The moment my foot lands inside the door, the older women working there and browsing, stop and stare. The median age is probably sixty-five and a quick glance about the place leaves me less than hopeful but I've been hunting for some vintage, reasonably priced wine glasses for some time now so I bolster my courage. It's when I'm staring at religious books in a corner that I decide I've been polite enough and can leave without seeming rude.
And then, as I've almost reached the door, I have one of those moments. There have been just a handful of these moments in my life, where time slows and it feels a little like fate. You turn your head at just the right moment, glance down for some reason - small things. That's when you're eyes meet and it's a little like falling in love. It hits you like a solid thing. On a rack, just by the exit, is a red plaid suit by Avoca with the words "Made in Ireland" emblazoned across a label at the top. It's terribly old fashioned, something only an elderly woman would wear, but it calls out to me. The jacket, so long and well-lined, would actually make a rather cute coat and the skirt could be just the sort I've been looking for for some time now with a little alteration. The print reminds me of the coordinating outfits my mother dressed me in as a child where everything had the same print; down to a beret perched on the side of my head. It's the solid kind of tartan that can be elegant, casual or punk. Styling will make these pieces go far, a little imagination.
When I notice it's down to a tenner, I fumble in my trembling excitement to take the jacket off the hanger and see about the fit. It's perfect. As I shrug back out of it and gather my things to bring it to the counter, one of the women tells me, "There's a changing room in the back, luv, if you want to try the suit on first." She's giving me a curious look, as are several others. I probably look a little mad buying something that looks so old fashioned.
She puts it in a bag for me and we chat amiably about the crazy-changeable weather but she's giving me mucho side-eye. I beam my thanks at her and skip out the door.
Now that it hangs in my room and I've examined it closely, I notice a little more wear and tear but I like that it has character. I've tried the skirt on and it fits my waist with just a little space for comfort - as I like it - and has pockets which is always a bonus. With the hem pinned to the length I'd like it at, it hits a cool and elegant midi. The jacket over a band tee and skinnies with stompy boots or the skirt with a solid piece of knitwear and some extra height are a dream.
I do so love to be proven right.
Moment of madness or inspiration? Let me know.
