A bit of a Rant

So yesterday I went a-vintaging (for some odd reason the temptation to write hi ho hi ho just crossed my mind). I did quite a cross section from a little church thrift shop to one of the most expensive shops in Toronto located in the Yorkville neighborhood.

I cannot tell you how utterly sad going hunting can be sometimes. I buy the majority of my stock through dealers and collectors that I know and have developed relationships with over the years. This makes me spoiled in that they know what I am looking for and that I am a nut on condition. I pay more doing it this way but the end result is better stock and clothes I love (and hopefully you will as well, though I am starting to wonder these days if sales are any indication)

Yesterday I went through hundreds and hundreds of racks of crap. Mid-eighties cheap garbage crap. Sometimes I fear for the future of vintage when I see what is in the stores these days. And yes I realize that there is a greater awareness of vintage and yes I realize that there are more people both buying and selling, but the fact remains that our modern culture is, for the most part, churning out absolute crap in the form of clothes on a daily basis all across our planet.

I think the worst of it was the super expensive place I went. I am not going to name a name but can I tell you that I saw an unmarked dress from the early 60's, cute but not spectacular, priced at $850 and it had underarm stains. I literally shook my head and looked twice to make sure my eyes where not fooling me. I found 4 other dresses, all in that price range or higher, that had seams loose or threads hanging or the hook and eye missing, etc, etc.

This just makes me sad.

It sends the wrong message to buyers. Yes, vintage can have flaws and yes sometimes its still so fabulous you have to work with it but if I had a shee shee shop selling dresses to celebrities and society people that are for the most part over the $1000 mark, you can bet your boots they would be as perfect as possible. And why pray tell are these people buying stock like that? I just don't get it.

So I came home in a bit of a funk and ranted through text to My Guy (he is traveling) and then went and sat in the middle of my studio and looked at all my pretty frocks and felt marginally better. At least I can control my own little portion of the vintage world and keep it as fabulous as I can. Right?