Dancing around your room (in undies or otherwise) is ultra freeing and is best done to badass girl bands like Bleached. Shouts to Spotify’s Discover Weekly for helping me find this gem from all the way back in 2011.
I don’t know if this is an official video or what, but everyone looks really good in it, so I recommend actually watching it, taking notes on that girl serving bow-around-the-brim-of-her-hat, socks-with-heeled-sandals realness, and then putting this shit on repeat and wilin’ out in front of the mirror with the fervor of someone about the jump into a pool fully clothed just for the heck of it. (That monster of a run-on makes more sense if you watch the video.)
I’m lucky to live in New York, one of the fashion capitals of the world and home to some of the choicest thrift stores. But I don’t live in that cool part of New York you’re probably thinking of–I don’t live in the city. I live in a sleepy beach town on a barrier island, technically in the suburbs of New York City, technically part of Long Island. Don’t judge me – my town’s different from the Trump-supporting, un-ironic Juicy sweatsuit wearers that you’re probably imagining. Though we might be a little more bearable than other places nearby, there aren’t any thrift stores around, really. Not even a Salvo in sight.
And so, when I was on the hunt for the perfect pair of vintage Levi’s, I could have hopped on a train to BK or Manhattan, less than an hour away. But alas, I haven’t yet climbed the career rungs beyond the title of “Intern” and ya girl is BROKE. If you’re not familiar, I’ll have you know that the Long Island Railroad is ridiculously expensive, too. So when a vintage seller on Instagram requested to follow me, and I then quickly fell down the rabbit hole of browsing through the seemingly millions of other Insta-vintage shops, it was like my worn-in denim prayers had finally been answered. I didn’t have to schlep. I could swipe.
Ah, Jane. We first met when I couldn’t sleep and happened upon a documentary about you around 3 AM. I was seventeen and a little unsure of myself, and something about you resonated with me instantly. An English girl with big teeth (I, too, am big-toothed, though from New York) who travels to France, dates older men, and acts perhaps more grown up than she really feels–in the documentary, you reflected on how young and wrapped up in a French whirlwind you were. You seemed so genuine, and still so beautiful despite the years that had passed since your “hey-day.”
Your waif-like figure and effortless fashion sense were, of course, appealing, in addition to the admittedly strange emotional connection I had with you from your interviews. And yes, I wanted bangs just like yours as soon as I saw them. (I actually attempted to cut my own, a few years later in college, with mediocre results.) Since then, I’ve kept a sort of Jane Birkin vision board in the back of my mind when shopping or trying to piece together an outfit in the morning.