I Am Red Coat From Pretty Little Liars
Though I am but a charred remnant of my glorious former self, I am Red Coat from Pretty Little Liars.
Why do I not have a "the" in front of my name or maintain lower-case-letter status? Because I'm a legitimate character, dammit, and that should be recognized! You may have seen me cinched onto all four main characters' lithe frames on recent billboards, bus stops, and ABC Family-friendly websites. That's nothing compared to my superstar status on this show. Why do I not get top billing? Because I'm elusive, bitches.
Per the top of the summer premiere, the line "Who is Red Coat?" was uttered with prominence and importance because, really, who am I? Though Aria held up a picture of me in my better days enveloping the lustrous blonde curls of someone who may or may not be dead Alison, I no longer take on this form. Why? Because I'm changing it up!
Yes, Toby may have spied me being rescued from the ashes of the burning lodge that ended last season, but did you not see how that heroic fireman held me aloft? Though my body may be damaged, my spirit smolders yet. And don't think for a second I'm willing to relinquish my title as the ultimate piece of symbolic clothing on this show.
Aside from the random extra sporting a red sweatshirt in the crowd of Rosewood citizens peeping the dead body of Detective Wilden, Hanna decided to hang out with Mona in a pair of blood-red disco leggings. I'm not sure what the costume department is trying to hint at here, but I am classic and crimson, and will ALWAYS remain in style, despite this generation's predilection for the synthetic pleasures of American Apparel.
I don't even want to get into the red shirt situation happening anytime someone's mom pops up on screen. I may be timeless, but I am not now nor will I ever be seen in a Talbot's or Ann Taylor Loft. Thus, why does the newly returned Mrs. DiLaurentis deign to wear a reddish button-up oxford as she peers out the window of her deceased daughter's bedroom shrine into the eyes of Spencer? Because the writers want you to think anyone and anything sporting a subtle shade of claret might be someone connected to me.
How else do you explain Emily'sconfused fondling of a clown toy found in an old box of maybe-dead Alison's things? How many times did we have to see her petting the red pants of this oddly chosen clown for us to realize that maybe it's something important? (What's with this show and clowns, anyway?)
No matter. We must move on to the more important matter at hand: BLACK VEIL. Yes, the li'l Liars and their new cohort Mystery Mona took themselves to the church funeral (lit by red candles, mind you) of Detective Wilden to find the evidence "A" apparently planted on his open casket cadaver. All they found was Hanna's mom's phone and a congregation swathed in shades of noir. Then, from the belly of a black limo, escorted by some blond cologne ad sporting a black suit, a lady in a black fitted dress sporting a black lace veil emerged and took a seat on one of the pews shouting, silently so only I could hear her, "There's a new symbolic costume piece in town. RED IS DEAD."
I say, it's all lipstick on a dead pig.
What did you think?