The first suit I ever bought was from a secondhand place in New York when I was on tour there in the early ’80s. It was three pieces, lime green with an orange check. I have no idea what it was made of, only that it melted when you would nod off and the cigarette would fall on your trousers. And I was actually imprisoned in it. I was busted buying drugs on the Lower East Side, and I was thrown in a holding pen in this ridiculous lime green suit. And I was thinking, Jesus, I wish it wasn’t lime green. And of course, the one other white guy in the cell runs up and goes, ‘Fuck, it’s Nick Cave!’ And what’s more, we had a gig that night. We were staying at the Iroquois hotel, and when the sergeant said, ‘Nick Cave, c’mon, make your phone call,’ I asked him to call the Iroquois. And he says, ‘Can you spell that?’ And I’m like ‘I… R…’ ‘Nope! Next!’ So I was there for three days, and I missed the shows, sitting there in my lime green suit.
— Nick Cave (via lilacea)