A couple years ago, my mom gave me this coat. It had been hers, collecting dust in my grandma's attic until grandma found it cleaning one day and brought it to her. Mom knew about my love of vintage clothes (so many times I wish she had kept her wardrobe over the years!), so she had it dry-cleaned and surprised me with it one day. I'm a virtual clone of my mom at my age, so it fit perfectly!
There's something special about wearing this coat, even above the usual feeling of wearing vintage pieces. To me, part of the allure of wearing vintage is that it's a tangible connection to the past. It's a reminder of how time moves in cycles, and that, as different as all our stories are, there are always parts similar to others' that help bind us together. I can't wear a piece of vintage clothing without wondering about the person who first bought it when it was new. What was her life like? Was she wearing it when she met her husband? Held her first child? Did she love it, or wear it twice and relegate it to the back of her closet? Was she like me at all?
Knowing who had this coat before me (and the fact that it was my mom), I don't really wonder about the same questions, but the connection is certainly stronger. Maybe I'm entirely too sentimental about this kind of thing, but I love beyond words wearing something that my mom wore when she was about my age. The fact that it's plaid and faux fur is really the icing on the cake.