it's a fine vintage

I'm going to talk about clothes and some of the memories attached there to, so you all might wanna check out, especially the guys. I don't mind babbling to myself on this one. But before you go? Can I just say that I got an email today for a film about fascia with live narration/commentary by Tom Myers. Two hours long. $50. Are you kidding me? The day I pay $50 to listen to a two hour lecture (even by the god of fascia) that doesn't even provide CEUs is the day I have more money to waste than I have now, that's for sure.

So what else was I doing this morning besides sputtering over Tom Myers gouging the massage therapists of the world? Spending hours looking at 70s era vintage clothing on Etsy. (It's dead at work; only Led Zep Girl, my boss, and I are even here and I am just biding time before I can leave to go get my nails done.) This whole enterprise brought up a lot of thoughts. First of all, there are apparently a fair number of people like me who are fans of the vintage Gunne Sax dresses, because people who have them to sell make it abundantly clear in the listing, so you'll look. And people with knockoffs say "Gunne Sax style" which, pshaw.

Secondly, I was thinking about how incredibly well-made those dresses are. The fabric and stitching and workmanship in the one I have is fabulous, which is why it can be worn 32 years after it was first sold. I'm thinking that 30 years from now, there's not going to be any 00s vintage, except maybe wedding gowns and the like, 'cause all this fucking cheap Chinese-made crap we have now, even at expensive price points, is gonna fall apart by then.

Thirdly, I was thinking that I really wish I had saved all my clothes from the 80s, because I could have sold it now, no question about it. I had two pairs of skinny jeans, sorta acid-washed but not *so* extreme, with zippers in the ankles, from winter 1987 that I can guarantee I could get about $50 for now if only I hadn't gotten rid of them. Also, shoes. I had shoes people would pay good money for now. I guess those people on Hoarders know something after all.

Fourth. All the listings of size seven Gunne Sax dresses on Etsy are very clear that these are tiny little dresses equivalent to about a modern size 2. I wore a size seven in 1978 and I was convinced I was too fat. Oh, yeah.

Finally, all those Gunne Sax dresses remind me of the time in the summer after 8th grade when my two best girlfriends and I took the T into downtown Boston for the first time without our parents to go shopping at Jordan Marsh and Filenes. We didn't *tell* our parents until after the fact, of course, because it's easier to do it and then get in big trouble than to ask permission and be denied. I remember seeing the displays of all those dark cotton floral day dresses, racks and racks, and thinking they were the most beautiful garments ever. And in my rich and full fantasy life, in which I was going to grow up, move to NYC, and write for Glamour magazine, I would wear one of those beautiful dresses to work every single day. Real life adulthood has been a comedown, lemme tell you.

xoxo