In a fashion world increasingly dominated by fast trends and fleeting styles, vintage curators are pushing back — championing quality, history and individuality. Across the U.S., a growing number of boutique owners and collectors are redefining what it means to dress with intention — one worn-in T-shirt, selvedge jean and chain-stitched jacket at a time.

From New York’s East Village to Seattle’s oldest neighborhood and New Orleans’ eclectic Bywater community, these vintage retailers aren’t just selling clothes — they’re preserving culture, telling stories and encouraging consumers to slow down and value garments that were made to last.

The Curator: Stock Vintage

143 East 13th Street, New York

Stock Vintage founder Melissa Howard wants you to hang on to your clothing.

Located in New York City’s East Village, the vintage emporium is approaching its 20th year of offering carefully curated menswear and accessories from the 1900s to the 1970s to a discerning clientele of locals and international visitors. Here, they can find everything from a collection of 1920s University of Pennsylvania gear by Spalding to a WW1 M911 sweater to a 1970s African American motorcycle vest.

When Howard opened the store in 2006, she already had a customer base from selling at the Chelsea Flea Market in the late ’90s. Many individuals and business owners she met through the flea helped spread word that Stock would become a premier destination for early American menswear. 

“It was word of mouth that brought clients to my store. At the time that I opened Stock the store was one of the few vintage men’s clothing storefronts in New York City,” she said, adding that most social media platforms were not prevalent at the time.

Howard sources garments largely from connections she has made over the years and through vintage clothing shows and flea markets. People also bring her pieces to the store. While she doesn’t focus on brands, some are exceptional for quality and are worthy of being collectibles like Levi’s, Big Yank, Double Wear, Hercules and Buco.

Some of Howard’s best scores were unearthed in the early ’90s, like the time she found hundreds of never-worn Shorthorn Levi’s shirts, gaberdine shirts and Catalina shirts with painted swordfish in a warehouse for $4 a piece.  

“My vision for the store has remained the same since Day One,” Howard said. “I look for pieces with wonderful fabrics and details that stand out. I’ve always tried my best to maintain the integrity of what I bring into the store. The benefit to having my store is that I have clients that are of like minds and appreciate the history of the pieces.”

While Howard’s vision has remained steadfast, the strictly brick-and-mortar store has embraced social media to a degree. Stock Vintage has 24,900 followers on Instagram. However, the same platform has dimmed the excitement of finding a special piece. “It was a bit more enjoyable when you organically found a great piece and there wasn’t any documentation online,” she said.

Pieces from Stock are often plucked by stylists for celebrity editorials for Vanity Fair, Esquire and GQ. From musicians and photographers to designers and artists, the store is a source of inspiration for New York City creatives — not for replicating designs, but for creating new ideas.

“Designers like to look at the stitching, details and how a garment has worn over time,” Howard said. “I think that designers have an affection for older designs because once upon a time, these garments were new ideas and new fabrics, and they were developed all over the world in small factories and small spaces, not mass produced.”

For Howard, being a vintage clothing dealer is a lifestyle, informing how she searches for quality pieces for her closet and home. “My home reflects my store in many ways,” she said. “I love early folk-art objects and furniture. What I sell in my store is also how I live. When I include objects in my store displays, I always try to keep in mind how it relate to the garments that I display to tell a story.”

Collecting is in Howard’s DNA. “My mom has been an antique collector and dealer for as long as I can remember,” she said.

When Howard was 12 years old, her mother opened a store in Michigan selling new women’s high-end clothing and accessories alongside early American furniture. She helped at the shop but eventually stepped away to partner with an existing vintage clothing store.

Howard gravitated to menswear. “Being a bit of a tomboy myself, I have always had an affection for older menswear from the early 1900s to the 1970s,” she said.

Part of the appeal of men’s vintage clothing is its scarcity. Growing up in Michigan, Howard said she would go to estate sales in the early ’90s and the men’s closet was always smaller than the women’s closet. “Women were always bigger consumers of clothing. Men would have a handful of suits that they would rotate week after week and some casualwear for the daytime and weekend,” she said.

Customers who come into Stock Vintage are often amazed that the garments have stayed in good condition. Howard said it’s a testament to how clothing manufacturers of the past focused on building garments to last. What amazes her is how someone chose to save these items and hang on to them for future generations.

Consumers are especially less precious when it comes to men’s clothing. Whereas someone might see the monetary or sentimental value of a woman’s dress or handbag, dungarees and leather belts are often treated with less regard.

“I often ask some of my male customers if they plan to save what they are currently wearing, whether that be Ralph Lauren, J.Crew, sneakers, etc., for their kids in the future, and they usually say no,” Howard said. “This is why it’s amazing that any of us vintage clothing dealers can find the vintage items that we have.”

The Grandmillennials: Low Timers

3207 Burgundy Street, New Orleans

Nestled in New Orleans’ laid-back, artsy Bywater neighborhood, Low Timers is a compact time machine filled with stylized Americana fashion predating the 1970s, vintage signage, old-school trophies and pendants and few taxidermy animals.

Cofounders Ham Smith and Kelsey Christian launched Low Timers online in 2017. The business went analogue in 2019 when they opened the brick-and-mortar store. Appealing to consumers searching for a piece of history, the store has gained a following of visitors hunting for unique souvenirs, designers on inspiration trips and local eccentrics.

“We’ve also been described as eclectic grandpa, which I love. It captures what we specialize in,” Christian said.

Smith and Christian’s respective grandfathers were their catalysts into vintage fashion. Christian said it’s what they initially bonded on and eventually realized they could turn it into a business. “Both of us are obsessed with our grandfathers. They were kind of working class and wore the type of clothes that we now collect and sell. They both passed away when we were relatively young, so I think clothing kept our obsession going. We were both seeking out these things to feel closer to our grandparents,” she said.

“My hobby is now my job,” Smith said. As a teenager, Smith said he would scour thrift stores for the types of button-up shirts, jeans and hats his grandfather wore. “I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for — I just thought it looked cool at the time. And it kind of evolved into making and upcycling clothes. Then I would go to vintage stores, thrift stores and antique stores and just look for stuff that I thought was interesting. It didn’t even have to be my size. It could just be something I thought was cool to look at,” he said. “And then it just kind of snowballed.”

Smith estimates that 95 percent of the apparel they sell is “Made in USA.” Recent denim pieces have included 1950s Big Smith overalls with original repairs, a pair of 1960s selvedge jeans from Foremost, a two-tone 1950s Lee 101-J jacket and 1960s carpenter jeans from Carter’s and Sears, the latter lined with fleece.

Worn-in T-shirts, chain-stitched button-up shirts, faded sweatshirts and knitwear — many with collegiate and varsity motifs — make up the bulk of Low Timers’ assortment. Graphic Ts from pizza shops, hardware stores and other small-town businesses tap into the growing trend for localized merch. Low Timers sells their own “shop shirts,” aka vintage pieces that Smith and Christian customize and upcycle with custom graphics and chain-stitching.

While brands are mostly irrelevant at Low Timers, there are a few heritage names in workwear that get collectors excited. “Levi’s is an obvious one, but I love Sears,” Smith said. “Sears is a highly underrated brand. All those big department stores back in the day had smaller brands like Hercules and JCPenney had Big Mac. Those are my favorites.”

Being part of the vintage community has impacted all aspects of their lives. Christian said they have a greater appreciation for the value and history of vintage fashion, and the process it took the seller to put it back in circulation. Smith added that they tend to pick up clothes for themselves during their sourcing trips instead of buying new ones.

Estate sales, yard sales and connections with rag houses form the backbone of Low Timers’ vintage ecosystem. However, it’s often the sourcing trips to Smith’s home state of Virginia that yield the most obscure brands and rare pieces — items that never made their way down South. According to Smith, vintage Americana fashion serves as a reminder of just how regional the apparel industry once was.

“Where I’m from in Virginia, there weren’t any big department stores, and traveling to a big city was an event,” he said. “It wasn’t something that people did regularly. So, the way that they got clothing was through small general stores that sold groceries and farm supplies. That’s where everyone got their clothes. Manufacturers that were in Virginia or North Carolina basically sold only in Virginia and North Carolina. It wasn’t very common for them to be a national brand.”

Online marketplaces, coupled with the popularity of estate sales for social media content, is changing the vintage market. In the past, estate sales would draw a few early birds for clothing. Now, Smith said there are hundreds of high school and college-age people lining up hours before doors open. Additionally, Christian said sellers are becoming savvier, checking comps on eBay to turn a profit. “Not long ago you could buy a pile of clothing for $10. Now they’re pricing items out piece by piece,” she said.

“I couldn’t tell you how many times in the past year I’ve gone to an estate sale and picked up something like a jacket, and there’s a $150 price tag on it, and it’s something that we would sell in our store for $50,” Smith said. “The pricing is very out of touch, but everyone knows that the vintage business is booming, so they’re going to throw a crazy price out there and hope that someone who doesn’t know any better will pay it. And that keeps driving the prices up.”

However, what newcomers don’t realize is the Golden Rule stating, “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” applies to vintage retail.

“We always try to be as straightforward and fair and honest as possible, and that has been our biggest success,” Smith said. “We don’t want someone to take advantage of us, so we’re not going to take advantage of them, and in turn, we’re given more opportunities to buy.”

The Filson Expert: The Barn Owl Vintage Goods

6012 12th Avenue S, Seattle

Josh Dand, owner of The Barn Owl in Seattle, is preserving a piece of American history — one “Made in USA” T-shirt and pair of jeans at a time. Opened in 2021, The Barn Owl Vintage Goods has become a destination for the finest in vintage workwear, denim and Ts from the 1920s to the 1990s.

Dand’s passion for vintage began early. “My father was a collector. He collected records and books, and that lifestyle kind of led me into collecting the same things as well as vintage clothing. Vintage clothing was kind of how you developed your own style when you were young. I work vintage pieces in with modern stuff and created my own style,” he said.

That approach to styling has struck a chord with his customers. A shared appreciation for timeless fashion brings together The Barn Owl’s wide-ranging clientele — from high schoolers on the hunt for standout vintage Ts to shoppers seeking rare, one-of-a-kind finds. “I think my average shopper is someone who has an appreciation for the well-made goods of the past but also is looking for a modern way to work them into their style,” he said.  

Classic American fashion and workwear is the “meat and potatoes” of The Barn Owl, where consumers can find Levi’s sherpa Type III jackets, Lee chambray shirts, Wrangler gas station jackets, Pendleton and Woolrich flannels, heaps of Filson gear and graphic T-shirts — all “Made in USA.”

“Unfortunately, long gone are the days when there were mills throughout the country. If you look through the history of this country and garment production, it has been people chasing lower labor costs and mills moving from New York to Pennsylvania to North Carolina and South Carolina and then overseas,” Dand said. “The goods that were made in the United States were built to last. So much of what is produced nowadays is meant to be disposable. I would rather repair something and keep it in circulation for decades than to go ahead and buy something new.”

Dand has a special affinity for Seattle-based Filson. In addition to The Barn Owl being the leading source for vintage Filson in the U.S., he has written a guide on dating and verifying vintage Filson. “I’m kind of the preeminent Filson expert,” Dand said. “People reach out to me for verification on pieces.”

Whereas many vintage retailers stay offline, The Barn Owl embraces e-commerce. A dedicated online team powers The Barn Owl’s online business, which Dand said does a “healthy amount” of sales. While investing in e-commerce has paid off many times over, he said there’s “no substitute for being able to develop a relationship with a piece of clothing by coming in, touching it, feeling it, trying it on, seeing how it fits exactly.”

Selling vintage jeans online is especially challenging. When it comes to denim, Dand tends to focus on tops and jackets because they are a “little more universally sized” compared to the various iterations of Levi’s 501s over the years. “I have people come in and spend an hour or two, trying on jeans, going in and bringing stack after stack,” he said. “That’s the only way you can do it.”

Spending time with customers also gives Dand a front-row seat to emerging trends. “The thing that I always find interesting is I have several shoppers from Japan who come through. And in a lot of ways, I follow what the Japanese are buying — that’s the next big thing,” he said.

While vintage fashion often stands in contrast to fleeting trends, Dand says there’s still an ongoing evolution in how it’s curated. “It used to be that I couldn’t sell an Aloha shirt to save my life, and over the past couple of summers, I’ve seen a ton of interest in the shirts. Same with leather jackets. I just had someone in here looking for a vintage 1950s or ’60s leather jacket,” he said.

Jeans, however, are always in the forecast. “I always feel like American-made denim is one of those iconic bits of workwear that people are always going clamor to, and we’ve got the biggest selection in Seattle,” he said.

This article was published in SJ Denim’s “Made in America” issue. Click here to read more.