Tag Archives: Store B Vintage

Store B Vintage

I’m not really sure when this vintage crave started within the Robinson household, but both me and my husband are hooked. By now we’ve done it it all: thrifting, garage sale, and some old fashion vintage boutique shopping.  My favorite of all? Garage sale (you can’t beat $2 for a Banana Republic belt) but it’s not often we can take the time to crash a garage sale. Next on the line comes vintage boutique-ing and Store B Vintage in Wicker Park has already entered my top 10 list (which right now is looking more like top 3, but give it time, I’ll get there)

I mean, how do you pick a best part between shopping for vintage houseware, hats, other accessories of all sorts, clothes, and all? You just don’t. I just don’t! The people running this boutique have a clinical eye, I’m telling you. You can find just about anything vintage you’ve been looking for but can’t find anywhere. And the prices aren’t so bad either. I left the store in possession of a pair of vintage earrings, heart shaped sunglasses, and guess who’s come to mama? Remember this little guy from the mad hatter post? It’s mine.

The verdict: If you’re looking for a vintage hat, for a really good price this is the place to be. Their house-ware section is also worth a look, as well as their vintage suits, scarfs and bags. By now, I’ve become a regular.

Where? 1472 N Milwaukee Ave(between Evergreen Ave & Honore St) Chicago, IL 60622

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Am I Mad Or What?

For someone who grew up wearing nothing on my head but hair elastics, maybe a headband when pushing it,  I’m making huge improvements. Never  in my twenty something years (you didn’t think I was going to reveal my actual age here, did you? I’m a type cast) of life did I think I’d be wearing hats, actual hats on my head. Better yet, vintage hats. This is so exciting. I feel British, I feel mad hatter!

At first I was just trying these on, which quickly became choosing one to go home with. Hey, I deserved it! It was a gift for my unbirthday.

Sorry about the whitish stripe running down my face in nearly every click. I blame the mirror keeper at the shop, whoever that may be. Windex, people! Once in a while.