I grew up shopping in thrift stores (and garage sales) out of necessity. My mom loves to tell the story of the first time I went to a store that sold new clothes. Upon seeing that one item was available in a variety of sizes all lined up on the same rack, I exclaimed excitedly "Look! They have more than one!" Once my family was financially secure enough that buying new clothes became a possibility, my mom still refused to do so and I felt guilty for coveting the clothes I would see in store windows and magazines. When I finally decided that I didn't care what she thought, I could buy new clothes if I wanted to, I discovered that I didn't like the majority of what I saw: a lot of cheaply made, plain, dull clothes in drab colors made from synthetic materials. They didn't have the individual personality of the clothes that I found at the thrift store or made for myself (I've been experimenting with making my own clothes since I was five).


Around the time I started high school I discovered a whole new kind of store. A store that sold unique clothing that was individual and sentimental in style. It seamed to be vintage inspired with special attention to detail. These clothes were exactly what I had always known fashion could be. Each piece told a story: the favorite pair of jeans the warmest coziest cashmere sweaty, the sleek raincoat that you bought in an especially bright color to keep away those rainy day blues. What's more, the decor in the store remained me of my own home. It was carefree yet beautiful: an old beat up leather chair with a recovered velvet cushion, a few balls of hand-dyed yarn hanging on a painted coat hook, a wooden chair wrapped in various strips of calico print cotton. Walking through this store felt like walking through my own mind. I not only loved each and every piece, I felt as if I could have conceived and created each one. It was that personal. The store I'm describing is, of course, Anthropologie.


My wardrobe now consists of clothes from a variety of sources. I'd estimate that its about 50% thrift store and vintage finds, 35% new clothes that are a bit off-beat and unique (Anthropologie, Urban Outfitters, Forever 21 and Delia's mostly) and 15% homemade and or altered. I've recently become a knitting addict, so the homemade percentile is growing daily. My plan is to eventually, finances permitting, filter out almost all of the generic stuff: plain tee shirts, boring black skirts, dull cardigans so that every piece is individual and adored. That is my fashion dream. Until next time.

Love. Evolve.
Celeste