4. What Vintage Shopping Taught Me About My Style
Come with me to the Manhattan Vintage Show plus some tips!
Last Sunday I made a rare weekend trip into the city to visit the Manhattan Vintage Show with a college friend. Fashion is a topic that for over a decade has connected the two of us — we’re often swapping links or asking for buying advice (She was the one I texted when I once found a Celiné bag for $300 at Buffalo exchange). Not everyone can handle the rigors of a full afternoon of shopping, but I knew she was up for the task.
With a pre-show cappuccino to boost our energy and our $20 tickets secured, we walked into the cavernous space in Flatiron to find ourselves instantly absorbed into the hum of shoppers thumbing through racks of vintage Dior and Issey Miyake, sequin jackets, and psychedelic print dresses.
I’ve been a secondhand consumer since my teens. When I was in high school, I used to dig through racks of sweat-scented polyester dresses on Telegraph ave. and beg my mom to take me to Jeremey’s (RIP), a department store in San Francisco where you could find discounted designer goods. It’s where I saved up my money from working at a coffee shop to buy the kind of things that would prove to be formative purchases in my pursuit of personal style: platform Prada heels (here), a kelly green 3.1 Phillip Lim top (here), an Alexander Wang camera bag (here).
The surge of serotonin that comes from the discovery of something unexpected is the same one that pulled me to the vintage show. It can take a lot of time sorting through meh stuff to finally be rewarded with something great, but when it happens, it’s how I imagine an intramural soccer team must feel about cinching the championship. The stakes are low, but you still feel on top of the world.
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Growing up, what I came to love about buying second hand, vintage, or even just seasonal discounted merchandise was that it gave me a clearer sense of the way I wanted to dress. Instead of being limited to what was in Bebe or Abercrombie that season, I sifted through decades of styles, honing a sense of what worked for my body and drew my attention. It allowed me to step away from whatever was “in,” and experiment within eras in addition to silhouettes and materials.
It was also a way to directly connect to the music and movies I was consuming. During my middle school pop-punk era, I would comb the men’s section for studded belts or cheap vintage ties to style with a white tank. When my sister turned me on to Bob Dylan, suddenly I was wearing floral shift dresses from the ‘60s to school dances. As I came to uncover new pieces of who I was, having the space to experiment and the curiosity to discover alternative versions of myself, ultimately sharpened my point of view. Eventually, I was no longer adopting the style of other eras, but was absorbing all sorts of references into my own style vernacular.
Walking into the fair, I saw that ability to transcend fashion trends reflected in the vintage sellers and faithful attendees of the show. Their appreciation for kooky clothes always comes through, and they have this knack to pull off floor-length coats or a fringed vest without crossing into dreaded costumey territory.
I managed to run into Lynn Yager who wandered over to the booth of one of my favorite vendors Vivian R-Hill ( the owner of a Vivienne Westwood jacket I came so close to buying), As my friend was trying on an oversized fur coat from the ‘80s. Lynn began eyeing a few of the coats herself, exclaiming that she was done with puffy coats and was ready for a vintage fur. You heard it here first — puffers are dead!
Vintage sourcers and stylists are a group I’ve also found myself drawn to for inspiration on Instagram. A few weeks ago at a dinner for The Real Real, I was seated next to Anna of Club Vintage and her friend Lizzy (who arrived one of the best dressed people of the night in a floral two-piece set). The way they both share their style online gives me this sense of joy over how fun fashion (and the art of discovery) can be.
Now onto the shopping meat and potatoes…
When I’m vintage shopping, I’ve had to implement a few overarching rules over the years to protect myself from coming home with something that for whatever myriad of reasons sits in my closet unworn. I wanted to share a few of the questions I ask when I’m vintage shopping in case it helps you out too.
How Does It Fit?
While I’ve been known to gamble on The Real Real or Depop, it comes with the knowledge that odds are probably not in my favor. With vintage especially, sizing means nada. Even if I was meticulous enough to keep my measurments on hand (hint: I’m not) there's no knowing exactly how something will fit until you try it on, and break out a few dressing room dance moves. Squatting in pants shouldn’t feel like they’re on the verge of splitting down the center seam. Your arms should make it all the way above your head. If it’s too small, it’s a fools errand. If it’s too big, I’m always willing to get something tailored — a worn-in pair of vintage Levi’s look even better when I’ve had them adjusted to hang just right on my body.
On Sunday I was drawn to a crochet coverup and a floral dress from the ‘40s with fluttery sleeves, both from One Vintage. I have an inexplicable pull towards sailor-inspired flap collars and drop-waisted dresses. But, nothing I tried on felt quite right — the sizing was off, it was almost me but not quite… it was ok to say no.
Is It Lust Or Love?
At the vintage show there were plenty of booths where I found myself stunned by beautiful Alaia, unexpected Issey Miyake, and envisioning the ladies-who-lunch version of myself who would wear a Saint Laurent jacket. The reality though, is that there is a difference between loving something and having it be right for you. Objectively, I could appreciate the beauty of something and still know that based on my personal wardrobe and the way that I dress day to day, it wouldn’t make sense.
Determining the difference between the short-term high of lusting over something amazing and the long-term enjoyment of something I’ll wear time and again has saved me on more than one occasion.
Am I Really Going To Wear It?
Early on in my vintage shopping journey, I’d spot a designer item sitting on the rack and get this sort of little panic — it was originally expensive, it’s fancy, it’s way discounted, I need it. Having come home with something truly random from the likes of Celine or Givenchy one too many times, I finally started to address my internal drive.
Why the hell was I feeling a tiny little creep of panic urging me to buy something that ultimately I didn’t really want? In the same way that sales can push you to pick something up simply because of a good deal, the scarcity (it’s the only one!) of vintage along with what are sometimes exceptional prices can push you to panic buy.
My strategy has been to slow down. To leave a piece I’m flip-flopping over on the rack and to continue my shopping trip. If I find myself thinking about it still at the end of my allotted store time, I’ll come back to it, but with a critical mind: how the hell do I actually plan on wearing it?
Does It Delight?
Although arriving at a vintage store with a plan of exactly what you’re looking for can help to cut down the overwhelming search process, let yourself be open to surprises. The eclectic collections might mean you arrive to find the softest vintage tee and leave with a sequin-embellished vest instead. Let the clothes speak to you, and leave space to discover something new!
I recently went down an Ebay rabbit hole on vintage intaglio rings, when gemstones are carved with a unique design. At the fair, like a moth to a flame, one of my first destinations was the antique jewelry case where I found a moonstone ring carved with the face of the moon on it. It wasn’t anything I expected to find, but I mean, COME ON! Sadly, it was too small. But, in its honor, here’s an OG (as in 3rd-4th century) ring I love. Here's a new ring from one of my favorite jewelry brands, Prounis. Here and here are a few under-$100 options I like too!
Ultimately, I’m sad to report that despite spending 5 hours picking through racks and carefully wiggling myself into any number of clothing items, I left the fair without having made any purchases. But, I don’t call that defeat — the experience was plenty enough for me. Luckily enough for my friend, she left with a coat and a fringe-hemmed purple Pucci dress.
As a consolation prize, I stopped by Eataly on my way to the subway. I picked up a loaf of bread and a package of biscottis and carried my carbs home, empty-handed no more.