Brightside Entry 30: Vintage Clothing

This seemed like the right note to end this challenge on (yes, February was a very, very quick month--literally), as today I opened up a WinaWonders store page on Facebook (as it seems the more practical choice).

Vintage clothing, vintage clothing. What is it about vintage clothing? Lots of people (like my parents) don't understand the appeal--why wear clothes that have been someone else's, they always ask? Well. Let me explain.

I think this might say a lot about how I view relationships, but when I think about it--well, what doesn't so what the hell. I love buying things from thrift shops and ukay-ukays first and foremost because the clothing has a sense of history. If you ask me, I don't really care about first times--they're memorable I suppose but they never last. How many of us still have our first shirts? I'm betting none. I like thinking about where things end up and the things that I've gotten from thrift shops that I keep end with me while those that I sell are found new partners or new homes.

Another reason is that the clothing is almost always unique; I stopped buying things in Greenhills because I bought this floral top once and I went to school the next day and everyone had exactly the same thing. I don't ever wear that shirt now. It's also something I'll never sell because who would need or want something that everyone else already has?

Lastly, there are just more things in the thrift shops and ukay-ukays that appeal to me. Maybe it's because I like very 60s-70s inspired things and get peeved when they're badly made (as with a lot of department store clothing that tries to emulate the same appeal) or because a lot of those things don't just look like they were around in the 60s or 70s but were actually there, being used by the people of that time.

And today, as I put up the blogsale and made even more sales (thank you to everyone who bought--to those who haven't please do; the photos are up here and on the Facebook Page; please like it if you can) I was very happy--yes to make money (who doesn't love that) but also to know that these beautiful clothes I spent digging through stacks of clothing for are going to people who will love them and care for them.

It's like I told my friend (whom I have taken to calling Sulky Ron in my mind, at least): vintage clothes are like the ideal boyfriend--they had a life before you so they know how to treat a woman; they won't cling too tight but will have failed enough to know not to take for granted.