In my teens, I became the owner of a rather particular waistcoat. It had belonged to my great grandfather. It has a wool front, and satin back. The buttons are the bit I like the most – and it is still in my wardrobe, even if it is really too big for me to wear.
I’m not a huge clothes person. I’d better say that at the start. I’m not going to tell you that I have loads of vintage items, because I really don’t. There is something of the ‘got to be up to date NOW!’ of fashion that I recoil from.
So why think about second-hand clothes? Because there is something special about them. Like trying on a wardrobe item for a theatre show, that you know has been worn by others before you – and will be worn by others after you. The history is part of the appeal.
I performed a peculiar form of rebellion in my teens. I decided to look more like someone from a Victorian or Edwardian period – at least in part. (I think the main influence was the Anne of Green Gables mini series, but I certainly had a much-loved blouse with leg of mutton sleeves, rather as the Anne characters wore.)
So round about the time that I discovered the joys of shopping in Oxford, I also discovered second-hand clothes shops. I bought a dark-green greatcoat that I wore and wore. Â A black felt cloche hat (that was more to do with watching Peter Wimsey on TV, I suspect), even though it didn’t really fit the shape of my head.
Later, at university, I discovered the delights of second-hand velvet jackets – although the fit I found meant you couldn’t move your arms much. As long as you could be around others, and avoid hailing a cab or making sudden dramatic gestures, you were fine.
Clothing is one of those eco areas that I am coming to later on. I don’t tend to buy many clothes, and I was schooled by my mother to look for better quality material, so that ‘so cheap you can throw it away!’ movement mostly passed me by.
I realise it is very trendy to buy vintage. In fact, trying to sell genuinely vintage clothes can be tricky, when clothes shops are full of them. So should I be looking to buy what’s already there – or buy better of what’s new?
Some of my favourite clothes have been second-hand ones – but then there is that aching moment if they don’t fit, or develop holes, and you can’t genuinely replace them, because there’s nothing like that available now.
I am trying to contemplate fabric in a different way for the future. Â I’ve enjoyed reading about using second-hand fabric for craft projects – that appeals to me out of frugality, and the general joy of second-hand shops anyway.
I’m looking at where I might make eco choices where I do buy new – like whether to buy fabric made from something like bamboo rather than cotton, for replacing bed linen. (It would be good to see what the feel is like first.)
I have also looked at where items can be repaired, rather than replaced, with somewhat variable success. Maybe I need to hone my sewing skills some more, and finally get round to learning some more mending techniques.
When they called it the rag trade, how long did they plan for clothes to be worn, anyhow?