The trouble is, they're not cheap. Even the items featured in those "get the look for less" layouts in magazines are only less when compared to the wares of Mr. Kors himself. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to go to Macy's and spend $150 on a single dress. Heck, I won't even spend $150 on three dresses. But the nature of this 1960s-inspired trend puts the bargain shopper in a uniquely fortuitous situation: with some effort and a little bit of moxie, you indeed can get the look for a fraction of what you'd pay at a department store or boutique. Yes, I'm talking about vintage.
Before you get all skeeved out at the idea of wearing a dress that someone has worn before you (because, let's face it, before you bought those fancy jeans you've got on, I'd be willing to bet that several other people tried to squeeze their respective, possibly sweaty and gross, behinds into them), allow me to make my case:
1. It's cheap. If you're braving the racks at an old-school thrift shop or Goodwill-type joint, you can expect to pay between $5 and $20 per garment. If you stick with vintage boutiques that curate their collections, you'll pay more for their expertise, but even then unless you're looking at vintage designer gear, you can expect to top out between $50 and $75.
2. Vintage is, by and large, extraordinarily well-made in relation to modern clothing. Think about all the times you've bought a dress at H&M and the base of the zipper has come unstitched after a couple of months (heck, forget about H&M - I once had the hem on a Marc Jacobs dress fall out completely after I'd worn it just three times!). Now think about a dress that is still solidly held together after 40 years. It's important to check the seams and the hems and the zippers, but if they seem sturdy, you should be golden - after all, if it was going to fall apart, it would have long ago.
3. While nothing is technically one of a kind, it might as well be. The odds that you'll see another gal strutting around in the same dress as you are so unfathomably low they might as well not exist. Not to mention, you really stand out - I have one red "wiggle dress" from the 1960s that gets me stopped on the street every time I wear it. And if there is any measure of sartorial satisfaction greater than getting to languorously reply, "This? It's vintage," when some girl has just been reduced to squeals over your outfit, I sure don't know what it is. Obnoxious, I know, but I challenge you not to do the same.
So, if I've successfully managed to convince you, then you're probably wondering about the process. There are lots of tips and tricks involved in vintage shopping. Here my five top rules:
1. Study the clothes in your closet beforehand to get an idea of what your size really looks like irrelative to numerical size. Sizing today is so far removed from sizing in 1960 that you simply can't go by numbers. I'm sorry to dispel popular myth, but while Marilyn Monroe may have worn a size 16 in 1950, she'd probably take a 10 today. I wear a 4 or 6 in modern clothes and have found some vintage 12s to be a tight fit. Even if this wasn't the case, you'll find many garments are missing their tags, making any vintage-to-modern calculations obsolete.
2. Patience is key. Be well-rested, well-fed, and in a good mood. You'll have lots to sift through, and it takes time.
3. Know about the fashion history of the era you're looking for. Technically, the Mad Men look is based more in the postwar styles of the late 1940s and 1950s - full skirts paired with tighter tops a la Dior's New Look, formfitting "wiggle dresses," high-waisted pencil skirts with blouses or sweaters, jackets with peplums. The early 1960s Jackie Kennedy influence is of course also present. You'll develop a keen eye over time, but in the beginning, you'll find the overweening racks more navigable if you focus on silhouette. You'll also benefit if you know what you're not looking for - your time will be much more wisely dedicated by skipping right over those gaudy floral maxidresses and candy-colored polyester disco-wear.
4. If something looks like it might fit, try it on. You just never know. Bring armloads of garments into the fitting room with you. In fact, I'll often wear something form-fitting like leggings and a tunic tank and try things on right there in the store to save time and effort.
5. Once you've determined that something fits, check it carefully. Split seams and fallen hems can be easily repaired if you don't mind paying for it (or if you're a decent seamstress yourself), but broken zippers, rotting fabric, stains, and tears are probably not worth the trouble. Ripped linings can go either way - if the garment doesn't really need a lining in the first place, you can tear the whole thing out, but if it does, it could be quite the onus to replace it.
As I'm sure you've figured out, vintage shopping is a lot more work that simply strolling into Lord & Taylor, but it's immensely more rewarding. Think of the rush you get when you find an incredible bargain: it's like that times ten, because not only have you gotten a great deal, you're entitled to a certain amount of style cred for rescuing a fabulous garment from an uncertain fate. I hope I've inspired some of you to see what's out there, and wish you the best of luck in your mission for Mad Men style!
~Renée
