What Story Are You Wearing?

Ani Trejo Barrington

Most days all it takes is looking back to recognize that what is right it front of you was always there.  At least that’s how I feel about my vintage business. I am an Enneagram 4, which means I love all things that make me feel unique, special and set apart from others.  That’s what vintage was and is for me. I remember growing up in San Antonio when going to thrift stores was the cool thing to do. I was in 9th grade and at the time it was t-shirts and sneakers that were the ultimate grabs.  I loved the feeling when people would say how cool my t-shirt was. The questions usually went like this: “Where did you get that?” to which I would cooly reply, “The thrift store…”, to which they would quickly say, “Dang.” And then with only seconds more of interest left, I’d slip in, “And it was only fifty cents…” I made friends and enemies out of conversations like this.  The truth is, vintage shops were always too expensive for me. Vintage & secondhand was found most easily at thrift stores where the hunt was what thrilled me. The one time I was able to spend money at our one true vintage shop was when I went to prom and my mom bought me a gorgeous black dress and matching earrings. I still cherish the whole outfit which is proudly sitting in the closet of my parents’ home.  By senior year, my tastes changed a bit to pleated skirts and loud tops, but through and through the thrift stores called my name and delivered. I was always so proud of myself for these finds, but by the time I got my first job working at the mall for a regional skateboard shop, I was buying new clothing and goods like never before.

Enter…college, I was spending so much time and money buying cheaply made clothes from the outlet store which was only two miles from campus and at Target which is where my first credit card resides.  Without a good thrift store in sight, I lost a bit of myself in more ways than one. It always takes a good heartbreak to help you focus in on the fact that when you change for someone else, it comes with subtle changes in other parts of your life.  My clothing, much like my college romance was cheap and it fell apart within a few wears. I started to feel like I was getting exactly what I paid for. My awareness about the little tag that stated where clothes were made began to rise.

I went to graduate school in Dallas years later. I lived and worked in the same space where President Bush lived and worked at the church where he attended regularly.  Suffice it to say, my wardrobe changed. I found some of the best high end, non-vintage clothing in nearby thrift stores and so I was only a season behind, but still on top of trend.  I also wore an occasional vintage outfit, which kept people on their toes, but overall, I felt excited to be back in the scene. I started flipping some of the clothes I found that were name brand on Facebook marketplace groups and loved it.  Again, my heart wasn’t in it for the cause, it was just for the thrill of finding a good piece that someone else would want. The extra money didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t aware, yet, where I was worried about what my clothing really meant.

In late 2015, I felt my world being upended as my husband and I decided to leave Dallas and pick up in Colorado, a place we had always dreamed of living.  Colorado Springs for some people may not seem like a dream place (and trust me, it has its room for growth in diversity, openness, etc…but that’s another blog for another time), but for us, it’s the place we needed to redefine ourselves.  I left a stable career and entered into a 30’s mid life crisis and then I watched The True Cost. I cried…a lot. I love people and I love people till I can love no more. To think that for years of my life, I was ignorantly supporting systems and fashion that didn’t love people but exploited them in their desperation, it made me sick.  I was positioned perfectly in life and within .2 miles of an ARC location to recognize that my obsession with vintage and second hand had an end, a purpose. It was more than just the clothes. It was the story behind the clothing that meant so much to me. I began to envision a woman wearing her union made clothing with such confidence and pride that whoever made that garment was fairly paid.  The conviction behind my own shopping habits changed, too. I stopped getting sucked into the Target vortex and challenged myself to take the more difficult route of waiting until I found the right piece second hand. If I really wanted that chambray button up, then I could wait until I found it second hand.

My obsession turned into a small business when my cousin offered a way out of my post-partum depression and encouraged me to take on running a vintage shop with her.  I wanted this business to reflect what I didn’t have growing up. I wanted prices to be within reach for people. I wanted the sizes offered to be inclusive and I wanted people to leave with a piece from our shop knowing their deep beauty.  I want to be shocked that this is what I do now for a living, but I’m not. Buying, wearing and selling vintage & second-hand has always been valuable to me. However, Womxn of the Future and Eclectic Co. changed my life and literally made my dreams of having this business thrive come to fruition.  The Womxn of the Future pop up wove me into a community of people who constantly challenge me to be more creative, more conscious and more thoughtful. The fact that so many of us from those events are now a part of the Eclectic Co. family is a reminder that the stories we wear, whether they are a garment, a piece of jewelry or a handmade pair of chopsticks, matters.  People matter and I certainly cannot bury my head in the sand about the impact that our dollar has on the economy, the world and real humans every day. My hope is to always be a business person who evaluates what story I’m telling with my purchases. My hope is that you can be challenged to do the same as we continue on this journey together of learning how to love our world and one another better.