A combination more typical, American and comfortable than PB and J is women and clothes. And for the past two years it’s been all about vintage clothes.
And finding this combination of estrogen and antique in my backyard was a welcome surprise today. But you have to follow the clues to find the hidden treasures and fellow hunters here.
Take the Urban Snob’s page on Facebook, it lead me to an ad for an open house sale by Pampered Peacock Vintage. And I mean open house in the most literal sense.
Tucked away in a narrow and creepy side street, Pampered Peacock Vintage is everything the name says it is. As soon as you walk through the brightly painted Tiffany Blue door you’re greeted by the smells of Chloe and Channel No. 5. The walls are peachy-brown, with gold-accented lighting. It’s warm, eclectic and extremely stylish without trying.
Six pair of eyes look up from their jewel encrusted smartphones long enough to give a quick evaluation of the “new comer.” I obviously stumbled upon a tight-knit and cautious vintage fashion community.
I searched the eyes, finding not one familiar pair, except for the woman who opened the door for me. The owner, Cachet. I’ve met her before during my frequent kickboxing workouts. I never took the time to actually talk to her, judging her before I met her.
Thinking of my pre-judgement, I quickly smile and say a bright: “Hello.”
She quickly evaluates my attire, vintage Romantic-Equestrian, and gives me the “I remember you, but I don’t know if I like you” hug. But still, it’s a welcome and she remains hospitable by asking if I’d like Naughty Cider.
I agree, take the glass, sip and begin to carefully peruse the vintage goods. Hello, polyester, rayon and ultra-suede! The familiars I find every week in my favorite thrift stores.
The clothes were selected carefully. There’s not stitch out of place or trace of a stain. The clothes range from early 40s to late 70s, and all inspire the over-priced and cheaply made clothes you find everywhere.
This vintage lover is a kindred spirit, as well as her friends. Each were clothed, colored and coiffed in vintage refinery. They’re a pleasant surprise. I’ve obviously stumbled upon a secret vintage community. And it makes me happy.
But my time with this tight-nit and well-dressed phenoms was short lived. Responsibilities and the real world need to be dealt with. But, just as I found the cookie crumbs that lead me to this community, I know that it will lead me back to them. I’ll let you know what I find.
Parsimony's Closet 