"Dépot vente épouvante"

A few weeks ago, I headed to the alliterating rue Tiquetonne in the 2ème arrondissement for what turned out to be a duo of cavernous shops brimming with clothes organized by style, texture, and color. The downcycled silk shirts at Episode really tempted me: for 12 to 20 euros, one could acquire a longsleeved or sleeveless silk shirt in any color of the rainbow and its subtle variations. I may return there in search of the perfect one for Rosalie and Clara for next summer.

The mecca of vintage, Kiliwatch, was in fact disappointing because way overpriced. Once your sense of organization is in place, both Episode and Kiliwatch send one down a sensorial maze, in which one encounters rows of Austrian felted wool jackets (if I ever do get cold, these jackets at 40 euros a pop might be the solution), oversized Norwegian wool sweaters, leather boots, bags, coats and jackets (tried on yet another suede coat that made me feel very chic, but where besides Paris would I ever wear such a thing?), polyester print dresses that remind me of how horrible clothes really were in the 1980s. A tweed skirt with a Missoniesque wavelike weave made in London no less (back when labels were that precise) and a metal buckle in the middle of the waist was truly a classic – but not for me now.
I am beginning to wonder whether young people can pull off old clothes better than old people who should be wearing new clothes that then begin their long journey into the recycling loop. I felt strangely out of place in these shops where the average age was half mine.

At Hippie Market, rue de Turbigo, I was very tempted by an Irish tweed jacket, with the label "Made in Ireland" sewn onto the lining. Once again, when and where would I wear such a jacket?

The half my age generation, feeling a bit lost and forgotten perhaps, seeking to clothe themselves in discarded oversized sweaters and fabrics of the past that envelop them and protect them from a harsh present can pull off what on me looks more like a costume. Texture: I was never made so aware of the texture of the fabric until yesterday, in these emporia that organize their clothes according to their fabric content. Which leads me to the Elle magazine dating from 1966 I picked up at a flea market in Delft over the weekend.

What jumps out in this issue are its ads promoting new synthetic fabrics that were innovative at the time: Orlon, lycra, crylor, corduroy known as “velour cotelé,” all these fabrics were new back then, making clothes lighter and more flexible.

But the image that stood out the most was the one of a suit whose sleeves stopped just above the wrist. The tweed jacket with the fur collar that I had tried on chez Gilda had a similar shorter sleeve, perhaps proof of its authentic vintage status…