LondonNet Shopping Feature
Racks to Riches
Ashley
Brown rifles through stacks and piles for the best find - the truth
behind vintage shopping in London...
Flipping through
a series of LP bins at a shop obviously ignorant of its jazz and rock
goldmine (probably acquired from an equally ignorant estate or garage
sale), I cautiously glanced over at the man gunning down the row opposite
me. I anticipated the moment at which we met in the middle of the
row, equal parts dread and firm resolve. I knew there existed a small
but distinct window in which, if I yielded, I would be overrun by
said man, but if I defiantly held my ground he would be forced to
divert and step around me, thereby possibly ceding first look at one
of the bins to me.
These extremely important nuances are lost on the casual shopper,
who would be more inclined to politely move aside, but in him I could
easily recognise the trademarks: fingernails embedded with the dirt
of a million old LPs, a nose immune to the musty assaults of piles
of discarded clothing, and an arsenal of trying-on shortcuts
throwing the pants around the neck, measuring shoes sole to sole
these subtle indices reinforce the old adage, because in the world
of vintage shoppers, it truly takes one to know one. Unlike with other
addictions, vintage shopping is a solitary sport, as any junky worth
a pair of antique Zodiac boots will tell you shopping companions
are for high street, and will only slow you down. An entire obsessive
subculture surrounds vintage and antique shopping, and although theres
no initiation, membership is implicit, and vintage shoppers tend to
view one another with more wariness than camaraderie.
The Vintage Find
The
appeal of vintage over high street is distinct but somewhat difficult
to articulate, but it can be explained partially in the fact that,
unlike the mass-manufactured, brand-new spoils of high-street fashion,
which peddle more of an image than simply a garment, vintage finds
are weathered and mired in history. With high street chain fashion
and even couture fashion houses, although a piece is generally new
and trendy, it also almost assuredly has thousands of duplicates,
and, particularly with the most popular chains, youre guaranteed
to see an exact replica on the street. With vintage pieces, however,
a look can be cobbled together with several that, although not necessarily
unique, are self-contained enigmas vintage pieces offer a
past that prompts curiosity about their origins and previous owners,
about all the hands they travelled through that were oblivious to
their value, a value now redeemed by you.
Its
a strangely gratifying feeling to find something dog-eared and bedraggled,
weighted with accumulative layers of time, relegated to a bargain
bin long ago by someone to whom it was worthless. Its a value
universal in the world of vintage, used and derelict objects. I
once found a copy of a Throbbing Gristle LP in the dregs of a Salvation
Army charity shop, and was amazed by the fact that it had apparently
remained so long undiscovered but then, this recalls another
adage as worn as the array of cowboy boots gracing the shelves of
East End shop Beyond Retro one mans treasure is another
mans junk.
The
Bin Banger
Vintage shopping is hardly a trade reserved for reclusive crate-
diggers, though fashion is by nature cyclical, and elements
of retro looks are always reworked and re-enter fashion, if only
subtly at first. This season, stores like H&M and Topshop have
both commandeered and contemporised the exotic bohemian look found
on spring runway shows, a fad reminiscent of seventies hippie chic,
peppered with a modern dash of multiculturalism. Many high fashion
magazine stylists turn to vintage shops in order to accessorise
and complement the couture fashion spreads contained in the pages
of their glossy monthlies. Magazines such as Elle and Nylon incorporate
vintage pieces with pieces by fashion behemoths Burberry,
Stella McCartney to give outfits a more individualised appeal.
And that, in essence, is what vintage shopping is about it
provides the opportunity to create a style that isnt a mere
facsimile of a high street mannequin, and one which requires imagination
and adventure rather than simply a zone one tube pass and plenty
of cash.
The
component of the appeal of vintage shopping that is probably most
puzzling to outsiders is the act itself, which is often less shopping
as it is sorting through piles of what are quite often just dirty,
old objects but this search is unhampered by dry spells that
can endure for weeks or months. Its equally unhampered by
the magnitude of the putative junk to sort through
the hope of the ultimate find that may be in the next shelf or in
the next box is sufficient motivation to spend hours pillaging charity
shops and suburban garage sales. The Swans LP I found at a charity
shop was the last record in the last box I flipped through in a
room filled with LP boxes, and it was entirely worth the hour or
so necessary to look at them all.
These
sorts of finds, though, are rare in metropolises, because theyre
generally dependent on the ignorance of the seller as to the value
of the item, or, as difficult as it is to imagine with gems like
that Throbbing Gristle record, a long line of ignorance through
which the item has passed. And since London generally seems to attract
more experienced, savvy shoppers, the possibility of a genuine chance
find is even more remote. But although central London contains a
number of vintage, antique and record shops whose extravagant prices
and extremely rare wares make them more like museums than stores,
some relative bargains can still be found.
Where
to Dig
162 Holloway Road
162 Holloway Road
Tube: Holloway Road
This
store, located near the University of London, is composed of two
long rooms with a decent selection of dresses, blouses, shirts and
jackets at reasonable prices, with some army surplus gear toward
the rear. The store specialty, though, is its bevy of traditional
Indian and Asian pieces, including Mandarin-collared dresses and
colourful garb with intricate embroidery. Prices range from five
to twenty UKP for shirts and dresses, with higher prices for leather
jackets and camouflage pieces.
Rokit
107 Brick Lane
Tube: Aldgate East
This
painfully hip store with three branches around London proffers retro
clothes at prices rarely below twenty UKP. According to a store
clerk, the stock is imported from a mother company in Canada and
pre-priced, which makes it automatically suspect, and shoe prices
are criminal - but the rare, moderately priced find makes a stop
here worthwhile.
Beyond
Retro
112 Chesire Street
Tube: Aldgate East
An
excellent emporium with a veritable warehouse of vintage clothing
in all manner of styles, this gem of a store, located a few blocks
off of Brick Lane among industrial, derelict-looking buildings,
is a haven for weathered vintage shoppers and fashion-industry types
alike. Prices are some of the best bargains youll find in
central London rarely more than ten UKP for shirts, blouses
and heels, fifteen UKP for dresses, and thirty for jackets and boots.
Some household wares and furniture are offered, too, along with
myriad accessories, bags and sunglasses. The shoe range is well
maintained and appealingly arranged according to colour, and the
sweaters and shirts are laid out likewise. Although the store bills
itself as American Retro in London, the pieces are obviously
culled from Canadian and American rag houses. The slightly Misleading
advertising notwithstanding, Beyond Retro is the best of its kind
in central London, achieving the rare coupling of a lack of pretension
with a keen eye for style.
Salvation
Army Store
9 Princes Street
Tube: Oxford Circus
This
sparse but well-kept store is tucked around the corner from the
high street mecca of Oxford Circus, but is hardly the sort of dirt-cheap
Salvation Army free-for-all so common in the suburbs. Clearly catering
to high street types willing to wander ever slightly off-path (two-thirds
of a block, to be precise) to do some rummaging through this stores
less than ample racks. Items are generally moderately priced, following
the Rokit model of slapping a thirty UKP price on anything looking
vaguely out of the movie Repo Man.
Portobello
Road Market
Notting Hill Gate tube
Fridays, about 8am-4pm
Although
the rest of the market runs through the weekend, the best day to
go for vintage shopping is Friday. The wide array of decades and
styles represented in the stalls underneath the canopy, several
blocks past the antiques and foods, attracts both casual shoppers
and designers in need of inspiration, and, accordingly, some stallholders
cater to the latest runway trends. Prices are generally low, but
since stallholders know their stuff, rarer finds can top fifty pounds.
Ashley
Brown
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