In many ways, I feel that vintage carries with it stories of the past. A bit of the woman who wore her before me. Like a friend who has known you your entire life, there are secrets in every swath of fabric, every stitch of leather. And as I reach for a particular piece on a particular day, I feel as though I’m reaching for that woman. Taking her hand and letting her know that I remember her. That I carry her in my daily life and have become part of the story.
As you read this, I am off on what has become an annual ritual with my very best girlfriends – the Chosen Family Reunion. Once per year, rain or shine, hectic or calm, we congregate at some predetermined location to sip wine, share our triumphs and woes, and indulge in some serious girl time (we’ve talked about including some husbands, but you know….maybe next year).
Every year, I look around the room of laughing women – met over the years in middle school, in theatre, or through one of my other friends, and I picture those young girls. Unsure of who they are and their place in the world, but certain of their place with each other. And while the backpacks and trapper keepers were soon replaced with passports and mortgage payments, many of us now with babies and/or husbands in tow, we are still that much better together.
Many months ago a friend contacted me – she had been going through some old storage bins and found her Nana’s purse from the early 60’s, which she bought when she lived in Trinidad. My friend had been keeping the bag for years for sentimental reasons, but wanted it to be worn and loved and thought I might like to have it. After exclaiming a very loud “YES!” I asked my friend is she had any information on the provenance of the bag and a bit about her Nana.
She said that they moved, as a family, to Trinidad in May of 1964 and stayed until July of 1966, when her grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. He was an engineer and the firm he worked for was redoing the island-wide sewerage system. Her grandfather was former military and so her grandparents frequently went to dinner at the local navy base and her Nana often went to tea at the country club frequented by officers’ wives. My friend’s mother said that, while they lived on the island, all of her Nana’s clothes, from dresses to gloves to bags and hats, was custom made for her (with the exception of shoes), so the bag is a custom piece and likely the only one in existence. My kind of gal….
Here is the deepest secret
nobody knows……and this is the wonder
that’s keeping the stars apart.i carry your heart
(i carry it in my heart)
E. E. Cummings
My friend didn’t have any photos of her Nana carrying this bag, but in getting to know her through her stories and photos, I could see it fitting perfectly into her wardrobe. Carrying her essentials, bearing a place of honor on her arm. I wondered if she had taken it along with her to her own girl’s weekend or lunch with friends, well worn from the passage of time and the weight of adventure.
In going through these pictures, while I ran my hand along the smooth leather of this bag, I thought about how much vintage reminds me of an old friend. The minute this piece arrived, it was as if I’d known her forever. As if not a single minute had past since the last time we spoke. And I slung her over my shoulder and knew how lucky I am to carry it. To carry a piece of my friend’s Nana, and the life she lived.
All of these thoughts were tumbling around my head as I carefully packed for my trip, charging my iPad and preparing for everything from hiking to raingear to cocktail dresses. And my mind drifted to the hundreds of times I have packed this very suitcase, jetting off to new countries or jetting back to old friends. I have been the member of our pack that has spent the longest time away. During out 5+ years in Australia, I couldn’t participate in the monthly Google chats or really be in tune with the day to day minutiae of their lives the way they could be. But the minute my foot touched back on this time zone, for a trip home, a wedding, or our final move back to the States, it was as if I never left.
I can’t imagine what life would have been like without these women in my life. Because unlike many childhood friendships, we never held each other to predetermined roles. We’ve allowed each other to grow and change from those gangly girls into fierce women. We’ve opened the fold and welcomed each other back after miles and oceans away. And I think that’s the secret to lifelong friendship – it ebbs and flows and allows for change, but is always sitting and waiting to be rediscovered.
On Tuesday, one by one we will all depart. To the airport, to their cars to start on the route home. Back to our daily lives and daily adventures. But there’s never a sense of panic in this – in all the years and all the goodbyes, I know I’ll simply be grateful. Because with each departure, they carry a piece of me with them. I feel safe tucked into each of their lives, whether it be a few days or a few months since we caught up. Like a perfect well worn handbag, waiting to be carried to her next destination. Entrusted with her contents, never to be taken for granted.
They carry me. And wherever I may be, I will so carefully carry them.
xoxo
Outfit Details:
Top: Alexandria of California
Skirt: Advantage in Vintage (similar modern or vintage here, here & here)
Necklace: Anthropologie (similar)
Handbag: gift, Vintage (similar here & here)
Shoes: Alannah Hill (similar here & here)
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Any items marked with a “c/o” (courtesy of) a retailer mean I was provided with an item for free in exchange for a review on my blog. I always provide my honest opinion of any item I’m reviewing, regardless of whether it was sent to me as a courtesy item or if I purchased it myself. In addition, this post may contain affiliate links. This means that if you click and/or make a purchase through certain links or ads on this site, I may make a commission from that click and/or purchase at no cost to you, which helps with the day-to-day running costs of my blog.