Some cheap bastards complain about the $2 cover charge to enter the Fairfax High School flea market on Melrose each Sunday. If the self-righteous hipsters can stomach paying fifty dollars for another horrifically studded denim jacket or similar disgracefully simple DIY disaster; support the California school system. Without public schools there would be no place for your parents to quietly send you once every private academic program refused their generous contribution in exchange for babysitting your over-privileged ass.
The flea market is a people-watching aficionado’s playground. The game being the hope that between the tables and tents of collected wares, a crop of fashion future will emerge, like a beacon of hope. The intention at the beginning of the search was to find the best examples of fugly. As with any game, the gamble is whether the entry fee will became a carnival ticket you had no intention of purchasing.
However disappointing the lack of fashion disasters were to catch, the shamelessly fashionable cam to represent in full force. These were my favorite tables to pour over, for colors, from the arrangements to the displays. Despite the lack of fugly fun fashion to be had, a crop of eye candy, between the lost treasures gave me hope for fashion future.
Observations today, and a peak into the additions to my vintage closet, tomorrow.
When a ten year old has better roll-out-of-bed style than you. Just when we thought there was no hope for future of fashion with tween running around in full-faces of makeup, over-styled in fads; this little one gives me hope. (Even if her Nanny dressed her, at least someone in looking out for America’s children, mucho gracias!
Nothing says, perfect day ahead than an all black ensemble. One of me favorite designers (shocking not a Coco quote) said it best: If I hadn’t spent one too many go-arounds of a mothball infested rack of flannel shirts, I may have asked this gem to be friends. On second thought I have plenty.
Speaking of fabulous friends, Chantey J en route from the ATM. Remember folks, all the vendors accept Visa now (through their iPhones) but cash is King! Nothing says LA Winter than topping off with a beanie when the base layer is tank top. Besides, all my favorite things are happening here: blonde, leather, and fringe. If you cannot see all the amazing, fashion glory in this image then those are fighting words.
I was so cold walking around in tights, boots, and scarf (freezing at 45*) this tiny girl has big brass balls. This outfit is terribly unoriginal, and screams, “Forever 21 Mannequin”, however it is one of my favorite hipster uniforms. Thigh highs, converse, mini, and dipped dyed denim vest (no o.g but from Urban) on a stick person, I DIE! For a moment, I lose myself and think, this could be my look too, hot. When I have completed my experiment to remove of one my limbs so I too can be the fashion stick person that can respectably wear thigh highs in day light, I will post the proof. Until then I am resigned to keep them tucked away anxiously waiting a pseudo-appropriate debut (thinking Vegas! everything is appropriate in Vegas)
You’re invited of course, see you next Sunday on Melrose !