The fashion trend cycle is rewinding everything back to Y2K fashion. This means many early-2000s staples have risen from the dead: bell-bottoms, leg warmers, and of course, low-rise jeans. A piece of clothing that I hated for the longest time.
From a bird’s-eye view, flea markets reflect something of an indie-fied Where’s Waldo scene, one that invites you to jump into the page as you begin your search. On a broader scale, fleas suggest more than just a fun way to meet people and their creations. It is a valuable outlet for cutting through the noise of overconsumption.
The subway has cheap fares, no insurance, and no responsibility. In theory, this system is accessible and a revolution for those wanting to save money while having reliable transportation — until the responsibility to be safe falls on the femme, the “vulnerable,” and the fashionable.
Over the years, the idea of the final girl has certainly evolved. From sexual orientation to racial identity, the make-up of a final girl has been diversified to include all kinds of shapes and sizes. Say bye-bye to Black people always dying first, and hello to the female protagonist fighting the killer to save her girlfriend, not just her boyfriend.
My pinterest boards were filled with models and people with curly bobs, the smiles on their faces convinced me that their hair was the root of their happiness. I needed a chop.
Thrifting, in many ways, has changed the game of fashion and the traditional trend cycle. Not only is thrifting slowing down the damage of fast fashion by providing a more sustainable substitute, but additionally, reusing second-hand clothes has brought back past trends, making some pieces timeless.”
Can I tell you a secret? I own a vintage fur coat. My grandmother recently gifted me her once prized possession. This golden mink garment has so much sentimental value to me. I remember running my hands over its soft fur and trying it on while my grandmother told me about her adventures wearing the coat in the city.
Pulling into the lot, the shadow of the massive warehouse towered over Clara’s pickup truck. Near their car, a mother and her young daughter were rolling up their sleeves and putting on plastic gloves. At another car, a group of 20-somethings had the trunk down and laid out their finds.
Surrounded by the picturesque slopes of Brokeback Mountain and dressed in traditional western cowboy attire, this clipped confession is equal parts romantic and heartbreaking, and the accompanying scene perfectly encapsulates the tragedy that is Ang Lee’s 2005 cinematic masterpiece Brokeback Mountain.