
Dolce & Gabbana Store Window, 5th Avenue, New York, 2015
As soon as I was able to dress myself, I insisted on choosing my own outfits—though they often clashed, were impractical, and, admittedly, looked rather ridiculous, I loved the freedom of picking anything I wanted. As a teenager this freedom was replaced with a fear of standing out, but inside I longed to wear the classic Burberry trench coat. When walking down 5th avenue at 14, I stopped dead in my tracks in front of the Dolce and Gabbana store. In the window was a pale pink coat, it was simple enough but I was in awe, the tailoring reminded me of the 50s, an era of fashion I had always admired for its perfectly feminine silhouettes, but truthfully I didn’t know why I felt so much for a coat, just that I did. A few months later, in my boarding school dorm, I came across the 1949 Christian Dior Junon gown. At the time I wasn’t aware it was considered ‘Christian Dior’s ultimate masterpiece’, I simply fell in love. The delicacy and femininity of the gown depicted women as equally awe-inspiring as nature, and it somehow felt empowering. Without really knowing it, throughout my entire adolescence designer fashion had enchanted me, lit a child like wonder in me that still exists to this day, and is where Alice in Wonderment comes from. However, I knew unless I could achieve my dream of becoming Sarah Jessica Parker as soon as I finished university, it was a long time before I would be able to experiment with designer pieces in my own style.

That was until my boyfriend at the time became an avid second-hand shopper. His street style and appreciation for British brands like Fred Perry and Maharishi, largely inspired my own style and how I shop. He taught me how to find designer clothing on second-hand websites and fuelled my own appreciation for British and streetwear designers. Although shopping from the High Street was much easier, the more time I invested in second-hand shopping, the more my personal style developed. I started to appreciate clothes more and become fascinated by the history behind brands. The instant gratification from fast fashion was gone, instead when I would find that vintage designer piece, it felt like finding a perfect needle in a haystack. Rather than mindlessly liking and buying something in Zara, I now spend weeks trying to track down a vintage Vivienne Westwood, or Evisu, or Dolce and Gabbana jumper. I encountered designer brands more in tune with my own personal style and not only could I afford them without achieving my Sex in the City dreams, I had clothing that felt rare with a rich history behind them.
Beyond style, vintage shopping also aligned with my passion for environmental and humanitarian issues. The fashion industry has been detrimental to our planet as the textile sector was the third largest source of water degradation and land use in 2020, while being responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions. By buying vintage and second hand clothes, we avoid wasting water to make new items while also keeping clothes out of landfills. From a humanitarian standpoint, fashion has a terrible reputation. Fast fashion companies often use warehouses (more accurately sweatshops) in poorer countries to make their clothes, exploiting weak labour laws and the locals’ need for a job. Garment workers are often obligated to work up to 16 hours per day, seven days a week, facing verbal and physical abuse from managers. They also work in unsafe conditions, exposed to harmful substances while injuries frequently occur. In Bangladesh, the Rana Plaza which housed 5 garment factories, collapsed, causing the death of over 1,000 garment workers. Since then, nothing has changed. Fast fashion accounts for 88% of the clothing industry in America and an estimated only 2% of all garment workers are paid a living wage, while the industry makes over 106 billion US dollars in profit, making fashion one of the most exploitative industries in the world. Over the last five years I have stopped buying fast fashion, instead opting for second hand finds, sustainable brands or smaller/independent designers. I look fabulous and feel even better.
Need proof? Here are some of my favourite vintage finds:




