The past lives of vintage fashion items

Ever wonder where your vintage fashion item has been? Sometimes they reveal their history through pocket contents or photos, other times it takes a little work to uncover their past lives. History is held in the stitches and the seams of these items!

A Bank Robbery, and a Yellow Suit

Louise's yellow knit suit was worn by a local philanthropist. The dry cleaning receipt tucked away in a pocket, dated June 1972, is a tangible link to the past owner, offering a glimpse into the life she led. We can almost imagine her wearing the suit, attending fundraisers and making a difference in her community.

Denise's vintage shoes are more than just footwear—they are a window into a thrilling moment in history. Frances Billyard, the original owner, wore the shoes to her first day at the First National Bank of Fostoria, Ohio, only to find herself in the middle of a bank robbery, allegedly by John Dillinger himself! Denise's shoes, never worn again by Frances, hold a silent witness to a moment frozen in time.

The Crosby Connection

Jolene (of Black Lotus Vintage) found a 1970s sheer floral maxi dress at a church sale which held a surprising connection to Hollywood royalty. Stitched into the hemline, original photographs revealed that the dress belonged to June Kuhn Crosby, wife of Bob Crosby and sister-in-law to the legendary Bing Crosby. It's a testament to the power of vintage, where even a tag sale can hold extraordinary gems.

Beyond the Famous: Everyday Stories

While some vintage pieces connect to famous figures, it's the everyday stories that often mean the most. Avera (of Fashion Past Forward) has a video series which highlights the emotional significance of vintage garments: Mrs. Myers's 1924 wedding dress, Avera’s own Granny's wedding dress from the 1940s, and the garments sewn with love and expertise for Avera by her grandmother.

From Greece to Hollywood: The Journey of a Bolero Jacket

Marsha's incredible 1920s bolero jacket is a story of resilience and artistic ambition. Through meticulous research, Marsha (of Ranch Queen Vintage) unveiled the journey of its original owner, Anna Mulinos, a singer who emigrated from Greece to NYC and later worked as a seamstress for Paramount Studios in Hollywood. Her daughter, Angelie, followed in her footsteps, becoming a successful actress before facing blacklisting during the Red Scare. This jacket is a tangible link to their remarkable lives, highlighting the hidden stories woven into the fabric of vintage.

Every vintage item holds the potential to unravel a captivating tale, connecting us to the past and reminding us of the enduring power of human connection. I invite you to share your own vintage stories in the comments! Let's continue weaving together the threads of history, one vintage piece at a time.

Whose dress was it?

I am asked fairly often if I know anything about the original owner of a vintage item. What did she do, what did she look like—who was she?

I have written about some of the women I have either met or gotten to know a bit through their clothing, and it’s about time I updated with a few more. I don’t always have the good fortune to know anything about an original wearer of the vintage fashion I find, but when I do I pay close attention so I can share their stories.

I’ve written about Jacqueline, the mother of a very good friend of mine (I love my vintage clothing sources)

Juana, who worked as a model for one of Spokane’s department stores (Another favorite source)

Helen, a philanthropist (An ode to Helen South Alexander) and (A tiny fraction of Mrs. Alexander’s clothing)

A woman I only know through her grand niece (The suitcase lot)

Mrs. Gordon, whose husband was blinded in WWII yet she dressed to the nines (You’re a sight to see, Mrs. Gordon!)

Alice, about to be married for the second time at the wonderful age of 85+ (Lovely lady lot)

Betty, who was a manager at one of Spokane’s department stores (She’s a Betty)

There are more, and they have been so gracious to me. I have many unofficial grandparents!

I think of Ruby, who made her own clothes with impeccable skill and cried when I offered her money for the clothing, which she was just going to “put out on the curb.” All 100+ pieces of it!

Mrs. Walls, who had “forgotten she had all these clothes” in her basement

Shirley, who let me come to her garage sale way out in the country a day early because she figured no one would care about the clothes (there were enough to open a store)

Carol sat on the stage with her boyfriend, the pianist with Lawrence Welk, while they were taping shows.

There was the gentleman whose wife had passed away and he was finally ready to let go of some of her clothing. He gave me a fantastic set of highballs he bought at the 1963 Seattle World’s Fair when he found out I’d grown up in Seattle.

One man I met had just purchased and laid down a load of stones to make his driveway a little smoother for my visit. His wife had been a manager of better sportswear at a department store in Spokane. We talked quite a bit because my father played jazz trombone and he had a boatload of jazz albums and played jazz himself. He asked me where I thought he got his accent and I guessed New York. He said Chicago, which is his nickname. He came to Spokane when he was 12 and he was then 105. 

Then there was Elaine who was sweeping her walk when I first met her. She is African American and came to Spokane on V-J Day, September 2, 1945. Her clothes were so precisely cared for and pristine that they were as if new.

There are many more. One that truly haunts me was an Italian-American model whose daughter offered me her mother’s clothing. She had wonderful items, including this Howard Greer dress. I happened to see her photo and she was one of the most beautiful women you could possibly imagine. She had died estranged from her family and had a very hard life, including alcoholism. Her clothing was very well kept and of spectacular design.

Sometimes there are the hints of a prior owner, left in bags or pockets. I’ve written about some of these in The contents of a vintage pocket and the dating of vintage

Sometimes there is a name tag or signature.

I especially love it when items have notes or pictures with them, giving us an idea when and how something was worn.

One of my most recent acquisitions is an intriguing (and large!) collection that belonged to a ballet dancer and her mother. Both apparently dressed to be center of attention—the dancer just more youthfully. Many things were altered or embellished…there is an overwhelming sense of flair to everything belonging to these women, which seems fitting!

I like to think that we perpetuate these people through carrying their stories—along with their clothing—forward.

The contents of a vintage pocket and the dating of vintage

I have a box of interesting items found in vintage pockets and purses. I’ve never found the elusive hundred dollar bill or diamond ring, but there have been lots of tickets, invitations, candies, notes and handkerchiefs...even a citation for prostitution! 

Last week, I found these in the pocket of a beautiful 1970s Pendleton coat—

The date on that lower right coupon? 1979. (Just for fun, I tried to use the coupon at my local Fred Meyer yesterday, and raised a minor ruckus!)

 

Just a few weeks before I came upon this groovy bag—

If you look very carefully, you can see dated signatures on it. I’m picturing the end of a high school year and friends signing each other’s yearbooks—only in this case, it was her bag.

This dress (in my Etsy shop), came with a note attached—

As did this hat—

This linen clutch bag is a veritable time capsule, with its contents dating from 1940 and 41. 

I wish all vintage pieces had a date somewhere on or with them!

Two vintage labels I have found to have dates at least during some years of their history are B.H. Wragge—

    

and Marimekko— 

Union labels help with dating. Check out the Vintage Fashion Guild’s ILGWU page for photos of the labels used and their dates. I recently ran across the Cornell University ILR School webpage with even more detail on union labels and dating.

Maybe we should all attach a dated note to our favorite clothing—that, or leave a grocery store coupon in a pocket!  

Vintage with messages

I have heard from some of you how much you like the background stories of vintage items of clothing. Lots of times I’m asked about the history of a particular dress and can’t say, but personal encounters make the clothes come alive in a great way.

In the past few weeks I have found a couple items with notes. I didn’t meet the original owners but their notes are such lovely links to the past.

This hat, in my Etsy shop, was wrapped with tissue:

This dress came from another woman with a note pinned inside the neckline. It is in my web store now:

One of the more interesting time capsules I’ve seen in my vintage business is this linen clutch with its contents, from the years 1940 and 41, intact.

My vintage sources

I sometimes get to know something of the women from whom I acquire vintage clothing.

I’ve written about Jacqueline, the mother of a very good friend of mine (I love my vintage clothing sources)

Juana, who worked as a model for one of Spokane’s department stores (Another favorite source)

Helen, a philanthropist (An ode to Helen South Alexander and A tiny fraction of Mrs. Alexander’s clothing)

I woman I only know through her grand niece (The suitcase lot)

Mrs. Gordon, whose husband was blinded in WWII yet she dressed to the nines (You’re a sight to see, Mrs. Gordon!)

Alice, about to be married for the second time at the wonderful age of 85+ (Lovely lady lot)

Betty, who was a manager at one of Spokane’s department stores (She’s a Betty)

There are more, and they have been so gracious to me. I have many unofficial grandparents!

I think of Ruby, who made her own clothes with impeccable skill and cried when I offered her money for the clothing, which she was just going to “put out on the curb.” All 100+ pieces of it!

Mrs. Walls, who had “forgotten she had all these clothes” in her basement

Shirley, who let me come to her garage sale way out in the country a day early because she figured no one would care about the clothes (there were enough to open a store)

There was the gentleman whose wife had passed away and he was finally ready to let go of some of her clothing. He gave me a fantastic set of highballs he bought at the 1963 Seattle World’s Fair when he found out I’d grown up in Seattle.

One man I met had just purchased and laid down a load of stones to make his driveway a little smoother for my visit. His wife had been a manager of better sportswear at a department store in Spokane. We talked quite a bit because my father played jazz trombone and he had a boatload of jazz albums and played jazz himself. He asked me where I thought he got his accent and I guessed New York. He said Chicago, which is his nickname. He came to Spokane when he was 12 and he is now 105. 

Then there was Elaine who was sweeping her walk when I first met her. She is African American and came to Spokane on V-J Day, September 2, 1945. Her clothes were so precisely cared for and pristine that they were as if new.

There are many more. One that truly haunts me was an Italian-American model whose daughter offered me her mother’s clothing. She had wonderful items, including this Howard Greer dress. I happened to see her photo and she was one of the most beautiful women you could possibly imagine. She had died estranged from her family and had a very hard life, including alcoholism. Her clothing was very well kept and of spectacular design.

I like to think that we perpetuate these people through carrying their stories—and their clothing—forward.