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Monday, 1 August 2011

Honey, I shrunk... my dress

I am an avid fan of vintage. I revel in the quirks, the novelty, the idiosyncracies that come with second-hand clothes. I like imagining who wore it first, and to what kind of event, and the night they might have had in those clothes. I don't even mind the pre-loved funk that often comes with vintage clothes, as a good soak (or two) with a decent non-bio detergent can usually get it out...

But the obvious down side of vintage is that you can't be quite so picky with the size and fit of the garment. Many a time, I've spied a show-stopper on the rails in a fave vintage haunt- whimsical frocks with nostalgic can't-be-copied prints, trousers so retro they suddenly feel au courant, skirts with embroidery and tassels and all sorts of frippery- only to be sorely disappointed that it just..won't... fit... me.

The too-small variety, I can do little about. But when I saw this number hanging on the rails in a store in Brighton, I fell hard. I fell for the crocheted detail around the neck, the slightly frumpy almost pilled look of the fabric, the boxy shape... and I bought it immediately despite the fact that it was several sizes too big.

I could take it to a professional to have it altered 'properly'. But I thought I'd give it a go myself. Wish me luck.


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