Went on a thrifting / pho adventure in Chinatown this weekend and stumbled upon a festival that was going down for the Chinese new year (that's how I met my little friend here). I picked up this 1960s, retina-burning orange coat in Orange Country over the holidays. It was originally down to my calves, but luckily my mother is a cracker-jack seamstress, and together we hemmed it to the perfect length. It's getting rarer and rarer that you find something in a thrift / vintage store that wouldn't be perfect if it were juuuuuust a little shorter / larger / what have you. I usually factor in the cost of tailoring when deciding whether or not to buy something that's not...quite...there. It's always worth it, though. I get so many compliments on this coat. At the bus stop the other day, a woman turned to me and said "Girl, your shit's clean as hell" and then offered me a joint.
Isn't fashion wonderful?
2 comments:
"At the bus stop the other day, a woman turned to me and said "Girl, your shit's clean as hell" and then offered me a joint." <-- nice.
I like your friend; somehow you guys go together really well.
Thanks! We're getting our nails done together this week : P
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