My wardrobe takes pieces from the past. Whether I’ve thrifted the clothes or found them in the closets of my grandmother, mother, aunt, or great aunt, my wardrobe contains the various vintage pieces of the 1920s until the 1970s.
I have dresses embroidered with the flamboyance and splendor of the 1960s and dresses draped with the modesty and conservatism of the 1950s. I have faded vintage t-shirts from the 60s of restaurants my mother worked at when she was a teenager, hanging loose around my neck.
I wear layered turtle necks, vests, and jackets for a business casual attire from the 70s. I like high-waisted skirts and pants that flare out at the bottom with a kick of the 70s. I have hats that resemble the 1920s in red, white, grey, and black. Each hat has its own brim design and ribbon or floral ornament to distinctly set each hat apart from the rest. I have coats from the 1950s that easily match each hat. I have gowns from the 1920s. I have jewelry that encompasses each decade.
I frequently have thick mascara lashes, like Twiggy in the '60s. I have long brown hair and sometimes I wear it in curls like Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind or even a brunette Farrah Fawcett in Charlie's Angels. Sometimes I pull my hair up in an up-do like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. And sometimes I comb my hair straight and parted to the middle like Diane Keaton in the Woody Allen film, Annie Hall.
My style mimics that of my favorite actresses, icons, and role models; my mother and grandmother being two of them. Fashion repeats as rapidly and effortlessly as the seasons change. But for me, my style holds onto something that buying a new pair of heels just can’t ever be compared to. Each item of clothing I have has its own past, memories, personality, and spunk. Unless you purchase from a yard sale or a thrift store, you’re not buying a past, you're buying a piece of clothing or accessory that is an infant— something with a future that hasn't had the opportunity to be apart of the past. Each piece of clothing is inspiring. My entire wardrobe takes pieces from the past and when each piece is worn, it reaches out to the eyes of the observers and tells the stories of its history and the future it is creating as I walk down the sidewalks of New York City.