Vintage Vantage Point: Solving the Skirt
Sometimes vintage isn't about finding the perfect fitted piece.
Sometimes you find a piece and have absolutely no idea how you're going to style it.
Or the story you attached to it changes.
This skirt was one of those pieces.
The moment I saw it, I loved it.
Or at least, I WANTED to love it. But it was hard to love it on my body.
I can't say it sat patiently in my closet. It occasionally came out, was tried on, frowned at, and went right back on the hanger.
And honestly, I'd imagined I'd be at a different weight when I finally wore it.
But this week, it finally clicked.
A black bodysuit gave it a clean foundation.
Then I turned a denim shirt dress into a duster instead of wearing it as a dress.
A bright blue Kate Spade belt I'd scavenged from a bin months ago—another vintage find I'd fallen for without knowing what I'd ever do with her—suddenly became the punctuation the outfit needed.
The layered vintage necklace I found while antiquing in Richmond kept everything in the same blue family, and the denim-and-cork platform sandals carried that easy summer feeling all the way through.
At 5'7", and in a season where I'm feeling a little fluffier than I'd like, I was surprised by how comfortable, balanced, and like myself the outfit felt.
The photos tell another familiar story.
Some angles flatter the outfit and the wearer of said outfit.
Some land completely flat. 🐳
Catch a woman in a split second of bad posture and let it wreak havoc on her self-esteem?
No.
That's photography—not failure.
It's funny how quickly our minds latch onto the one picture we don't like instead of the five that turned out just fine.
Selecting narratives. How I’ve had to struggle with that even internally.
For me styling is less about perfection than experimentation. It’s about creativity. It’s about fun. It’s about daring.
Sometimes the best vintage pieces ask for patience before they reveal how they want to be worn.
This one finally did. Sometimes vintage isn't about finding the perfect fitted piece.
Sometimes you find a piece and have absolutely no idea how you're going to style it.
Or the story you attached to it changes.
This skirt was one of those pieces.
The moment I saw it, I loved it.
Or at least, I wanted to love it.
It was much harder to love it on my body.
I can't say it sat patiently in my closet. It came out from time to time, was tried on, frowned at, and went right back on the hanger.
Honestly, I'd imagined I'd be at a different weight when I finally wore it.
But this week, something clicked.
A black bodysuit gave it a clean foundation.
Then I turned a denim shirt dress into a duster instead of wearing it as a dress.
A bright blue Kate Spade belt I'd scavenged from a bin months ago—another vintage find I'd fallen for without knowing what I'd ever do with her—suddenly became the punctuation the outfit needed.
The layered vintage necklace I found while antiquing in Richmond kept everything in the same blue family, and the denim-and-cork platform sandals carried that easy summer feeling all the way through.
At 5'7", and in a season where I'm feeling a little fluffier than I'd like, I was surprised by how comfortable, balanced, and like myself the outfit felt.
The photos told another familiar story.
Some angles flatter the outfit—and the woman wearing it.
Some land completely flat. 🐳
Catch a woman in a split second of bad posture and let it wreak havoc on her self-esteem?
No.
That's photography, not failure.
It's funny how quickly our minds latch onto the one picture we don't like instead of the five that turned out just fine.
We're remarkably good at selecting narratives.
I've had to work on that—especially the ones I tell myself.
For me, styling is less about perfection than experimentation. It's about creativity. It's about play. It's about daring.
Sometimes the best vintage pieces ask for patience before they reveal how they want to be worn.
This one finally did.
And what it was asking for wasn't a smaller waist.
It was asking me, very politely, for a little confidence.
Yes, I'm carrying a little more softness than I'd like right now.
Nine months ago, I was simply trying to recover. Now I'm looking forward to hiking, biking, yoga, and feeling strong again.
Bodies have seasons.
Mine tells the story of raising two teenagers, surviving some hard years, learning who I am, and beginning to enjoy this next chapter.
I'm not a little girl anymore.
I'm a woman in her fifties.
A little denim.
A little rock-and-roll swagger.
A little confidence.
That's what this outfit was missing all along.
Not a different body.
Just the willingness to wear it.
I'm a woman with a life. Who enjoys a little too much wine and carbs … maybe more often than recommended. 🍷🍰🤘
Not a product.
And it was asking me nicely for some confidence.
Yes, I’m at my fluffy weight. It was nine months of recovering and I’ve just finally gotten to the point that hiking and biking are appealing. And I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a woman, over 50, with two teenagers, whose been through the wringer and has graduated from the school of hard knocks. So a little denim, a little rock and roll swagger, is required. I’m a woman with a life, not a product.
