By Tricia Y. Petrinovich
Every fashion trend seems to regurgitate. Think neon, wide pant legs, and plaid. True, some things should never be allowed to see the light of day again (you know I’m talking about you, 1980’s shoulder pads). Other items are dusted off, given a fresh coat of paint – or the fashion equivalent of a Botox treatment – and hung back onto department store rounders for us to buy (while we kick ourselves that we ever got rid of Version 1.0). You might wonder who makes the determination of what to recycle and how the laborious process is conducted. I am glad you asked. After literally minutes of in-depth investigation (and an over-healthy reliance on my ability to make crap up) I’m going to disclose this super secret process to you. Directly next to the underground chamber where Nicholas Cage found the Templar’s Treasure, there is a second deep cavernous vault where all-things-fashion are locked away once they’ve exhausted their life cycles. Then someone (and my guess is that it’s a custodian named “Lester”) randomly filters through the sagging shelves and plucks something out of the pile. While blindfolded. He then pulls out his super secure hacker proof cell phone, calls his buddy Jimmy Choo (they were in the 3rd grade together), and voila! Instantly a model named Gigi is wearing it on a Paris runway. First, I tell you this so you know that Lester, the janitor, is literally the dude picking out your outfits. Second, I give you this as background to my revelation that Lester’s 2014 pick is in, and yes, it is the pin. Or brooch, if you prefer.
Personally, I have always loved pins. They add weight to my front-side, which could almost make me believe I have boobs, or at least one boob, depending on which side I place the pin. (Trust me, if all women were built like me, the brassiere industry would be defunct). I also love the obvious about pins: They add a little pop to what might be plain. Some razzle in order to dazzle. Plus, you can strategically place them over the mustard stain from the hot dog you ate at lunch. As soon as I learned it was the Year of the Pin – and knowing I wanted to be in style during it – I frantically accosted my jewelry box to re-discover my own collection. It turns out it is small and select, which is strange considering my propensity toward over-collecting anything that is (or ever was) in fashion. Don’t get me wrong – I definitely used to have more pins than the four I found. But I probably discarded the rest of my inventory during some ridiculous closet overhaul project that I allowed myself to engage in. (Note to self: Don’t listen to those idiots who say that every time you buy something you need to get rid of something. They are probably getting a kickback when I have to re-purchase what I just gave away.) Still, I know why, out of them all, I kept the four pins that live in my own accessory vault. Each of them has that je ne sais quoi, which is French for “pokey thing in the back that can impale you.”
Those are the four I have, and I don’t know if they will all see the light of day this year, but I might just make that a mid-year resolution, much like my newfound commitment to eating more Fritos. Meanwhile, I hope I have demystified the origins of recycling fashion trends while instilling a spark in you to dig out your own pin collection and see what is fit for public consumption. Maybe you need to visit some antique stores, garage sales, thrift shops or the local department store to select a special pin that will make the grade? It doesn’t have to make a statement or tell a story, but it should be an enjoyable piece to wear any number of ways. And if it isn’t, feel free to unpin it, then call Lester and tell him where to stick it.
