The vintage returns, always
Text Giacomo Andrea Minazzi
Is the memory something you have or something you have lost forever? Bion – a twentieth-century English psychoanalyst – wrote that a thought is formed as a result of the lack of an object of love already met, as an instrument to tolerate the frustration of such absence. The answer would seem to be served.
Living a non-ours era, living in remote places, cities when men wore hats, green loden overcoats, walking sticks, ladies’ evening dresses – Midnight in Paris. Nostalgia is a typical feeling of our time – pay attention that it does not become melancholy. It is true, the fabrics of the past are no longer there – not even the half seasons, if you want – just try to see. Wide trousers in cool wool, worn a hundred times, yet still like new, the real Levi’s jeans. The finish of a jacket, a Rolliflex film, a great-grandfather’s trunk.
Nowadays everything is ephemeral, the five minutes of Andy Warhol, the fast fashion, the stories of twenty-four hours, but there is also an inverse direction. There is the search for something that takes and does not fade. Not a dead memory, something still alive. Something that continues a started journey. Immortality – the children, an idea – is in the passage. There is this desire – and desire is also in place of a lack – to leave a mark, perhaps instead of finding a sign to read. It is not anachronism, without our history we are nothing.
Perhaps this is the sense of the explosion of vintage: the desire to carry on a story, to refuse the ephemeral and temporary, to seek belonging. The coats of the fathers passed to their children, not sought in the wardrobe, but in a shop in Via Gian Giacomo Mora. Grandma’s Sunday teacups in the market on the Navigli.
Perhaps, instead, this costs only less.
Mercatone dell’antiquariato sul Naviglio Grande
Alzaia del Naviglio Grande
Photography Gabriella Corrado and Sogol Sobhi