When I was a teenager, thrift stores (specifically the Salvation Army on West 46th Street) were where I bought virtually all of my clothing. I went through a phase where my school wardrobe alternated between vintage ball gowns (really) and pajamas (like, actual old man pajamas). Which was convenient, because vintage ball gowns and old man pajamas are two things that thrift stores do really, really well.
While I still haunt Goodwills and charity shops for furniture, I don’t really go thrift-store shopping for clothing all that often, because it takes wayyyyy too much focus and time, and focus and time are not things my children like me to have. When I was in LA the other week, though, I took myself on a little date – first to Body Electric Tattoo for some new piercings, then to the Village Idiot for rosé and cheese, and finally to Wasteland. You know, just to see.
On my last trip, I made what I’m going to go ahead and call the find of the century: a perfect (PERFECT) condition, floor-length Self Portrait gown. It was sort of hidden in a corner, tucked in between a few caftan-type dresses, which has to be the explanation for why no one found it before me, but now it’s officially the most beautiful item of clothing I own. It also looks like something Rose would have worn on the Titanic, so clearly it had to come on our cruise.
P.S. If you’re wondering what’s happening here, the answer is that Erin and I passed a nightclub that was completely empty, and clearly had to dance.
I especially enjoy that last pose. So elegant. So graceful.