Ellen Byerrum: Styling for Murder in "the City that Fashion Forgot"

Ellen Byerrum (photo by Jean Marie Ward)

Style mavens consider "Washington, D.C., fashion sense" a contradiction in terms. But fans of journalist, playwright and novelist Ellen Byerrum consider that contradiction part of the charm of her Lacey Smithsonian/Crimes of Fashion mystery series. Despite her name, Lacey shares no connection with the famous museum except an "inside the Beltway" address and a hankering after things vintage and rare. Even so, this fictional fashion columnist's pursuit of that perfect vintage outfit is just as likely to lead her to a murder scene as it is to an auction of celebrity cast-offs.

Lacey does, however, share her creator's eye for detail. She solves mysteries by pursuing "fashion clues," giving Byerrum ample scope to comment on the modes and mores of the federal agencies, non-profits and contractors she must cover objectively in her day job. Recently, Byerrum talked to Crescent Blues about the challenges of mixing murder and manners -- and the real significance of pink.

Crescent Blues: What's the connection between cars and character in the Lacey Smithsonian series?

Ellen Byerrum: Every character has a car that says something about her or him. It probably stems from my being from the West, where cars are considered a basic right and a venue for self-expression, as well as an avenue to freedom. Here in D.C., I take the Metro to work, because driving is too frustrating and parking fees are outrageous. However, I still love the freedom of having a car and the great American road trip. And you are what you drive.

The cars in the books do reflect the personalities of the various characters. Lacey's Nissan 280ZX is fast and pretty and well loved (and vintage), but troubled and labor-intensive, always in the shop. Stella has a cute little BMW Mini Cooper, flashy yet affordable. Tony Trujillo, who is confident and flirtatious and macho and from New Mexico, has a black Mustang convertible with a white ragtop and interior. Vic Donovan drives a forest green Jeep Wrangler, a practical, sturdy, American go-anywhere vehicle that won't let you down.

Crescent Blues: Who was your first professional role model?

Ellen Byerrum: My role model was the greatest redheaded star reporter who never lived -- Brenda Starr. Every day when I was a kid I would spread the comics section of The Denver Post, a large traditional broadsheet newspaper, out on the floor and crawl up and down reading the comics. I can't remember any of them now except Brenda, who not only hooked the best scoops, she had a nonstop fabulous wardrobe, and she received black orchids from her mysterious and handsome Basil St. John. The Post stopped Brenda Starr the day after she married St.John. The bums! I never read the comics again.

I'd like to add that my other role model was another fabulous star reporter who came alive on the page, the stage, and the silver screen, Rosalind Russell as Hildy Johnson in His Girl Friday, based on the play The Front Page by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur. Hildy Johnson in the play is a man, but changing the sex of the character to a woman was a stroke of genius. In the film Hildy trades barbs and double-entendres with Cary Grant, an elegantly handsome rascal. One of my favorite scenes is Rosalind Russell running after her source in high heels and taking a running leap and bringing him down. So okay, they're fiction. By the time I was in college I also admired real female action heroes like the fabulous photographer Margaret Bourke-White.

Crescent Blues: What prompted the fashion focus of the series?

Ellen Byerrum: Well actually, I was reading a ton of mysteries with heroines who were great: smart, gutsy, and not afraid to fight. However, they seemed to fall apart when it came to clothes, they wore nothing but wrinkled jeans and T-shirts. They were terrified of dressing up in a real outfit. One very famous detective had a wardrobe consisting of exactly one awful black polyester dress. After reading a dozen of these mysteries, I still liked the character, but I wanted to light a match to that hateful black polyester dress and watch it melt back into the petrochemicals from which it came.

I wanted to create a heroine who could be witty and clever and gutsy and fight back and still know how to dress like a smart, classy, fashionable and attractive woman. Real women are like that, why couldn't a fictional heroine be like that?

Crescent Blues: Didn't you think it might be hard to mix fashion and Washington, D.C.?

Ellen Byerrum: Actually I thought it would be funny, here in the City That Fashion Forgot, and it has been. However, I would like to point out that D.C. has its own sense of style, where people do not want to convey that they are overly interested in fashion because they have a "serious mission." They're setting policy and passing laws, spending money. They don't want us to think they spent their morning in Nordstrom's shoe department. (Even if they did, picking out the most boring shoes they could find.) I will say, however, that there is a very definite Ann Taylor and Talbot's vibe in Washington.

While my character Lacey Smithsonian is a fashion reporter, she looks at clothing as a set of clues, an indicator of such things as political persuasion, personality, status and state of mind. She looks for fashion stories that are keyed to local concerns, like a Crimes of Fashion column she wrote in Killer Hair, "Never Wear Pink to Testify Before the Special Prosecutor." Too much pink says you're trying too hard to look innocent, so wearing pink to a serious criminal interrogation makes you automatically look guilty. And duplicitous. And clueless. So for Lacey that's a fashion clue!

Crescent Blues: How many of your own experiences as a reporter have found their way into the series? What about the experiences of colleagues?

Ellen Byerrum: Just a few. Lacey's background as a reporter on a small newspaper in Sagebrush, Colorado, was inspired by things I experienced. A murder scene from Sagebrush is briefly described in Killer Hair, which was similar to a story that I had covered on my first newspaper. Who knows where a story may lead? It's possible I'll draw on other memories in the future.

Crescent Blues: How much of Lacey's wardrobe reflects your own?

Ellen Byerrum: Lacey's interest in vintage clothing does reflect my own, but I have given her more great vintage outfits than I have. I also gave her a trunk that belonged to her favorite Great-aunt Mimi, which contains a treasure trove of patterns and fabrics from the 1940s -- a window into the past and into Lacey's soul. Many people have asked me if Aunt Mimi is based on anyone I know and do I have the trunk. But Mimi is fiction, and unfortunately, I do not have that magical trunk.

Crescent Blues: How did you first get into vintage clothing?

Ellen Byerrum: I've always leaned toward classic clothing, jackets and suits, a style no doubt imprinted on my brain by watching Rosalind Russell and other actresses in great old black-and-white films, where women were strong and well-dressed and integral to the plot. But the first time I bought anything vintage was at a little store in Middlebury, Vermont. I found a black gabardine jacket from the 1940s with a flared skirt, belt, and padded shoulders. It still had the tag from the International Ladies Garment Workers Union, although very faded. I had the oddest feeling when I first tried it on. It fit me perfectly, as if it were made for me, and it was incredibly detailed and finely put together. It looked great on me. It was me. I was hooked.

Crescent Blues: Care to share some of your vintage clothing sources?

Ellen Byerrum: There are some nice vintage stores in Carytown in Richmond, Virginia, and I've found some nice things at Venus on the Half Shell in Frederick, Maryland, and at stores in Pittsburgh and Vermont. I do try to look for vintage stores when I visit new places.

However, the clothes that I like, from the 1940s, the late 1930s, and some suits from the 1950s, are becoming scarce, because their original owners are dying, sad to say. There is a finite supply, and I'm finding it harder to locate them. Many vintage stores now seem to start with clothes from the '60s and '70s.

Crescent Blues: Is your fondness for vintage clothing and cars part of a larger trend?

Ellen Byerrum: I'm not sure, actually. Sometimes when you write you find that you plant seeds for stories that evolve later, even though you're not conscious of it at the time. That may be the case here.

Crescent Blues: Can we expect to see these interests play out in future Lacey Smithsonian mysteries?

Ellen Byerrum: Lacey will continue to have car woes, as you can see in the latest book, Hostile Makeover. It's getting harder to write about the clothes, but Mimi's trunk will always be there to supply Lacey with some inspiration. And there are always fashion clues to be followed to unravel a fashionable mystery.

Crescent Blues: What first attracted you to the mystery genre? (Please, feel free to share your first dead body story. It's great!)

Ellen Byerrum: You mean the story about the dead woman at the country club? Okay. If you insist.

I saw my first dead body when I was ten, at my grandparents' country club. She was a brunette, probably middle-aged, wearing a pink suit and a pink hat, sitting on a round pink brocade sofa, and I stood and watched because I thought she looked pretty and I liked pink. (I am probably warped, but this strikes me as a fashion clue.) I thought she was asleep, until someone helpfully put a white towel from the ladies' room over her face.

My brother and I were fascinated. We kept getting shooed away, but like all insatiably curious children, we kept sneaking back. The most shocking thing to me was seeing the wet spot on the sofa that was left. I still remember thinking, "That's what happens when you die." (No doubt followed by a big "Yuck!")

Several days later we attended the funeral with my grandmother, and I remember her whispering, "The children didn't see anything." Ha. Adults can be so dim.

It didn't seem to affect me, but I have always remembered it. I have to conclude that there are far worse ways to go than dying in a pretty pink suit on a pretty pink sofa.

As for the mystery genre, I always liked mysteries because I like stories where something happens. The first time I was assigned to write a short story was in the sixth grade. I can't remember the whole thing, but it involved spies and me (the narrator) sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night to go to a very dangerous alley downtown , where I overheard some kind of spy plot. I don't know what was more intoxicating, the thought of sneaking out, or discovering spies, or my teacher's reaction when he asked me if I really did this. Hoping to catch a delinquent in the making, no doubt.

Crescent Blues: You've written that you originally went into journalism because you didn't feel you had any stories of your own to tell. What changed your mind?

Ellen Byerrum: I have lots of stories now. I think they take a while to season.

I chose journalism because I thought I'd meet new people, have new experiences and grow. And I was right. I went on wild horse hunts with the Bureau of Land Management -- which didn't know anything about wild ponies, not a clue, at least at that time. I spent time with ranchers and miners and cowboys. I covered murders and police news and crawled through a massage parlor window so I could interview the girls working inside. When I chose reporting, I knew a lot of English majors who wanted to be writers, but I didn't think they had much that was interesting to write. There was no action and a lot of navel gazing in their pages. I didn't want to fall into that rut. I wanted to find the stories that I knew were out there waiting to happen to me.

Journalism also teaches valuable skills, the ability to listen to people for the pithy quote, the discipline to write under deadline, and the appreciation for a good story.

Crescent Blues: How did your decision to get a private investigator's license play into this decision?

Ellen Byerrum: Learning about private investigation sounded like fun, and it was. It was also a wonderful source of research methods and ideas. It inspired two related one-act comedies, Remedial Surveillance and Deja Rendezvous, which have been published together by Samuel French as Gumshoe Rendezvous. Gumshoe just had its professional premiere in Orlando, Florida, at The Jester Theater Company, and it was terrific. The actors gave inspired performances and it was very funny.

Crescent Blues: How did you find out about the course?

Ellen Byerrum: I took a one-night workshop in D.C. from a private investigator who talked about how to move into the field. He mentioned a course that was taught by another private investigator. I looked into it and took the course. People in Virginia can also take the course at some community colleges. The rules are different for every state.

Crescent Blues: What was the value of the course? Couldn't you have just researched this stuff on your own, for example?

Ellen Byerrum: Sure, I could have researched it on my own, but I process information better when I experience it in a hands-on way. Besides, I wanted the experience of it. Being in a group with uniquely bad surveillance skills, which required a second remedial session on tailing subjects, I learned that this particular aspect of the job can be a real drag, though pretty funny in the retelling. I also met a guy who fell through a ceiling while he was planting a surveillance camera in an adultery case. It happened at a very delicate moment during a romantic encounter between his subjects, and he barely escaped a beating. I love those crazy anecdotes.

Crescent Blues: Who is Eliot Byerrum and why is his name on your plays?

Ellen Byerrum: Eliot Byerrum is my pen name when I write plays. I chose Eliot for the simple reasons that I liked the way it sounded, and more men than women have plays produced. Years ago, out of curiosity, I took a blue highlighter and a pink highlighter and The New York Times and I highlighted all the names of playwrights who had productions in New York for several months during the theatre season. Imagine my surprise when they turned out to be written overwhelmingly by men! I didn't want to be segregated and put in a box called "women's plays," so I chose to become Eliot when I write for the stage. And Eliot has had more productions than Ellen ever had. With the same plays.

It is extremely difficult to achieve productions of your work for men as well as women. It was easier for me to get a three-book deal than it is to get a play produced.

Crescent Blues: Are you still writing plays, or do novels occupy all your free time?

Ellen Byerrum: I have plans to write more plays, but it is nearly impossible to find the time. I took some time last year to rewrite a full-length play of mine, The Angel of Death Rises Early, but it took valuable time away from the novels.

I have to say that there is nothing like writing a play and having it done well. Hearing an audience respond to your work with laughter and applause is something like being bathed in warm honey. On the other hand, when your work has been savaged by others, whether on the stage or in the press, nothing is quite as excruciating.

Crescent Blues: How do you juggle a full-time job in journalism with writing in your off-hours?

Ellen Byerrum: I have no idea. But I suspect it has a lot to do with having a very understanding husband who supports my writing. My husband, Bob Williams, edits and critiques my work, and he has put together my postcards, business cards and flyers. He also designed and maintains my web site. He even rubs my back when I'm tired. I pretty much won the husband lottery.

My other trick is fooling myself into writing. I write in coffee shops and libraries after work many nights, because it's too tempting to go home from work and just nap. If I'm in a coffee shop I can fool part of myself into thinking I'm "out" and not working, but I'm still getting words down on paper.

Crescent Blues: How do you stave off burn-out? What do you do to "put something back into the well?"

Ellen Byerrum: I'm feeling the burn-out right now, but I'm looking forward to spending a couple of weeks this fall with Bob in Vermont at a writer's colony, and doing lots of things to recharge. I love to sleep late, read books, nap, take long walks, sit in front of a fire and share ghost stories with the other writers, poke through vintage clothing stores, kick piles of leaves, drink hot apple cider and play with pumpkins.

The writer's colony gives you the illusion that you're far away and that you really can't be disturbed by the outside world. It has only one pay phone and it's very hard to find a signal for cell phones. There are no televisions, no phones in the rooms and you don't feel like checking your e-mail every day, so instead you build a fire and talk and read and recharge. And write. It's lovely.

Crescent Blues: Who are the Mystery Chicks and what prompted you to join them?

Ellen Byerrum: The Mystery Chicks are five mystery writers who write "chick-lit mysteries." Besides myself the other chicks are Nancy Cohen, Laura Durham, Alesia Holliday, and Susan McBride. There is a web site featuring our works at www.themysterychicks.com. We also do joint appearances when schedules permit. It's a great group of women.

Crescent Blues: As a writer, how much truth is there to the saw, "Strength in numbers?" How important are writers' organizations and group events to a fiction writer's career?

Ellen Byerrum: That's an interesting question, and no doubt there are a multitude of answers. There is strength in numbers, particularly when you are starting out. Some bookstores prefer to have more than one writer for a book signing because together you have the potential to draw bigger numbers into store. I think writers' groups are invaluable, both when you are a new writer and as you grow in your career. I have found that members of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime have been very generous and more than willing to share information abut their struggles and successes and offer support. Sisters in Crime was founded to bring a focus to women mystery writers, who are not reviewed as often as male writers.

Crescent Blues: What's next for Lacey and the gang?

Ellen Byerrum: Lacey finally gets a chance to go to Paris on an adventure of a lifetime and her romance with a certain handsome rascal heats up to the boiling point. There are two more books under contract for Lacey Smithsonian. I have been working on book four, Raiders of the Lost Corset. I will start on the fifth book soon.

Crescent Blues: Anything else you'd like to add?

Ellen Byerrum: Crescent Blues is a terrific web site. Thanks for giving valuable time and space to writers!

Jean Marie Ward

Click here to learn more about Ellen Byerrum.