Does vintage clothing attract a rude/violent response?

[Edward]

Last night I was walking down the South Bank with a friend, having just been to the Globe to see the current production of Anne Boleyn (superb - do check it out if you are in town). Some skateboarding kid said I looked like "a guy in Danny the Champion of the World. Not the good guy, the bad one". Wasn't aggressive at all; I found it funny. I was wearing a newsboy, brown Aero Thirties halfbelt, shirt & tie, wide legged trews and a pair of co-respondents. So long since I read the book I don't recall what the character he meant wore, but the kid wasn't far off in terms of period anyhow.

 

[rue]

Oh lordy, if that blue straw bonnet had any floral decoration, there could have been bloodshed!

No but it does have a bow :eeek: lol

As a follow up to this ..... after getting giggles in Las Vegas, AZ and then yesterday, I was beginning to think I was doing something wrong. But, today as I was running errands, I ran into a acquaintance of mine from car shows that models for pin-up pics and she was with her photographer. Anyway, he asked me if I had a photographer and at first I was confused, but then he asked if I didn't then he would love to do a shoot with me, because I had a great vintage look. I started laughing and said I just look like this, I'm not a model. I would never do anything like that at my age, so I politely refused, but it sure made me feel much better, although it did crack me up

 

[rue]

Last night I was walking down the South Bank with a friend, having just been to the Globe to see the current production of Anne Boleyn (superb - do check it out if you are in town). Some skateboarding kid said I looked like "a guy in Danny the Champion of the World. Not the good guy, the bad one". Wasn't aggressive at all; I found it funny. I was wearing a newsboy, brown Aero Thirties halfbelt, shirt & tie, wide legged trews and a pair of co-respondents. So long since I read the book I don't recall what the character he meant wore, but the kid wasn't far off in terms of period anyhow.

I have no idea what movie that is, but you always look dashing Edward

 

[Edward]

I have no idea what movie that is, but you always look dashing Edward

Why, thank-you!

It's an old UK made-for-TV adaptation of the Roald Dahl book of the same name (at least, that's the only screen version I can find). Made in 1989, set in 1955. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097152/ I would say I looked reasonably 40s yesterday, which would be about in line with the villain of the piece. As I recall he was the sort of later middle-aged gentleman who would have dressed fairly 40s even in the mid 50s.

 

[rue]

Why, thank-you!

It's an old UK made-for-TV adaptation of the Roald Dahl book of the same name (at least, that's the only screen version I can find). Made in 1989, set in 1955. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097152/ I would say I looked reasonably 40s yesterday, which would be about in line with the villain of the piece. As I recall he was the sort of later middle-aged gentleman who would have dressed fairly 40s even in the mid 50s.

You're welcome

Oh geez, I can't believe I forgot about that... Roald Dahl is my daughter's favorite author :eusa_doh:

 

[Edward]

Heh. It's not his best known book, though.

 

[rue]

Ahhh... but she has every book, so I still should have known

 

[V.C. Brunswick]

An even lesser-known work of Dahl is the official wartime history of MI6 of which he was one of the authors.

 

[rue]

An even lesser-known work of Dahl is the official wartime history of MI6 of which he was one of the authors.

Okay maybe not all lol

 

[V.C. Brunswick]

And I do have that book.

 

[MisterCairo]

No but it does have a bow :eeek: lol

As a follow up to this ..... after getting giggles in Las Vegas, AZ and then yesterday, I was beginning to think I was doing something wrong. But, today as I was running errands, I ran into a acquaintance of mine from car shows that models for pin-up pics and she was with her photographer. Anyway, he asked me if I had a photographer and at first I was confused, but then he asked if I didn't then he would love to do a shoot with me, because I had a great vintage look. I started laughing and said I just look like this, I'm not a model. I would never do anything like that at my age, so I politely refused, but it sure made me feel much better, although it did crack me up

What does age have to do with anything?????

 

[rue]

And I do have that book.

You're a boy

What does age have to do with anything?????

Oh nothing really, except, I'm a middle aged woman and I would feel silly [huh] That's just me though.

 

[C-dot]

I went to see a Shakespeare in the Park production of A Winter's Tale last night, wearing a plain black shirt and burgundy circle skirt (no crinoline) and flats. While I grabbed a chocolate bar before the play, I heard this girl say to her boyfriend "some people have to have all the attention," obviously referring to me. I wasn't going to respond, but my take-no-prisoners aunt intoned "At least she doesn't have to work for it!"
That changed her tune lol

 

[Puzzicato]

I now have a crush on your aunt! She sounds great!

 

[C-dot]

I now have a crush on your aunt! She sounds great!

She is! I wish I caught the sharp-tongued gene

 

[Rats Riley]

^^There is just no need to open one's mouth for the sole purpose of putting down someone else for what they're wearing. We all know it's a worthless, passive aggressive act in an effort to feel better about themselves. They don't stand out in a crowd, and by golly, they will see to it that no one else will either. Still, it's hurtful.

I work for the gov't and we're mandated to take furlough days off without pay because of budget cuts. One Monday I was dressed in vintage: yellow peep toe pumps, a black and white dress and a blue cropped cardigan. Sun was out, it was a nice day, I had a bit of a spring in my step... and I walked past two women in dressed-down office wear and one loudly says, "THAT's who they should furlough!" Huh? What did I do? My clothes weren't expensive, I'm polite to people, I don't put on airs... why did they say that? They didn't know me, or what I do (and I guarantee you, there's no way they would or could do my job). I went to my office and darn if it didn't bug me for a couple of hours. So, bottom line, I know how you feel!

That just boils my blood! Such typical school yard crap... What's funny is that one of them had to say it, even if the other didn't agree! Then the other woman is stuck there between a rock and a hard place, wondering if she should speak up. Courage to speak your piece? Not with her obviously. Sounds like she had more issues than what you were wearing. You were just a reason to vent her anxiety.

I personally think you should have thanked her for such a wonderful comment and told her to be sure to have a lovely day!

 

[Nobert]

My favorite story in this vein comes from last year as I was walking out of the grocery store dowtown, near the square where Portland's many crazies and drunks tend to hang out. It was midsummer, and I was looking a bit dandyish: orange shirt, linen pants, light blue jacket, pink and navy tie and a Panama hat. There was a short, hirsute fellow in a tank-top on the pay phone outside and as I walked by he said, "You look like my father! My father is dead!" Thinking that he was yelling at someone on the phone, I walked past, but he chased me down and and said "Hey! My father used to dress like that! Are you mocking him? He's dead!"

Taken aback could hardly describe my reaction. I managed to squeeze out some riposte like, "Huh?"
"Take off those clothes!" he ordered me. I didn't smell liquor on his breath, and he was as up in my face as much as a man six inches shorter than myself could be, his spittle dotting the knot of my tie. So he was clearly not right in the head. He wanted to take me over to the square and fight me, despite my attempts to walk away. In the heat of the moment, I found I could formulate no rational argument to counter the charge that I had deliberately dressed myself that morning in a callous attempt to disparage the memory of the late father of someone I had never met. Afterward, in the cool light of deliberation, I realized that, of course, there isn't one.

I finally managed to look him in the eye and inform him that I had no idea who he was and to get out of my way. He backed down long enough for me to beat a retreat, with this deranged toadstool of a human being still shouting threats at my back.

That's the most violent, not to say the oddest and possibly most amusing, reaction I've ever had to my taste in dress.

 

[rue]

I went to see a Shakespeare in the Park production of A Winter's Tale last night, wearing a plain black shirt and burgundy circle skirt (no crinoline) and flats. While I grabbed a chocolate bar before the play, I heard this girl say to her boyfriend "some people have to have all the attention," obviously referring to me. I wasn't going to respond, but my take-no-prisoners aunt intoned "At least she doesn't have to work for it!"
That changed her tune lol

That's just plain jealousy rearing it's ugly head. I'm glad your aunt said something

My favorite story in this vein comes from last year as I was walking out of the grocery store dowtown, near the square where Portland's many crazies and drunks tend to hang out. It was midsummer, and I was looking a bit dandyish: orange shirt, linen pants, light blue jacket, pink and navy tie and a Panama hat. There was a short, hirsute fellow in a tank-top on the pay phone outside and as I walked by he said, "You look like my father! My father is dead!" Thinking that he was yelling at someone on the phone, I walked past, but he chased me down and and said "Hey! My father used to dress like that! Are you mocking him? He's dead!"

Taken aback could hardly describe my reaction. I managed to squeeze out some riposte like, "Huh?"
"Take off those clothes!" he ordered me. I didn't smell liquor on his breath, and he was as up in my face as much as a man six inches shorter than myself could be, his spittle dotting the knot of my tie. So he was clearly not right in the head. He wanted to take me over to the square and fight me, despite my attempts to walk away. In the heat of the moment, I found I could formulate no rational argument to counter the charge that I had deliberately dressed myself that morning in a callous attempt to disparage the memory of the late father of someone I had never met. Afterward, in the cool light of deliberation, I realized that, of course, there isn't one.

I finally managed to look him in the eye and inform him that I had no idea who he was and to get out of my way. He backed down long enough for me to beat a retreat, with this deranged toadstool of a human being still shouting threats at my back.

That's the most violent, not to say the oddest and possibly most amusing, reaction I've ever had to my taste in dress.

That's so scary! I'm glad it didn't lead to violence. I would have been scared to death :eeek:

 

[_Nightwing]

My favorite story in this vein comes from last year as I was walking out of the grocery store dowtown, near the square where Portland's many crazies and drunks tend to hang out. It was midsummer, and I was looking a bit dandyish: orange shirt, linen pants, light blue jacket, pink and navy tie and a Panama hat. There was a short, hirsute fellow in a tank-top on the pay phone outside and as I walked by he said, "You look like my father! My father is dead!" Thinking that he was yelling at someone on the phone, I walked past, but he chased me down and and said "Hey! My father used to dress like that! Are you mocking him? He's dead!"

Taken aback could hardly describe my reaction. I managed to squeeze out some riposte like, "Huh?"
"Take off those clothes!" he ordered me. I didn't smell liquor on his breath, and he was as up in my face as much as a man six inches shorter than myself could be, his spittle dotting the knot of my tie. So he was clearly not right in the head. He wanted to take me over to the square and fight me, despite my attempts to walk away. In the heat of the moment, I found I could formulate no rational argument to counter the charge that I had deliberately dressed myself that morning in a callous attempt to disparage the memory of the late father of someone I had never met. Afterward, in the cool light of deliberation, I realized that, of course, there isn't one.

I finally managed to look him in the eye and inform him that I had no idea who he was and to get out of my way. He backed down long enough for me to beat a retreat, with this deranged toadstool of a human being still shouting threats at my back.

That's the most violent, not to say the oddest and possibly most amusing, reaction I've ever had to my taste in dress.

This sounds like the kind of guy who really wants to be punched in the nose or headbutted or something because he's on the verge of a breakdown, and if you had then you'd probably have ended up great friends afterwards. After you'd ruined your pocket square stopping the blood. So it's good job that you didn't, because deranged friends are a lot of trouble even when they're the opposite sex, plus the ruined pocket square.

 

[Puzzicato]

That's the most violent, not to say the oddest and possibly most amusing, reaction I've ever had to my taste in dress.

That is odd. And the problem with the crazies is you can't know how they will react to anything you say. I'd have been tempted to say "I am not mocking him - I respected your father greatly and he didn't raise you to talk to strangers this way!" but yeah, that might have opened up a whole other mess.