A fortuitous vintage find, the Spice Girls, and the unexpected red theory
At a yard sale last spring, I bought a red Adidas jacket. The tag read “vintage, 90s”. This wasn’t something I was looking to add to my wardrobe — in fact, I’ve always maintained I hate the color red — so I’m not entirely sure why I bought it. Maybe because it was a beautiful day and anything felt possible, including me looking good in red for the first time ever? Maybe because the rest of the yard sale was full of designer brands and well-curated vintage so I knew this particular person had style and I thought wearing their old athleisure would rub off on me?
(Maybe I just liked it and it’s not that deep and doesn’t need an entire essay about it? That goes against the spirit of Substack, though.)
It’s been about a year and I’ve worn the jacket a handful of times (mainly because it’s so rarely “light jacket” weather in Minneapolis). Sometimes I wonder if it was a silly impulse purchase, but when I see it in my closet it does, in fact, spark joy.
There’s a new design theory called “the unexpected red theory.” (When I say “there’s a design theory” I mean it in the same way people say “I read an article about” which is to say a there was one (1) tiktok about it that people have pounced on.) According to this ~theory~, adding red where it doesn’t belong pulls a space together effortlessly. For a month or so after hearing that, I allowed myself to believe that I — a fashion genius — had intuited this concept at a neighborhood yard sale.
And then, while scrolling through my Instagram grid from five years ago1 I came across a 2019 comic I made. And I remembered: wanting a red Adidas jacket is a decades-long dream of mine.
We did it, 1997 Daci.2 We got that red track jacket, even though we’re still not that sporty.
This is now the third or fourth time I’ve accidentally (and on purpose) realized that my personal taste is informed by my ~lore~. I think there’s more to this, and I will continue to write about it aimlessly.
everyone does this, right? right???
In case that comic does not speak for itself (there’s a lot I would edit about it now): I was obsessed with Mel C.’s red Adidas tracksuit at age 12, but pre-online shopping, it felt impossible to find. At that same time I was getting the catalog Eastbay, which I always thought was called Eastboy. Horrified that anyone would think I was a boy and not what I really way —your Louisiana 1990s run of the mill pretty popular tween girl lol — I threw the catalog away without ever opening it. Cut to 10 or so years later, when I found an old catalog in my room, realized it was called Eastbay, and opened it to find my coveted red tracksuit, just a phone call and a credit card number away the whole time.