Yesterday, which
will be day before yesterday by the time I post it, but will still be yesterday
for my American friends, that is, if you read this the day I post it… that is
to say, on Saturday, I drove to the city
with Chez. This was no ordinary
occurrence, as I was driving on the left side of the road and we were going to
a … wait for it… vintage clothing market.
Yes, friends, I,
Little Miss Sunshine, was destined for hipster heaven. (Sorry for all the commas.) While not claiming hipsterdom myself, I have
been known to associate with hipsters, and have even considered liking owls and
square rimmed glasses. Why, you ask, if
I didn't even own a beach comber bicycle in baby blue, was I going to a vintage
clothing market. So glad you asked. (If you hadn't asked, I would have told you
anyway.)
My dear friend Cath
is a purveyor of vintage fashion, aka, she has the gift of op shopping and
sells her fab finds on etsy. (Young Pilgrims Vintage, check it out!) Not
only is she a finder of fashion, she is also studying to become a high school
teacher. Because of all these things and
recently moving, and it being winter, she had a cold and couldn't go to the
market, so she outsourced her labor. She
was going to hire team USA, but SG had to work a shift at the restaurant so we
were team United States of Australia and Chez came. Of the three of us, any combination would
have been a winner. SG is highly
qualified because she's a market guru, Cherie because she has funky semi
vintage hippy fashion sense, and me because I can fake almost anything.
Since I was going as
an undercover hipster, I searched my closet for something appropriate to
wear. No such luck. I think I sent my red lipstick and my fake
square glasses home with Mom, thinking I wouldn't need them. Rookie mistake, never send dress up materials
or party dresses home with your Mom when you're being a church intern in
Australia! It couldn't be helped,
so I settled for the next best disguise
- independent small business owner.
Think skinny jeans, navy stripe top under a black cotton blazer with a
chunky necklace and cranberry red nail polish.
We made it to the
market, lugged our tubs of clothing into the hotel, and started setting up our
things while sizing up the competition.
Wooden cutting board man across the aisle, no competition. Trendy girls next door who were cleaning out
their closets, maybe a little but their prices were higher. Huge stall across the aisle with the cheap
prices, absolutely. Cath sent us
everything we needed, including perfect hipster bunting to hang on the wall
behind the stall.
Once we were checked
in with the organizer and all set up, we waited for customers. And they came. Old women in feathery hats, hipster teenagers
out for a Saturday afternoon in the city, vintage devotees wearing wide
headbands and high waisted pants, we had them all. They browsed and gushed over 50s print
sundresses and purple velour leggings. I
just smiled and nodded.
By the end of the
day, we'd sold a few pieces and met some fun people, including Kate, the girl
with high waisted demin shorts with shooting stars that she was wearing
over patterned tights. She worked with
inner city kids and did fashion on the side, but said she was a Christian and
remarked that it was good to meet other Christians because sometimes it seems
like you're the only one.
We packed up the
leftover clothes and lugged them out through the afternoon drizzle to the
car. With Chez giving directions, and me
at the wheel, we inched our way through city traffic until it opened up and we
could sail down the freeway at 100.
(That's 100 kilometers per
hour.) Thus ended my foray into the
urban hipster vintage scene.
Little Miss Sunshine
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