OOTD: More big pants
I guess it was sort of reproduction day around here. When I first started buying vintage clothes, a major motivation I had for doing it was that I don’t like creating waste, and also I value history so much that preserving items from the past is tremendously important to me. So it was critical that every piece I buy be true vintage, no exceptions. And I still feel largely that way, but as I began to develop my style, I realized that a big part of 1930s and 1940s fashion was pants. Big ones. And the more I looked in my regular sources – online, local vintage shops and shows – the more I realized that authentic vintage wide leg pants from the 30s and 40s are incredibly rare. In all the time I’ve been doing this, I’ve maybe come across just one or two pairs of wide leg, high waisted gabardine or jersey pants in my size. One you’ve seen here, and the other was out of my price range. I think it’s probably because they were such a wardrobe staple for working women, and because depression and war forced people to make do and mend, that by the time the 50s rolled around no one wanted to hang on to them anymore, used and mended and worn.
So, in this narrow situation, I admit to buying reproduction pants.
I have tried three sources so far for 40s style pants: seller Allure Original Styles on etsy (who doesn’t appear to be taking any custom orders at this time), seller Time Machine Vintage on etsy, and Vivien of Holloway, a UK-based repro company. I bought the Allure pants second-hand so they weren’t custom made, and they were a little too big in the waist and tight in the hip – if you look at her samples for sale they’re extremely slim-hipped for the waist measurement. I haven’t gotten my Time Machine linen pants yet, but I can’t say enough good things about the two pair I have from Vivien of Holloway. They’re not made to order, but there is a solid 12-inch difference between the waist and hip measurement, which works out great for me. I’m short, so I always have to get them hemmed one cuff’s worth, but the price is fantastic for the quality–I think they usually come out to around $80 and the construction and fabric are beautiful. They do sell out quickly of reasonable sizes, so if you see something you like, snag it before it goes out of stock.
As if this reproduction transgression wasn’t bad enough, I’m also wearing some fabulous 1930s style reproduction heels in a rose gold by Remix, a fun but pricey shop on Beverly Boulevard. I love this store, and I love their shoes. I do have several pairs of vintage heels and they’re great, but they just aren’t that comfortable for all-day wear or dancing. But these–these are perfect for that.
The top though. The top is vintage.