Anyone who knows me knows that I live for vintage clothes.  I’ve been wearing second-hand gems since the early 90s, When Cobain rendered vintage Levis, graphic T shirts, corduroys and flannels the height of fashion.

Later I graduated to slip dresses, cardigans with holes and Doc Martens.  And now I wear just about everything: floral kimonos from the 20s, long silk robes from the 40s, baby doll dresses from the 50s and peasant dresses from the 70s.

But lately I’ve been feeling kind of “eh” about digging through racks of musty apparel. The other day I went to the Rose Bowl Flea Market and upon entering the “clothes section” I quickly opted to leave.

Maybe it was my Dries Van Noten over the knee boots making me sweat in 80-degree weather, or maybe it was the sheer amount of clothes that each vendor carried…or maybe it’s just that I don’t have that same level patience to elbow my way to the racks as I once did?

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m going back next month.  But next time, aside from wearing flip flops, I’ll need to have a system down so I won’t get overwhelmed by the enormous layout.  Any advice for a dried up vintage whore, er, connoisseur?