Is it a twinge of the heart or a wistful sigh? Perhaps it is a sentimental longing for the past. Don Draper in Mad Men translates the word “nostalgia” from Greek as meaning “the pain from an old wound”.

Like Don Draper, I use nostalgia to sell things. Nostalgia is what helps me to make that important visceral connection with my customers.

I began collecting vintage dresses in the 1990’s, the most boring decade of fashion ever inflicted on humanity. Minimalism was popular; the colour beige, Jennifer Anniston hair, an absence of belts and accessories. Instead I filled my wardrobe with vibrant vintage dresses because they made me feel intoxicated just by putting them on.

A vintage dress reminds me of childhood summer holidays with my grandmother in rural Victoria, her old house full of dusty vintage treasures atop handmade lace doilies, her garden full of fruit and vegetables. I ache to revisit her simple life.

I have a tendency to remember the past better than it actually was, steeped in a rose-coloured Instagram filter. In reality, Don Draper probably smoked and drank himself to death in the 1980’s.

Music and smells can also trigger a bout of nostalgia because they are processed in the amygdala, the emotional part of the brain. Is this why I cry-sing to my old mixed tapes from university? I am transported back to skipping lectures and tricking cute art students into kissing me. And let’s not discuss how many times I have watched “The Sound of Music”.

I also have a tendency to hold on to things that make me feel melancholy; a box of photos and letters, an ultrasound of a baby not for this world. I am like a ghost haunting the sites of ancient traumas.

Sometimes nostalgia can trigger a bout of regret. It reminds us of something we have lost; a loved one, a dream or an opportunity. But regret can be a catalyst for change; it sends us a clue about what needs to change in our present.  We may not be able to change the past, but we can reclaim the spirit of what we have lost. I am in the process of reclaiming my own version of “the simple life”; my lifelong dream of living on a farm.

“A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams” – John Barrymore.

With my vintage dress collection about to hit four digits, my unhealthy attachment to the past has begun to feel heavy. Many of my dresses no longer fit, which makes me sad. My post-baby body has changed.

“How the fuck did you manage to hoard 1000 vintage dresses?” ~ An excerpt from my future divorce papers.

I have decided to let go of everything that does not nourish me. Perhaps if I let go of what is behind me, I can better reach what is in front of me.

Vintage 60′s cotton Malia dress

Over the next few months I will be selling some of my vintage dresses in our online store. These dresses are looking for a new adventure with someone special. Subscribe to the Kitsch List and we will deliver them straight to your email inbox.

If you see a girl twirling in her 1950’s dress today just let me do my thing okay.