When I put on a piece of clothing, I'm not thinking simply about how it'll look. I'm thinking about how it feels and what it means. There is always a purpose. For me, getting dressed is a performance. I am thinking about color, comfort, shape, fabric type and where it came from, in relation to my thoughts and who I want to be that day.
The days I feel most confident, I dress eccentrically. When I'm 90, I want to dress with the same uninhibited integrity as I do at 20. I want to still be wearing some of the things I do now, some of the things my grandmothers wore. Fabric isn't immortal of course, but it should be used and celebrated for as long as possible. My wardrobe is filled with vintage/thrift pieces for many reasons - they are sustainable, economical, unique and oftentimes the fabric is of higher, longer-lasting quality. However, the most exciting thing is that through each piece, I am a kind of time traveler. If I don't know where something came from, I imagine it, fabricating the fabric's history so that I can honor it with sincerity, and feel the memories even if I don't know them specifically. When I do know the memories, the experience is extremely meaningful. I want to do the fabric justice because it holds pieces of someone whose story I have become a part of.
The jeans, jacket, bag, and headband pictured above are all vintage. I found the jacket and matching bag in Montreal at a boutique called "e," which sells reworked vintage, meaning the fabric is vintage but was more recently sewn. The matching set spoke to me because it reminded me distinctly of my grandmother, Omi, who loved bright orange and yellows. The headband is a hand-sewn ribbon of hers.
The clothing we wear is a marker of who we are. Even if you only wear tee shirts, I think it's important to harness a kind of appreciation for the fabric that houses your body and witnesses every memory you make.