All of my vintage dresses are pretty special, special enough that I know they have stories and a history.
It was hot. The heat stuck to you like a glove; it seemed to hang in the air like an invisible blanket. Looking out the window, seeing past the brick walls and the plaster, her mind envisioned the coast. The air breezy, the taffy salty and the boardwalk lit up as the sun slipped below the horizon. She knew she had to get out of the city. The blackouts were rolling from neighborhood to neighborhood, and the streets rustled with the restless energy of a summer slipping into a sustained heat wave. And when she thought she couldn’t see the ocean one day, she saw it in the window. A dress that called her to the ocean. She felt the sand between her toes, the water swirling around her ankles and the world felt right. The dress was hers and the ocean was in front of her. The world was not so cruel after all.
p.s. We got a new clothing rack for all of our vintage dresses. We got plans for those beauties. The old rack toppled over, the new one stands firm and strong. And that I can count on!