was devoted to questions about Simpson’s County Jail confinement. The nature of these questions was not disclosed. Ito gaveled the court into session. The lawyers disappeared into a back room to discuss the questions. When they emerged, they told Ito the questions had been resolved. With that, Ito adjourned for the day.

*

On such a day, the pressure to produce news when there is none creates a lot of tension and bad manners.

I saw this demonstrated after the court session when a mob of camera crews and reporters followed defense attorney Johnnie L. Cochran Jr. out of the Criminal Courts Building at lunchtime.

Microphones were jammed into his face. Questions were fired at him. Cameras were recording. The news people and Cochran moved slowly toward the street, as if they were engaged in a strange ritual dance.

It was no place for an innocent passerby. Somewhere along the route, a woman who had nothing to do with the case had her foot trampled by a cameraman. When she complained, he denied it.

“That’s your footprint on my shoe,” she said. At this point the cameraman blamed it all on her, saying she should have stepped aside. “I said, ‘I’m coming through,’ ” he told her.

To his companions, he complained: “A hundred people coming at them with cameras and they expect the world to stop.”

The world may stop for the Simpson trial when things get hot, but this wasn’t the day.