Throughout my adventures in thrifting I’ve become accustomed to encountering articles of clothing I simply can’t identify. For instance, it’s not uncommon for an avid thrifter to reach into the two dollar bin at Goodwill only to pick out THE CUTEST belt…headband…wrap bracelet…necktie they’ve ever seen! When it comes down to it, a garment that no longer has a factory tag to label its’ specific function suddenly becomes fair game.
Of course, this fact is only heightened when the piece in question happens to be something that is handmade. In a case like this the true intention of the clothing in question can only be known by the artist who created it. Wow…who knew fashion could be so philosophical? Actually, I think it could be argued that fashion and philosophy have been closely related since the 1800’s when Hans Christian Andersen wrote a fine little fable entitled, “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” Much like the emperor in this tale there have been several times I’ve felt duped into thinking my wardrobe was something that it’s not, simply because others have told me so. I hear, “Wear those wide legged pants Rayna. “Glamour,” magazine says they’re the hottest thing on the runway this season." In reality the, "hippest," pants of the season make my ass look two sizes bigger but, "Who cares?! Glamour told me to wear them!"
Perhaps it's because of these frequent faux pas that I find myself constantly attracted to items of undefinable origin. Basically, I love the mystery of used clothing. When one really thinks about it thrifting is kind of like, “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” A person has the potential of creating a lot of excitement out of virtually nothing.
Honestly, I have no idea if that last sentence made any sense at all but I feel like this post is about embracing ambiguity so I’m going to run with it. As a result, I would now like to focus my attention on the pictures above. It just so happens that in these photographs I’m wearing an example of one of those pieces I’m not certain I’ve correctly identified.
Recently, I found myself in my local Ragstock store. While I was there, scavenging through the, “Recycled,” section, I came across what I defined as an incredibly cute top. It was handmade by some talented individual who lovingly cross stitched a large portion of it's front. I gasped at the workmanship that this item displayed and knew that it had to be mine. This was despite the fact that its’ overall length was a tad shorter than I generally like my shirts to be.
Upon looking at the pictures of this post, I think it’s fair to state that I made a solid six dollar purchase the day I picked up this item. Of course, as I continue to look at these photographs I find myself wondering if my new prize item is, in fact, an actual shirt intended for an adult. To begin my, “shirt,” has ties in the back that make it possible to cinch its overall shape. However, these ties are located rather high on this garment, making the overall cinching effect happen at a rather awkward place on the body. In addition, the delightful pockets that were included by the original artist are also placed in a position that is virtually unusable…at least by this blogger’s gibbon armed standards. I'll admit the thought has occurred to me that I may be wearing a piece that was originally designed to be a small child’s dress. At the very least I suspect I’m running around in some tween’s, “horrifying,” homemade birthday gift from Great Aunt Ada. I want to state that in either case, I don’t care. I just want to parade around in front of people and shout, “Hey, look how beautiful my new clothes are!” Wait…you can see them, right?
Shirt?: Thrifted (Handmade)
Wedges: Ettienne Aigner
Purse: (Purchased at the National Gallery Of Art in Washington, D.C.)
Belt: (Hand-me-down from Dad)
Sunglasses: Kate Spade