|This reminds me of my plaid jumper. |
This painting available for purchase
from Studio Beerhorst.
Upon graduating high school and entering the fine arts milieu, I threw off the shroud of jeans and sweatshirt ubiquity, no longer having to guard against the deprecating looks of my peers. In music school, talent garnered respect, and, as my teacher stated, "When God handed out talent, he gave you an extra helping." So I went bold, though it was conservative bold. And that meant vintage dresses.
Nearing a decade post-college, as I waited to be seated that Sunday morning, I felt self-conscious in my tartan jumper. Within the week, I returned it to my mom; it hangs in her spare closet still. Today, while I only faintly genuflect to fashion (I still won't wear opposing plaids), neither am I notable in any way. This doesn't keep me from browsing the lovely vintage dresses on Etsy and "favoriting" an especially fine specimen. To be young again, to be a student again, to dare to wear vintage dresses again!
Last week as I sat in church, I couldn't help noticing the elderly woman in an adjacent pew, sporting a tartan plaid Pendleton two-piece outfit, a throwback to a decade when things were simpler. Then I knew: When I am old, I shall wear vintage. Only then, the clothes will have aged with me.