With the coming change of seasons, I think about buying some new clothes, or some new old clothes. My husband recently asked why I’ve fallen away from my regular visits to the local sprawling outlet mall in pursuit of great deals on brand name clothing.
Although I wish I could say it has been by purposeful design with a lofty intent to be green and spare impact on the planet, honestly, I have become intrigued with vintage clothing. I was hooked from my first purchase of a delightful upcycled skirt, lovingly handcrafted by a talented seamstress from scraps of fabric from old knitted garments. When I wear that skirt, it swishes with not only a terrific flowing design but also from the good vibrations of every owner of every fragment. I smile and know those folks are with me, whoever they are.
Now, I scour vintage shops with a careful subjective method. First, the pattern of the cloth must whisper an invitation and then, as important as the fit of the garment, is the feeling it transfers from its previous owner—a mini magical quest so to speak. Online shopping for vintage clothing requires greater skill and should be practiced only after some initial direct practice. I recently purchased two skirts from a nice woman in Hungary. I was overjoyed when the vibrations I picked up from her photos rang true, with one skirt sweeping me around in dizzy, happy circles and the other embracing me in a cozy hug, both just as I imagined—I can’t wait to wear these feelings.