After a close shave with high-street fashion death, I’m now a devotee of secondhand marketplaces
Up to a point, I can plot my life in clothes shops. M&S and Asda as a kid; New Look and Tammy Girl as a pre-teen, then Topshop, surf shops and our local 60s den for massive corduroy flares – the full complement from my rural hometown’s offering. When I moved for university, I revelled in the terribly exotic (to me) Gap and Zara; during my 20s, London offered the untold riches of Cos, Monki and & Other Stories.
After turning 30, that sense of surefire fits slipped away. I was probably too old for Topshop’s cropped-everything, plus I found its owner a bit gross. I felt jaded by Cos’s austere dental hygienist smocks. And the emerging age-appropriate uniform of mid-length floral skirt, nice jumper and heeled boots felt like a millennial update of M&S’s old Classic collection, AKA premature fashion death. Where next?
Laura Snapes is the Guardian’s deputy music editor
