VINTAGE. A LOVE STORY

It's jewelry that was once a gift - a token of deep feeling, a cherished date, or a memory. Things that accompanied someone in a moment when nothing else mattered. Objects from another life, another era.

My love for vintage began in Paris. A cliché, I know - but true nonetheless. In Paris, vintage is its own form of art, and some secondhand shops are essentially boutiques filled with pieces that carry history. In the Marais district, you'll find countless little shops offering secondhand bags and luxury accessories - with prices far from modest. A bag might cost €1,500, €3,000, or more if it’s rare. People don't buy these pieces to save money. For vintage lovers, they are far more precious than new items: often in impeccable condition, rare, unique, and with a style that unmistakably belongs to another time.

But what is it about that era? What joy is there in wearing something not of today? If you're reading this, you likely have your own answer. Mine is this: it embodies timeless beauty, femininity, sensuality, delicacy, taste. My personal aesthetic was shaped in the '90s - by the fashion of that decade.

Of course, like everyone else, I wore rhinestones in the 2000s and embraced minimalism in the 2010s. But when the '90s made a comeback, I was swept away. Memories resurfaced - stylistically flawless films like Pulp Fiction, Twin Peaks, Basic Instinct, Moonlighting (yes, that show with a young Bruce Willis), and so many more. Women wore styled hair and heels, stockings and sharp-shouldered blazers. It was an era when our favorite actors were young and full of energy - and so were our parents. Life itself felt new and incredibly exciting.

I'm not sure if it was truly like that or if I'm romanticizing it, but it seemed like the atmosphere in the country after perestroika was intoxicating, even for children. Suddenly, we were given freedom, and the future felt full of promise - who we could become, where we could go. People didn't just believe - they knew everything would be different now. Endless opportunities, travel, freedom of speech and choice. Democracy. I remember those long conversations among adults, the TV shows with Khanga and Menshov, Sorokina, Strizh, the pop music of the time, and my first foreign sweets. It felt like we were on the same wavelength as the grown-ups - our eyes and hearts wide open. That's the true joy and uniqueness of that time.

Today, we can still dwell there, at least in spirit - by weaving echoes of that era into our style. Not only as a childhood memory, but as a time of boundless joy and hope, born from the collapse of an oppressive, almost enslaving system. And perhaps, one day, such joy will await us again.

Yours, M.

What is vintage to me?