This year I kept the rhythm of selling and creating, but also looked to the deeper purpose behind what I do. Vintage is never just fabric and design. It’s care, it’s memory, it’s hope stitched into style. It is the history of having hope, even in the most difficult times. And in 2025, I saw again how much that still matters. More than anything, this year reminded me that the most meaningful moments don’t come from numbers — but from where things land.
About 2025…
I don’t always know how to express what I, and many of you, are feeling. I’ve always tried to lift others during other rough times — 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, Sandy Hook, Covid 19. Now I am having a harder time, along with so many, dealing with where our country seems to be headed. I find myself choosing my words carefully. In real life, I’m showing up and working to change the harm I see done in our United States. In my business, I try to gently remind others of the things that I believe matter.
Against all of that, I kept doing what I know how to do: noticing beauty, sharing it, and sending it out into the world — sometimes very quickly.
One-Day Wonders: Items That Flew From My Shop
Comfy cotton in a leopard print from the 1960s, sherbet polka dots from the 1950s, late-1930s flowered cotton, late-1940s rayon with pink flashes — is it any wonder these didn’t stick around?
She Wears the Pants
Let’s face it, there just aren’t enough vintage trousers to go around! This year, I offered ’60s capris, ’50s clam diggers, ’70s wide-legs and ’80s tapered tweed. They walked out of my shop hastily.
Best in Show
I let the dogs out. I admit it.
Due to popular demand (from the voices in my head), I'm making videos now
As so many of us who jumped online to offer vintage in the early 2000s know, the job has never been simple, but it didn’t involve social media, which is now important for engaging our community.
Besides posting on Instagram, Facebook and Pinterest, I now occasionally make videos to introduce items and collections. It turns out that making videos of clothes—their movement, their mood, their details — brought me closer to why I started doing this in the first place.
Gray Matters
Brown may have had a moment this year, but gray is a perennially favorite neutral. 1950s silk tweed suit by Betty Rose, 1970s feather jacket, late-1940s wool suit with wonderful details — neutral color, but not neutral style.
The Golden Hour
I finally let go of a jacquard dress with blue velvet trim and a satin bias-cut dress with back bands beaded with stars. These were worn by the same woman in the 1930s, and there is more where these came from. Don’t touch that dial.
Any Color, So Long as It’s Pink
Pink, for me, wasn’t sweetness this year. It was resolve.
The Cream of the Crop
These are the pieces that asked me to slow down. From an Art Deco hair comb to a 1930s cotton suit and ’40s tilt hat, to Gunne Sax and a Mexican wedding dress from the 1970s, cream rises to the top as always.
Geometry Lessons
Whether you favor squares or circles, I’m here for you. Even trapezoid lovers are welcome.
Flower Girls
Bouffant flower hats and roses galore. Who doesn’t want to be a walking garden party?
Very Happy Endings
This 1950s hand-painted satin dress came to me from a very generous donor, whose items I offer with 100% of the profit going to Dress for Success.
I replaced the original very worn buttons with some vintage rhinestone buttons that I had been saving for just such a special purpose.
The dress landed in just the right place — this review absolutely made my day.
And this buyer even took the time to show the packaging. Care doesn’t stop when something sells and it means the world to me when this is noticed.
This 1960s alaskine beauty found its way to a woman who is wearing it for her daughter’s green and pink wedding in Southern California. She said,
“I don’t typically buy vintage online...but this dress was like it was made for my daughter’s wedding. The beadwork! The color! It’s beyond amazing.”
Still in Print, Still Loved: Wear Vintage Now!
Wear Vintage Now! continued to make its way into new hands in 2025, thanks to wonderful readers and shop owners like Kaylan of The Getup Vintage in Ann Arbor, who wrote:
“As a vintage brick and mortar store owner, I wish I had written this book! It’s the perfect addition to my employee manual and I’ve now purchased multiple copies to give to new hires. LOVE IT!”
Every new reader reminds me why I wrote this in the first place — to share what vintage means beyond trends: beauty, sustainability, joy, individuality.
Words Worn Well: Blogs That Meant the Most
I write fewer, but longer, blogs than I once did. In terms of sheer acreage, the blog of the year was about the history of brown in 20th-century fashion (Wearing Brown Then and Now).
I finally committed to organizing my thoughts about fast fashion becoming vintage — a tricky and timely subject. The blog is Fast Fashion: The New Vintage? A Question for Our Closets (and the Planet).
One blog, How Can We Find Joy and Purpose in Tough Times?, ended up being a bit of a manifesto for myself and, I’m happy to say, meant a lot to others.
Closing Thoughts
This year reminded me that beauty can last. That connection endures, even when the world feels fractured. That meaning is in the details — a well-sewn seam, a handwritten note, a perfectly timed dress for a September wedding in Southern California. That what we keep, what we pass along, and what we choose to protect — trees, manatees, and each other — matters.
Thank you to everyone who walked with me, bought from me, read my words, wore vintage with pride. Here’s to more style, memory, and joy in 2026.
With love,
Maggie | denisebrain