The jumpsuit has gone through multiple transformations in recent pop culture history. It was once favored by middle-aged women trying to make their workout clothes as fashionable as their mall attire of Mom jeans. Then it was the garment for gangsters in ’90s mob movies. Uma Thurman gave it a bit of kick by wearing that notorious yellow jumpsuit while slicing up bad guys in Kill Bill. But no one has done as much for the jumpsuit as gym teacher Sue Sylvester in Fox’s breakout show “Glee.” And that’s one of many reasons why I love her.
Yes, love her. In nearly every review of “Glee” you read, critics describe Sue Sylvester as the character you “love to hate.” But what’s to hate? Sue is nothing if not endearing. Despite her reign of “irrational random terror” and intimidation, she’s actually not the antagonist to Mr. Schuester and his team of lovably awkward teens (leave that role to Mr. Schue’s soul-crushing, baby-faking wife, Terri).
In fact, Sue has many protagonistic qualities. For one, she’s seen her fair share of hardship. Her priceless one-liners reveal she’s been waterboarded, has hepatitis, is missing a uterus, drinks beef bone smoothies and hasn’t been able to get the hovercraft she desperately craves. Now that’s adversity.
Like any good protagonist, Sue also knows the meaning of heartbreak. One of the most precious scenes is when she falls in love with news anchorman Rod Remington (“You sunk my battleship, Rod. You sunk it hard.”), only to find him a day later mid-romp in the news studio with another woman. You can’t help but empathize with Sue as she stands alone, embarrassed, clad in the new red zoot suit she bought for her date with Rod (Reason #347 why I love Sue Sylvester: She owns a zoot suit).
And yes, she may have the occasional streak of arrogance that angers loyal “Gleeks” (the term coined for “Glee” superfans), but every hero has this fatal flaw. Spiderman, Hercules… they all thought they were the best once they discovered their powers. I’m sure even Greek hero Achilles, like Sue, thought he was “elegant, even in the heat of battle.” A measly arrow through the heel killed that guy, but we still consider him a hero.
So for all you “love to haters,” it’s time to reevaluate your feelings for Sue. While Finn and Rachel’s, or Quinn and Finn’s, or Rachel and Puck’s (wow, those kids are an incestuous bunch) will-they-won’t-they antics and the fabulous songs are supposedly the show’s allure, it’s my favorite Adidas jumpsuit-wearing gym teacher that keeps me tuning in. And that’s how Sue “C’s” it.
