Once again, I’m sharing photos over a month late. I wish I could claim some fashionable reason for holding onto them: affecting coquetry, perhaps, or waiting for Mercury to exit retrograde. Nope – I’m just busy as hell. And social media, as always, has two equally sharp edges. I like being able to share momentary snaps when a full blog post isn’t feasible – when things are all or nothing, it’s too easy to default to “nothing”. The middle ground is welcome.
On the other hand, with Instagram at my fingertips, it’s easy to forget why I choose “old media” in the first place. At heart, I truly don’t believe 140 characters or a single phone-size shot is enough. “Why blog when I can ‘gram?” is a fallacy of a question. They’re totally different experiences. And I agree with Nora – I’d rather experience longform.)
Anyway. On the cusp of summer’s end, I’m posting my fourth annual Ogunquit pinup shots. (Previous years’ here, here, and here.) Swimwear is the one arena where I’ll absolutely choose repro over true vintage. Not that I’d kick a ’50s maillot outta bed, but – I love to swim. I’m not a sunning type, and I respect vintage fabric too much to torture it with salt and sand. I’m also too infrequent a beachgoer to spend $100+ on a suit. My $25 “vintage-inspired” versions from the Amazon warehouse are good enough for me.
And I fully admit that I bought this particular colorway to make “wine-dark sea” puns all trip long.