Growing up I was not fashionable...at all. My closest friends being guys meant my style consisted of boys flannels and jeans up until high school. Then I started attending an all girls school. While the uniform did nothing to enhance my style, being surrounded for the first time by girls opened a new world of interest for me. It was then that I really started "dressing". I had a short stint through sophomore year trying to be hip and fashionable, but the tight t-shirts and skinny jeans were not for me. One weekend of my Juniour year of high school, my mom and I were cleaning out our basement. "My barbies!" I heard her squeal from the other side of the room. Out she pulled an old case full of the barbies she and her sisters had played with growing up in the 60s and 70s. As I surveyed their wardrobe something happened to me. The puffy skirts, the cigarette pants, the striped blouses....they struck a chord. And thus began my vintage obsession. Through out the rest of my high school career I wore saddle shoes and pleated skirts and knee-length jackets. My friends commented on my "new-old style" and were a not confused. Why would I go backwards? It was not cool but then again i had never really been cool so it did not surprise them. Once I got out of high school and started my job, I was finally able to really showcase the style that I had developed over the past couple of years. I had scoured old time magazines and watched reruns of I Love Lucy and Happy Days. I had filled notebooks with cut ours, photos and sketches...and now I had the freedom and funds (limited though they were) to express what I had cultivated. I scoured thrift stores and estates sales, building a nice vintage wardrobe. I had built up the confidence to express who I was. But then that changed.