I’m old enough to remember vintage clothing was a fringe pursuit, tucked away at the edges of fashion. It belonged to those willing to hunt for it—the young, the broke, the counter-cultural, the deeply fluent. Anyone who has unearthed a beloved vintage piece knows the feeling: The slow search was a point of pride, making each find that much more satisfying. Those clothes were never just ironic nods to another era, though I’ll admit that was once part of the appeal for me. Gradually,…

