The Red Suit Project
Maybe there is still magic in the world
If you are new around here, I have an ongoing photography project where I take portraits of women in red dresses. You can read more about it at the end of this post, but that’s all you need to know for this story. For years, my friend Alan and I have been joking about doing a Red Suit Project. Whenever I posted a new dress shoot, he would quip back with funny ideas for the suit version. At one point, he even made AI mock-ups with a guy on Mars and at Wendy’s, rocking a red suit.
I always told him, “Let me know when you have the suit, and I’ll be ready.”
Neither of us thought it would be more than a joke. Alan is a behind-the-scenes guy, not the kind of man to jump at an ostentatious solo photo shoot. He’s a dance dad; he’s sat through thousands of hours of performances for his children. We became friends when he brought pizza and helped run errands for my crazy film projects his kids were in.
However, I believe there is a little bit of show people in all of us; we only need the right circumstances to let ourselves shimmy into the spotlight. I had proof of Alan’s. While collecting hilarious senior photos for one Instagram series, he also showed me these “just because” photos his friends did in high school. Alan is in the middle.
Show people, I tell you.
About a month ago, I opened my messages to a photo of a red suit.
“I’m ready, Jackie.”
I yelped with joy, for nothing thrills me more than a ridiculous idea come to life. We schemed up a plan and traipsed into the city.
Alan rocked that red suit.
It was quite the spectacle.
While we were brainstorming ideas, Alan remembered the short film The Red Balloon he had to watch every year in school after immigrating from Hong Kong to San Francisco. He had no idea why he was watching a silent film about Paris, but it stuck with him. And so, a giant red balloon came with us.
I love this city—people had a variety of hilarious responses to Alan and his red balloon. One guy snapped a photo, calmly stated, “San Francisco,” and said nothing else. Another woman asked if he was the creepy clown It. The vast majority of humans lit up when they saw Alan and his balloon, huge smiles on their faces.
Both of us were surprised at how quickly it became a community project—we had so many people ask to be in the photos with him. They jumped right in, hamming it up, the place oozing with show people. It was a delight bomb all around, and I was amazed at what one red balloon could do.
After making it through the crowds, we wrapped up with a few more solo shots. By this point, we’d had such funny interactions I’d thought we’d gotten our best shots of the day, but I ended up loving these, too.
The first time I flipped to the photo below, I cried.
I couldn’t believe how relaxed and happy Alan looked, leaning against a wall all by himself with an enormous red balloon. I shook my head and laughed, “What were we doing?”
In some ways, we were doing nothing. And yet, in some ways, we were doing everything.
This was not important, and it was so important.
This was the work of play.
A few weeks ago, somebody posed a thoughtful prompt to one of my communities. It was an invitation to sit with God and ask, “What can I offer to a world in pain?”
As I’ve pondered versions of that question over the years, the work of play has come up again and again. This feels silly and unimportant, especially because we like to rank our work as if there is a cosmic grading system and we are the scorekeepers. On and on, we sort, judging ourselves and others, “This is important, and this is not. This is meaningful, and this is not.”
And yet, I’ve learned that each of our offerings to this bleeding ol’ world is as unique as we are. We all have our own song to sing, and the more I listen, the more play and whimsical spectacles remain part of mine. Until I get alternative instructions, I suppose you can find me hauling giant balloons onto ferries and letting beautiful souls be seen, one red suit at a time.
Curious about The Red Dress Project?
How it started: At the pandemic’s beginning, I watched wildflowers push through rubble at the beach and was flooded with a mysterious and unshakeable urge to photograph a woman in a red dress amid the blooms. I couldn’t articulate it at the moment, but the red dress became a symbol of defiance against the despair of that time, a sign of life in the air thick with talk of death. In the last few years, I’ve photographed a variety of women in red dresses around the world. Alan is my first Red Suit (and Red Balloon) Project, and I can’t wait to see where this quirky project goes next.
Read more about how it began: She Carries it All
My short film:
In a fun turn of events, I got to make a short film about the project for an art show.
Watch the film here!
(It is about 10 minutes long, and there is a discussion of pregnancy loss if that is a sensitive topic for you.)
Read all about it: The Red Dress Project Film
Is the RED calling to you?
If you want to participate in this project, let’s dream and scheme! Send me a message:
Or connect with me on Instagram: jackieknapp_
Raising my glass to all those belonging to the Nonserious Society of Humans Seeking the Secret Magic of Life. You are their Queen 💛
Everything to love about this 🎈