The Truth Behind Fashion
Right now I’m not loving retail fashion. This is a tight spot for a style writer. I have paced Maiden Lane, walked through Bloomingdales, sauntered through Hayes Valley and perused websites until my clicker finger calloused. Nothing new excites me. Sure there are lots of pretty things but nothing new. Nothing lights a fire under my custom-made Levi’s. The last thing I bought was a dress from Forever 21 which I hemmed into a tunic. I’ve written endlessly about tunics, pretty short-sleeved blouses and ballet flats. I’ve discussed belts and skinny jeans and the end of the boot cut. These are the things that populate the stores.
So to turn that frown upside down I am going to write about vintage fashion. It is the foundation of what we wear today. Vintage still rocks my world.
Amen, sister. Skinny jeans are for prepubescents and meth girls. I’ve always loved vintage, but I can never find my size. I’m too long-waisted and broad-shouldered for the tiny vintage woman. Vintage must mean before they put growth hormones in the meat.