Lifestyle

These strangers swap clothes, bags and jewelry like BFFs

When Karen, a 39-year-old urban planner, found herself about to go on her first post-divorce date after 13 years of marriage, she was nervous and scrambling for a killer outfit. But the mother of two, who asked that her last name not be used for professional reasons, didn’t head out to one of the many trendy shops in her Lower East Side neighborhood.

Instead, she scored a great date look without even leaving her building. A charitable neighbor and fellow size 4 swooped in and lent Karen the elusive perfect black pants.

“I felt confident in them, and, yes, there was a second date,” says Karen.

In a city where denizens routinely avoid direct eye contact and fidget with their phones in the elevator rather than engage in conversation, a building on Grand Street is redefining neighborliness — one traded item of clothing at a time.

The 50-year-old Seward Park Cooperative, a grouping of four brown-block high-rises, might blend into the landscape of other anonymous and nondescript residential complexes. Only here, open closets are par for the course.

“If you have a special night out, and you don’t want to plunk down a lot of cash, you’ll clothes-swap,” explains Karen.

It’s like the sisterhood of the traveling pants — except it’s all on the same block.

Garcia (left) gets into a purple phase with help from neighbor Rosenberg.Zandy Mangold

The clothes-swapping originally started with a moms’ play-group in the building and slowly evolved from talk of blocks to Balenciaga. Over the past few years, an e-mail listserv of nearly 200 women, all working mothers, has sprung up. Although messages might discuss safety concerns in the area or coordinate meal-cooking for a new mom, the content is often fashion-minded.

The open door — and open closet — policy extends to diamond-stud earrings, formal Armani suits and a pair of size 7, black patent Louboutins up for the taking for the woman who posted, “looking for fancy heels for an event.”

“We’re like the Real Housewives of Seward Park,” jokes Karen.

Last May, Michele Egan, a 40-year-old mom of two who works in finance publishing, was scrambling for an outfit for an important job interview. The problem? She was pregnant, and nothing in her closet fit her swelling body.

“I had nothing that worked, and had two days to come up with an outfit,” she recalls. “So I posted on our Google group forum that I needed a suit that would fit me.”

Within minutes, Egan’s sisters-in-arms sprung into action, supplying her with a classic black Pea in the Pod suit-dress that was just right for the occasion.

“We’re all trendy people,” says 39-year-old freelance TV production designer Dayna D’Eletto of her neighbors, who range from makeup artists and jewelry designers to women’s magazine vets and p.r. gurus.

As an only child, D’Eletto never had the chance to share clothes with a sister. And as a commuter student at a city college, she missed out on the rite of having a roommate’s closet to raid. But now, living at Seward Park for the past five years, she’s making up for lost time: “Coming here was the first time I could do all this girl stuff,” she says.

When she needed a dress for a black-tie event, D’Eletto looked no further than her neighbor Egan’s closet: “She said, ‘Take whatever you want,’ ” recalls D’Eletto, who went home with a handful of high-end options, including a gorgeous red floor-length BCBG gown.

In turn, D’Eletto has opened her closet to fellow residents on at least 10 occasions: “My closet is totally open, as long as they can fit into my clothes.

“I even offered my wedding dress,” she says.

Then, after a thoughtful pause, she adds: “Well, except for my black J.Crew pixie pants and Longchamp tote bag because they’re practically glued to my body!”

Even kids have gotten into the act — Amelie (left) and Samara check out each other’s styles.Zandy Mangold

While all this free and easy closet sharing might seem unusual by NYC standards, it’s a safe bet the building’s original tenants would take pride in such communal spirit.

The Seward Park complex was built in the late 1950s by the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union.

“It was built for their workers and union members, so their workers would have adequate housing,” explains Karen, who has been a resident of Seward Park for the past 15 years.

“The way the complex is constructed [with playrooms, an outdoor park and community rooms] lends itself to communal living. And we’re carrying on that tradition of — not socialism, but a little socialism.

“It’s kind of like a kibbutz.”

There are always plenty of opportunities for windowshopping during a chance encounter around the building — and it’s not uncommon to give your neighbor a thorough up and down, mentally shopping while you ride the elevator.

“I’ll say, ‘Remember you were wearing this black top a couple of weeks ago?’ ” says Karen, who isn’t shy about following up on a favorite look.

“At some point, you find someone who’s your size and whose taste you like and you go back to that person.”

Even her daughter has gotten into the swapping act. When neighbor Dana Silber’s daughter, Libby, needed a dress for a chorus presentation, her 10-year-old, Samara, volunteered a cheery floral frock. “Seeing this give-and-take is a nice lesson she’s learning. I can’t imagine living anywhere else,” she says.

“If you send an e-mail to anyone in our universe here, someone is very willing to give it,” echoes Karen Rosenberg, a resident of 15 years who has lent out coats, her son’s tuxedo and even workout gloves to the group. “They have adorable clothes!”

Like many city parents, the 43-year-old events planner constantly struggles with whether her family should move out of the city for more space. “We always have that debate — do we stay or do we go?” she says. “But I don’t even think you’d see this in suburbia!”

Egan had the same conundrum.

“I was pretty active in the community — and within the last few years the clothes-swapping and sorority-type feel came to life,” she says.

So when she moved to the town of Pelham in Westchester three weeks ago, Egan liked her new neighbors well enough — but wondered if any of the women had a dress suit in her size.