When Wearing Vintage Clothing Means Reliving A Painful Past

I have a little ritual I put into practice whenever I visit a new city. First, I locate the nearest hospital (ancient Jewish tradition); next, I look up Bon Appetit’s recommendations for where to eat in the area (Claire Saffitz, run me over!!!!!); finally, I Google “vintage clothes near me.” This cursory Google search has led me to some of the greatest, weirdest purchases of my life, from an exorbitantly priced, hand-silkscreened robe I bought at a little shop in Ho Chi Minh City under the justification that I would “wear it every day” (I accidentally left it in my Airbnb) to a pair of 5-euro clear plastic clogs I unearthed in a Berlin kilo shop, where everything is priced by weight. Read more at Garage.