The Downside to Thrifting: Vintage Alfred Angelo

Hey all - I didn't really have a blog post planned for today, but then something happened last night that broke my heart. 

 I have a small confession to make: I have been keeping my eye out for my wedding dress. Now, I can tell you I'm no where close to getting married. At. All. 

However, I'm also a realist. I know that I will want a vintage dress and I know that I will want to thrift it - I wouldn't be me if I didn't. Now, I'm not going to thrift store to thrift store, wedding dress shopping because for someone who isn't engaged, I ain't got time for that! But, I do usually just look through the gown section, see all the Princess Di, poofy 80's craziness and move on to the dishware section, dresses, or whatever department I need to checkout. 

So, last night after taking some outfit shots with Amy, I headed over to one of my favorite thrift stores right near my house - they have a "bargain basement" where most of the clothes are a dollar. I was doing a little searching for a new blog segment (more to come on that later!) 

In the Bargain Basement, I always do a first sweep in the dishware (got to keep my eyes out for some Melmac and Pyrex!) and then head over to the dresses. I turned the corner and literally gasped out loud. There was this gorgeous vintage lace wedding dress. Now, it was fairly yellowed, but the detailing was beautiful and the price was just $2. I figured if fit, I could do something with it; when I looked at the tag and saw that it was Alfred Angelo   - designed by Edythe Piccione: who, I discovered through simple research, was Angelo's wife, who started designing for the company in 1935. 

Now, honestly, I felt a little odd trying a wedding dress on so, I did what thriftaholic would do - texted my most reasonable friend to talk me out of it and went to look at shoes. I walked around the whole store - twice. But, I couldn't get my mind off of that dress. 

So, I gave in. I tried the dress on. Well - I attempted to try the dress on. It was tiny. Now, I'm definitely used to finding too small vintage clothing, so I just sighed, sent up a little hope that it would go to someone who would love and respect it, and put it back on the rack. 

I was back in the dressing room trying on a really cute sweater when I heard these kids yelling through the basement. I then heard this boy who was probably about 12 or 13, saying "OH GOSH, IT IS A DRESS!" I exited the dressing room and walked over to the furniture room. But, I kept hearing this child saying "IT IS ONLY $2. I'M GOING TO GET IT. IT IS ONLY $2!" 

Now, I can only imagine what a pre-teen guy wants with a vintage wedding dress, but I can assume that it has future of dirt or fake blood instead of be transformed to its former glory. 

I'm telling you, they just don't make dresses like that anymore. I wish that I could save all gorgeous vintage clothes - especially wedding dresses, something that someone wore on one of the most special days of her life - but, unfortunately, I don't have the room, money, or sewing skills to fix everything. Plus, I'm pretty sure that my mother wouldn't be too happy if I did. 

However, I have to say - this one hurt. It is so easy to hope that a gorgeous vintage item goes to someone who respects it when you are unable for whatever reason to purchase it, but to know that it and its history won't be appreciated - it can really wound a vintage purist. 

So, I thought I would share the two pictures I snapped of it so that its history, previous owner, and beautiful style would get a little bit of the respect that it deserves. 

xoxo, 

Laura 

UPDATE: I know that a couple of you all found this story just as heartbreaking as I did. Well, the other day, I got a text message from Amy with a picture of what looked like a pile of lace, saying "IS THIS THE WEDDING DRESS?!" And indeed it was. Amy was in her church's youth group room. Their group decided to do a thrifting fashion show for one of their activities. So, while this dress won't be walk down a wedding aisle anytime soon, it will be used to strut down a catwalk. I'm just relieved "zombie bride" isn't its future.