Sometimes I look in the mirror and am not sure who I see. Am I the same person who has spent decades as the confident owner of my own small business? The person who ran from estate sale to seamstress to dry cleaner to vintage show to storage and everywhere in between? The model for my fashions? The person who could carry 20 vintage coats at once?
Who is the person in the mirror?
Living with psoriatic arthritis, a chronic condition that can be as unpredictable as it is debilitating, has forced me to confront the darkest corners of my own self-perception. Some days I find it hard to put my clothes on. Some days I find it hard to get out of bed. I sometimes feel down—very down—which doesn’t help.
Psoriasis, the skin component of psoriatic disease, became my uninvited guest in 1994. It would flare up with my own physical, mental and emotional stress. At that time I tried every topical treatment available, and nothing worked as well as day-to-day peace and calm.
Soon after, in 1999, I started my vintage fashion business, denisebrain. A professional French horn player and principal horn of the Spokane Symphony, I felt I had to step away from that position to lower my stress level, which was stuck in high gear.
This was in about 2010, when I had “just” a bit of psoriasis on my leg and scalp, but no arthritis.
I looked around for what I could do that felt fulfilling, easeful, joyful and creative, and vintage fashion came to mind. I had always loved wearing and collecting older clothing. It was fun to hunt down and I was immediately delighted in offering it to others through the new-fangled platform called eBay. I loved learning all I could about fashion and fabric history. I loved writing about it. I loved meeting the people who had worn the clothing when it was new. I loved learning about business. Heck, I even loved standing with customers’ packages in line at the post office!
My itchy, inflamed skin mostly settled down, and I felt I had orchestrated a remission from the autoimmune disease. In the meantime, I was still playing in the symphony now and then, as an extra or substitute member of the horn section. It was wonderful to be part of the music with less stress, and seeing my friends was so good for me.
Playing horn in the Spokane Symphony
Then, at a concert in 2014, I was stepping up on to the highest riser on stage, where the horn section sits, and I fell. Instinctively cradling my horn, my back took the brunt of the fall, as I landed on the corner of the next riser down. Fortunately I only hurt myself and didn’t take out a bassoonist or two! My instrument was unscathed, and I played the last piece of the concert, but by the time it was over I had to be taken to the emergency room of the nearest hospital.
A few months later, I woke up with numbness in my arms and legs, and extreme pain and fatigue. I set up an appointment with my doctor and discovered that I had psoriatic arthritis, most likely triggered by the fall on stage.
Nothing has been quite the same since. I have tried many different treatments, consulted every imaginable type of doctor/healer and had a number of surgeries on painful (a knee, a shoulder), stuck (a finger), or even destroyed (my hips), joints. Still, the most that has been achieved is lessening of symptoms—not remission.
Fashionably Flawed
Because of PsA, I have had to rethink all I’m doing with vintage fashion: Running my business, and all the steps involved, is much harder. I need—and get—help with most everything. Wearing vintage fashion is hard too. I’ve gained weight with the disease and the medications, it’s much harder to zip a back zipper with stiff arms, and it’s downright painful to wear anything tight.
Still, standing in front of my overflowing closet, surrounded by a rainbow of eclectic dresses, tops, jackets and skirts, I'm not just looking for what to wear—I'm making myself happy. For me, vintage fashion is more than just a quirky style choice; it's a lifeline to managing the physical and emotional pain of psoriatic arthritis. The soft, worn fabrics, the colorful patterns, and the stories behind each piece are a balm to my soul—even just to look at.
Finding Confidence in Imperfection
What do I wear now? Having seen the gamut of fashion from the 20th century as a dealer, I have some favorites for my present condition.
Soft knit dresses, such as rayon or cotton jersey—1940s are my favorites.
1960s A-line cotton house dresses with front zippers.
Kimono-style jackets from any era, the silkier the better.
Slip-on knit skirts from the 1970s. I especially love novelty print knits from that era.
1990s oversized unstructured blazers in linen or cotton (vintage men’s jackets can be great quality).
Cotton wrap dresses—especially 1940s and 50s-era.
Accessories, accessories, accessories.
Some vintage fashion for PsA. You can find these all in my Etsy favorites (affiliate link).
Vintage Vibes and Chronic Hope
Me, in a comfortable hand-embroidered and hand-woven cotton dress made in Tlaquepaque, Jalisco, Mexico in the 1960s to 70s.
Since being diagnosed with PsA, I have adapted my work and taken on some different jobs in vintage fashion. I published a book in 2020. I’ve been the president of the Vintage Fashion Guild and am currently serving as Vice President.
My passion for vintage fashion has become so much more than a beloved job for me now. It's a form of self-love, a declaration of self-worth, and—I dare say—a defiant rejection of the limitations that chronic illness can impose. I feel that I can defy the constraints of my condition by expressing my personal style. I’m imperfect, that’s clear, but perfectly myself.
I am writing this during Psoriatic Arthritis Action Month, organized by the National Psoriasis Foundation. Reading others’ stories helps me. I hope my story is able to help someone else.