To Wash Or Not To Wash?

When it comes to the clothing you wear every day, the answer to this question is obvious. But when talking vintage clothing, and especially antique garments, the answer is not often so clear.

We at Vintage Vixen include recommended washing instructions for all the vintage goodies in our catalog. These instructions are what we'd do to wash and/or care for the item. While you could read instructions item by item and learn our standards of care via the catalog, I thought a good overview of how we wash, dry, press & steam clothing would also be helpful, so you can decide how to best protect your vintage clothes.

I've divided the basic cleaning processes into various stress levels in the table below. The table outlines the kinds of washing processes, drying processes and wrinkle treatments you commonly use in clothing care, and it's sorted from most stressful to least. This addresses the question of "should this garment be washed?" based on its fragility, fiber and age. The question of whether a fiber is washable or dry cleanable (without considering its age) is addressed in our daily care tips .

Most Stressful	Dry Cleaning	Machine Dry	Hard Ironing	Durable dry-clean only fabrics	Many items, primarily 1940s and later
	Machine Wash	Machine Dry	Iron or Hard Press	Durable washable fabrics, post-1940s synthetics	Many items, primarily 1940s and later
	Gentle Machine Wash	Drip Dry	Pressing	Durable silk & rayon, some cottons, linens, wools	Most wearable vintage clothing in washable fibers
	Hand Wash	Dry Flat	Steaming	Antique cotton and linen, some silks & rayons, many types of knits	Items that are being conserved (with dual goals of display and preservation)
Least Stressful	No Washing	N/A	None	Antique silk, most clothing pre-1890 or so	"Retired" clothing; items that must be preserved

Please note that you could certainly combine a more "stressful" machine
wash with a flat drying and no pressing or steaming, for instance. Also note that this chart uses generalizations. For example, most antique cottons hold up to hand washing, not all. Most silks handle dry cleaning well, but some must be hand-washed. Many synthetics of the 1960s & 70s need no pressing or steaming, though they'd withstand the process. Myriad factors determine washability & other treatments, including the fabric's weave, the possibility of running dyes, the fragility & prior use/abuse of the fabric, etc., and each garment has to be assessed as the individual it is.

That being said, we can still make some good use of these generalizations. Let's start with the washing process. I've placed dry cleaning as more stressful than machine washing only because the dry cleaning attendant is not likely to be as observant as you are toward your own clothes. Cleaners should look for garments that potentially damageable (or damaging to other items cleaned in the same load). However, leaving a prized vintage garment in their hands is only advisable if you trust them already. If not, you should assume machine dry cleaning is acceptable only for very sturdy garments that are not rare or antique. Dry cleaning by hand (essentially an all-over spot cleaning) is also possible. We do this here, but it's rare to find a professional dry cleaner who will provide this service.

A dry cleaning machine is actually quite similar to the clothes washer you're already familiar with. The major difference is that its solvent is dry cleaning fluid instead of soap & water (dry cleaning isn't actually a "dry" process at all).

Regular machine washing is separate from the gentle cycle because the latter is indeed kinder to clothes - there are generally fewer and lower agitations in a gentle cycle. The gentle cycle is distinctly different than hand washing, however, and the gap between the two is pretty large, although the latest generation of washing machines is changing that, as some now offer both a gentle cycle and a "hand wash" in the machine.

In a traditional hand wash, not only can you work the garment as slowly as you like, but you can also observe it much more closely than in any washing machine. It's much easier to start a washing machine and forget about a garment than if it's in your hands. A hand wash will allow you to see dyes runnings, and perceive fabric tearing or wool shrinking as it occurs, so you can minimize damage or avoid it altogether. Also, the regular agitation of a machine can contribute to pilling, while hand washing does not.

If you prefer to use the gentle machine cycle over hand-washing, to alleviate the additional stress you can encase the item in a net bag or pillowcase to buffer its movements. For those considering traditional hand-washing, it can actually be quite meditative, if this helps persuade those averse to spending the time!

The one exception to not cleaning is when the garment has some known stain that would attract pests. While dirt alone does not attract pests (because it's not a food source), something like oil or starch would.

It seems pretty obvious that the least stressful way to wash something is not to wash it. Some antique clothing should, in my opinion, not be washed or worn. If respect for its age outweighs the thrill of the wear, then it should likely not be washed, except for necessary spot-cleaning under careful and well-prepared hands (see Wearability Factors). Antique garments in archival storage are not washed, as the stress of cleaning far outweighs any helpfulness obtained by removing dirt or dust. A sound archive will keep dust, pests, and other "enemies" out by prevention rather than cleaning.

Next, we're on to drying processes. The same agitation rules apply here - machine drying rolls clothes around (i.e. it stresses them), and the dry cleaner's machines are quite similar to home dryers. We often recommend that busy people who don't want to hand wash should at least drip dry/dry flat their knits, to reduce pilling and that worn, fuzzy-surface look that acrylic & cotton knits get. Drip-drying is more helpful for thick garments that need even exposure to all surfaces, while drying flat is better for knits and other items that might pull out of shape on a hanger. Make sure to use a molded, thick hanger that supports the garment if you drip dry.

How you remove wrinkles can make a huge change in the lifespan of your vintage clothes. I'll touch on fiber types as they relate to this subject, but I want to focus on the wear factor of ironing versus pressing & steaming. Some fabrics, like cotton and linen, need a hard ironing and/or pressing to make them look really great. Many wools, cotton blends & linen blends will need a gentler version of the same. Although you must press or iron to make your garment wrinkle-free, the friction and pressure of ironing is stressful to the fabric. Try to press instead of actually ironing; a vintage garment should be pampered in this department. Use a press-cloth (just a piece of plain unbleached medium-weight fabric) between your garment and the iron to shield against friction and unwanted shine marks.

What's the difference between pressing & ironing? Pressing is a drop-down & pick-up movement with the iron, while ironing is a back-and-forth movement of iron gliding over fabric. Ironing is faster, but it can stretch or distort fabric, while pressing cannot.

The next gentlest method of removing wrinkles is via a garment steamer. This equipment is one of the handiest tools in clothing care; it's definitely not a gimmick product though we suggest buying quality. A steamer boils water in its reservoir, then the steam arrives at the end of a handy wand that you apply at (or near) the fabric. The steam allows you to quickly remove wrinkles from fabrics that don't accept ironing or pressing well. It's very efficient and much less harsh than an iron, as it omits the friction & pressure factors.

Many garments we sell are wash and wear, as people's lifestyles dictated easy-care fashion in later decades of last century. Earlier decades largely went without the luxuries of synthetic blends and technologies like permanent press, so these clothes often need additional attention for this reason. Likewise, the greater the age, the more respect the item deserves.

When in doubt, go easy on the fabrics you care for. A careful choice at laundry time can mean a world of difference to the life of your clothing!

--- April Ainsworth

Silent Muses in Closets & Collections

Though this article was first published at vintagevixen.com in 2005, it's still relevant to the vintage clothing world today. We're posting it on our blog as we sweep clean our old site design, and gear up for a total facelift to appear in the next few days. Stay tuned! :) Magazines continue to proclaim wearing vintage is stylish, unique and shows no sign of letting up. The trend has become so mainstream that recent articles are beyond introducing vintage to readers; now they explain how to select vintage that meshes well with contemporary closets. Rummaging for vintage gems has become a conventional shopping trip. Lara Zamiatin, an Australian reporter, states "vintage is the trend du jour of the early noughties". Yet fashionistas sometimes point to vintage clothing as a passing fad, usually because of the perennial revamp designers seem to put on runways season after season. So is vintage clothing still a fresh idea, or is it old hat? Judging by our business, the popularity of vintage clothing with consumers is strong as ever. Why? It's difficult to replace the panache of a one-of-a-kind vintage design with the mass production available from designers, however "vintage" these mass-produced ideas may look. The level of quality attainable for a low price is also impossible to repeat when contemporaries remake vintage designs. The price point for a 1950s vintage cocktail dress is often half as much as a comparable remake from moderately-priced lines like Ann Taylor or Anthropologie. While it's possible to buy high-end remade vintage looks (think longstanding retro houses like Missoni and Pucci), prices are sky-high compared to vintage counterparts. Designers too have a long relationship with vintage clothing, which in turn has spurred the demand for authentic vintage. Many design houses have been "sampling" prior generations of clothing for inspiration for years, refuting the idea that vintage clothing was ever just a fad. One intriguing example is in the movie Fashions of 1934, produced the same year as its title. The plot shows style pirates traveling to Paris for the latest modes, where amusingly they discover that Parisian couturiers of the day are digging in local street markets for inspiration from illustrated Victorian books. This seventy-year-old film bolsters the notion that vintage inspiration is anything but old news. It's been more like a design tool for those in the know, and once was a chic secret... at least until the last decade or so. So vintage clothing is still hot, and was (in some capacity) even in 1934. Today everyone from American Eagle to Marc Jacobs uses vintage clothing as a jumping-off point for their latest lines. While we know that this process is not new, a second question arises - is such "borrowing" a sign of creativity or plagiarism? Despite fervent debate over this question, general consensus says that interpretation is legit, but line-for-line copies are not. A case in point: Yves Saint Laurent's legal victory over Ralph Lauren for a dress Lauren exactly copied in 1994. The original was from a YSL collection in the 1970s. So skirmishes over vintage-inspired designs have occurred, and at least some boundaries have been established. But what about vintage clothing sold as part of a modern clothing line? Vintage clothing is tagged and sold in contemporary boutiques like Ralph Lauren's Double RL, DKNY, Jill Stuart and Barney's. Vintage decor is displayed for sale at Anthropologie, whose own descriptor is "fashion : home : found". That last word found blurs the line between vintage and new. So when someone like Jill Stuart graces a vintage garment with her seal of approval, does its je ne sai quois double? Or is it bad form for a designer to pluck a vintage piece and openly claim it as a tangible muse? It could go both ways. For example, the value of designer-chosen vintage designs increase if buyers value the designer's judgment and selection. Buying the designer's own vintage choice is like having the designer shop for you... and they've pulled that one high-style score out of the vintage clothing jungle. In this case, the customer adores the vintage piece and appreciates its careful placement in the designer's shop. We could say it's savvy marketing on the part of the designer. One could also say that these designers have become vintage dealers. However, the display of vintage clothing alongside a designer's new creations turns the design house inside-out. It shows the buyer that the designer used someone else's ideas, and the true "original" comes not from the designer's hand but from some unknown source (probably a vintage clothing dealer with a good eye). Charlie Porter of The Guardian commiserates about Balenciaga: "The clothes sold by labels... are so good, you want them to be completely original. Often, it seems, they are not." And the vintage piece itself could've been found for less through the dealer himself, but no longer. And the customer might buy the vintage item but leave with the feeling that the designer's a copycat; or at least less creative than originally thought. Is this really good for a fashion house? Perhaps not, but Pandora's box is wide open at this point. Vintage garments parade the runways in contemporary collections and the clandestine sourcing of retro ideas is no longer really anyone's secret. This isn't necessarily bad, or the end of mainstream popularity for vintage clothing. Media attention shows it's just the beginning, although designers are now competing with the public for the best vintage available. They may someday regret the loss of formerly little-known vintage clothing contacts. Perhaps the advent of the Internet helped create this shift in vintage clothing sources, but designers have embraced showing their vintage roots for years now. And while we have a vested interest in seeing vintage clothing as enjoyable and wearable, decades of designers have also shown us old clothes are the foundation for new. And vintage designs will always sought-after for their irreplaceable chic. ---April Ainsworth Bibliography: Eden, Diana and Lintermans, Gloria (2001). Retro Chic: A Guide To Fabulous Vintage and Designer Resale Shopping in North America & Online. Toronto: Really Great Books. http://www.bc.edu/bc_org/avp/law/st_org/iptf/articles/content/1997121201.html http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,681586,00.html http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/05/25/1085442126328.html?from=storyrhs&oneclick=true

Book Review: Alligators, Old Mink & New Money

Though it's not newly published, we hope you'll enjoy this book review from our old site design's free info section. Over the next few days, we're transferring these articles to our blog... consider it website housekeeping. :) Meantime I hope you'll see something intriguing amongst the posts! The quirky title is an apt descriptor of the lively contents in this book by sisters Alison & Melissa Houtte. It chronicles Alison's journey from a newly discovered model in the 1980s, who flew alone to Paris in her teens, to a vintage clothing shopowner in Brooklyn sharing anecdotes about buying and selling in this interesting niche business. Alison's stories will resonate with fellow vintage dealers, and they're a fun vicarious experience for shoppers. She recounts having a customer find a label in a dress before she did, learning who Claire McCardell was only after selling a few McCardell designs. She found the quandary of explaining the differences in size labels over the years too difficult - "very few people want to hear that today's size eight was once a fourteen" - and began snipping sizes out of garments. And she recounts the tension involved in haggling with customers, as well as having customers bid up other shoppers for choice pieces.

Buy This Book

Alison is a true fashionista, having walked the runways of Paris long before she became a student of vintage clothes. Her relationships with clothes are passionate and practical at the same time. In one anecdote that reads like a rite of passage, Alison was coaxed into buying a $2000 Hermes jacket while a fledging model making her first real wages. After many enjoyable and impressive wearings, the realization about her purchase was a mature one - "I also have come to realize that I've spent much more, in smaller increments, on countless piece of clothing that are long gone and forgotten. Applying fashion math, I have no regrets about my Hermes fling". In later years, she continues to weave stories of favorite vintage finds next to anecdotes about the development of her store. While these are also a treat, including pictures of these clothes would have been worthy eye candy.

Throughout this book, Alison's philosophy shines through as earnest and down-to-earth regarding her mission, business expectations and style of dressing. In business, she finds nothing is perfect, including competition and location. In fashion, she believes "dressing is an adventure, not a chore", even on the days when you appraise your outfit and wonder what went wrong before you left the house. As a shopowner, she is able to play the gleeful matchmaker, finding clothes for "people who see a future for something from the past". The promise of eternal dress-up is an enticing one in this book, and a light read the fashion hound will enjoy.