Put Some Mustard on It.

When I was little, I used to sell lemonade at my brother’s little league baseball games. I made a fortune. Lots of middle-aged dads would stop by, ask how business was going, and wink as they handed me a $10 bill for a 10 cent cup of lemonade (made from Country Time mix and delivered in a Dixie cup), telling me to keep the change.

That was how I chose to support my brother in his athletics. When my father or brother occasionally strong-armed me into “playing” the sport itself, it was torture. (My poor brother — one of five kids, and the rest of us girls.) It wasn’t so much that I hated playing. I actually recall some glorious summer days spent in the backyard of the home of some close family friends, holding batting practice for what must have been hours, and having a great time. It was the competitive streak that would come out whenever I would feel like I couldn’t hit, run, or catch as well as my brother (and I couldn’t do any of those things as well as my brother, being younger, punier, and horrifically uncoordinated).

I remember my dad coaching me to throw the ball with a little more zip, advising: “Now put some mustard on it!” Poor soul. What a lost cause I was.

And yet this cluster of hazy memories materialized as I noticed that I have been eyeballing some phenomenal mustard-y-marigold pieces for this fall. It’s a color I’ve never contemplated before…but me likey. Let’s start with this car coat ($400):