historical Lynwood haute couture

 historical Lynwood haute couture

      Sometimes being poor stretches the creativity of a person and despite my privileged upbringing I was downright poor in the early 1970's. My family and friends had been carrying me and my sale of weed kept me loaded in the evenings with no concern for the future. While my Dad offered me easy ways to make pocket change I was  too lazy sometimes to even drive a few miles to perform actual work. So, by my early 20's I found my way to the venerable thrift shop Value Village at 10450 Long Beach boulevard where discarded treasures awaited and a hobby was born. Most of my friends and especially my parents would not wear used clothing but in the hippy days that kind of stuff was stylin. The place became known as La VV and I was one of their best customers starting around 1970. The bargains there seem impossible now but in the late 1960's a good number of World War II veteran's widows were unloading junk they did not want to see again like rayon hawaiian shirts that their husbands may have brought back from being stationed in Pearl Harbor. Not all of these things were magnificent nor did everything make you look like Montgomery Clift in "From Here to Erernity. Yet, these well-made works of art sold for 95 cents alongside other kitchy items thought to be terribly lame by their sellers. This included easy chairs, lamps, band-T-shirts and even dress shoes that later became the rage for women to wear. I once found a genuine World War II Bomber  pilot jacket for 8 bucks and only had to replace the cuffs and collar which I did at BC's secret but dangerous Watts tailor shop. There was California Ultra Pottery, Bauer dinner sets, stetson hats and of course thousands of LPs that were left for dead. There were odd corners where you could find vintage sports coats that were cool with a pair of jeans, geographic scarves that now are accessories for cool chicks. Friend David bought dozens of bowling balls he used to make an art installment. My friends made fun of me and wore store bought stuff with no character while I got 100% cotton shirts that I ironed myself and wore with distinction at the library. It was a a ritual to visit and find a parking spot then slowly go down each aisle pushing aside hundreds of hangers/garments to find that vein of vintage gold. I still have my reunion of the Enola Gay bomber t-shirt and bought a not too interesting wool baseball hat for Billy Hogan because it was the very hat of his first team at SGJAA when his Dad was coach in 1956! I wasted lots of small amounts of cash taking a risk on junky utensils like meat grinders or pressure cookers. However I still use a stack of hotel china and put hundreds of found visuals into frames that hang on my walls today that were a buck a pop. I rarely searched the women's rows but did find very cool house dresses, cashmere coats (another story on that later) and purses that were great in 1950 but not for old ladies then. I visited VV so often one Saturday my Dad was looking for me and called the store where I was found easily since I was always the one white person in the store.