vintage shopping
I have been suffering from a serious lack of black boots. Everybody knows that one of the basis for women’s wardrobe is a pair of black boots. And I had none.
On Saturday I forced myself out of bed and into the sunny east London weather. Having very little energy left from the week I decided to rummage through the vintage shops in my neighbourhood. And they are plenty.
Vintage shopping is an art form. I have a friend who masters it to the extreme and is hence always dressed in the funkiest outfits and carries the trendiest looks with hardly any strain to her bank account balance. I, however, am a novice in this domain.
After two hours of work I had made a purchase. Black boots. A cool pair of boots that cost me ¼ of the price of new ones. There would be very little risk that I would meet the same pair in another pair of feet in this city. Excellent.
But now I was all excited about my new achievement. I could not stop.
I took the pair of boots back home and restarted again. Now I knew what I was doing. And only 20minutes later I was the owner of a red or maroon pair of boots, dressy ones, with a high heel. Quality.
Legitimately I also needed a new handbag. Luckily at this point my dehydrated and hungry state and the extreme fatigue that was weighing on my eyelids forced me to go on a search of food.
That very same night, I decided to, against my better judgement (as evidently this did not help my already prevalent zombie state), to attend a party wearing my red boots. And indeed they were noticed.
On Saturday I forced myself out of bed and into the sunny east London weather. Having very little energy left from the week I decided to rummage through the vintage shops in my neighbourhood. And they are plenty.
Vintage shopping is an art form. I have a friend who masters it to the extreme and is hence always dressed in the funkiest outfits and carries the trendiest looks with hardly any strain to her bank account balance. I, however, am a novice in this domain.
After two hours of work I had made a purchase. Black boots. A cool pair of boots that cost me ¼ of the price of new ones. There would be very little risk that I would meet the same pair in another pair of feet in this city. Excellent.
But now I was all excited about my new achievement. I could not stop.
I took the pair of boots back home and restarted again. Now I knew what I was doing. And only 20minutes later I was the owner of a red or maroon pair of boots, dressy ones, with a high heel. Quality.
Legitimately I also needed a new handbag. Luckily at this point my dehydrated and hungry state and the extreme fatigue that was weighing on my eyelids forced me to go on a search of food.
That very same night, I decided to, against my better judgement (as evidently this did not help my already prevalent zombie state), to attend a party wearing my red boots. And indeed they were noticed.
And as the two pairs only cost me ½ of the price of a non-vintage pair I really had saved money and hence had another ½ to spend. Just guess where you will find me from next weekend?
posted by riikka @ 6:23 PM
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