How eBay Made Me The Woman I Wanted To Be At 20 (at 30)

Scarlett Johansson opens the Spring 2006 Imitation of Christ show in New York City. 

I fell in love with Imitation of Christ in college. It was 2005, my senior year, and I was running around Boston in skinny jeans and ballet flats but in New York, Tara Subkoff was introducing denim to her collection. Launched five years earlier, Chloe Sevigny served as the brand’s first Creative Director, showing reproduced vintage in an East Village funeral parlor. Scarlett Johansson opened the spring 2006 show wearing skintight high-waisted jeans and a sheer black tank top. With red pumps, vivid lipstick, and a wavy pompadour—it was both retro and modern and everything I wanted to be.

The pieces sold for (what I then thought were) astronomical prices at Barneys, the store of my suburban dreams. For a minute, I actually considered splurging on what I considered the piece de resistance, a dark denim romper that buttoned up the front, with overall straps and a nipped waist. But the most expensive thing I’d bought up until that point was a pair of 7 for All Mankind jeans from Stink, a local boutique in Petaluma, and I’d saved all my waitressing tips to drop those $99. Three hundred plus on a denim romper was out of the question.

And so I didn’t, but a friend did, and I was green with envy. Eventually, we both moved to New York. A few years in, she handed it over. I wore it everywhere that summer—to BBQs, dinners, even my birthday party. It made me feel all the ways I’d imagined: cute, cool, but also a little sexy. I moved to LA; it came with me. Our friendship was ending, but she came to visit and when she did, she took it back. (She wanted the outfit for a weekend with her married lover and said she’d send it back after, but we never really spoke again.) That’s when the eBay search began. I’d sporadically log on to the site and type in “Imitation of Christ + denim + overalls.” I found an extra small once, but never my size. If ever in a vintage or thrift store, I’d haphazardly flip through the denim section looking for the silver buckles, or the triple cross embroidered over the back pocket.

Eventually, I gave up.

Last week I logged on to eBay to sell something for the first time, a Mansur Gavriel bucket bag from their first collection that I hoped would pay for at least one of the glittering Valentino shoes I’d gifted myself as an early birthday present. (You could say I have a shopping problem, or you could say I find creative ways to fuel my love of shoes; depends on if you’re a half full or half empty kind of person!) This time around I’d done a deeper dive into eBay’s fashion archives and gushed over what I’d found to a colleague at work the next morning. “I’ve only ever used eBay to search for one thing, but there is so much on there!” What thing, she asked. And so I typed, “Imitation of Christ + denim + overalls” into the search box and boom, there it was. My size, in Brooklyn, buy it now for $65, finally mine ten years later.

I love it as much now as I did then. But just past the excitement of owning it was the worry: Should I be wearing the outfit at 30 that I craved at 20? Or, conversely, was I so in touch with my style at 20 that I knew what I’d like forever? (Doubtful, since I also desperately wanted a Marc Jacobs Stam bag and was sure that a white Hanes cotton tank top was appropriate for nearly every occasion.) Really, how satisfying is getting the one that got away when you’re a different person when you get it?

Very, it turns out. After giving my beloved purchase a place of pride in my wardrobe this season (and plenty of wearings), I can just tuck it away for another 10 years. Then, at 40, I may break it back out—except this time, without all the work. After all, everything comes back into fashion at some point, right?

Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest for nonstop inspiration delivered fresh to your feed, every day.