There are some pieces of vintage clothing that announce themselves immediately. A magnificent gown, an elaborate hat, an embroidered jacket—you know at once that you have found something worth stopping to examine.
And then there are the little pieces. They may look rather ordinary at first glance, until you turn them over, look inside, or discover a label. Suddenly, the garment begins to tell you what it was, when it was made, and sometimes even what the maker imagined the wearer would be doing in it.
That happened with this little red skirt. I knew immediately that I liked the **color**. It is a wonderful, rich red velveteen, the sort of fabric that catches the light and has a depth that photographs don’t quite capture. The skirt is very full, cut in a circle, and underneath is a white crinoline netting layered around the bottom.
It was charming But then I looked at the label.
Nadine Speciality. There it was: **Nadine Speciality**. And beneath the name was a little illustrated figure of a **skater**.
Well, now we had a story.
The label told me something that the skirt itself only suggested. This wasn’t simply a little red vintage skirt that someone happened to wear while skating. It was made as **skating apparel**, and the manufacturer had even incorporated a skater into the label. I love finding details like that. The garment dates to the **1960s**, and it still has its original size tag sewn beneath the main label. Those small surviving details are important to me because they help keep an old garment connected to its original life.
And then there is the construction.
This is a **full-circle skirt**, measuring approximately 73 inches around the bottom hem. At only 14 inches in length, it is certainly petite by today’s standards. But the generous circumference tells us something about what the skirt was intended to do. It was meant to **move**.
A Skirt Made for Movement
I find the underside almost as interesting as the velveteen itself. The white crinoline gives the skirt body and fullness, while the netting around the lower edge adds another little layer of movement. When worn, the red velveteen would have swung outward, allowing the white underneath to become part of the visual effect. And what a color!
Red velveteen was hardly a shy choice. I can imagine this little skirt moving around an ice rink or skating floor, the red fabric catching the light and the white underneath appearing as the wearer moved.
We often think of sporting clothing as purely practical. But skating has always had a bit of theater to it. The clothing could be practical **and** beautiful, and in the 1960s there was certainly room for a little glamour. The metal zipper and double hook-and-eye closure at the back are still intact, adding another bit of period construction to the story.
So Who Would Wear It Today?
This is where vintage clothing becomes particularly interesting. A size 24 and a 14-inch length make this unlikely to be purchased today as ordinary everyday clothing. Its audience is much more specialized. And I think that is perfectly fine. Perhaps it will go to someone who collects **vintage skating clothing**. Perhaps someone is building a collection of sporting apparel or mid-century fashions. Perhaps it will become part of a costume collection or be displayed simply because the garment itself is such a wonderful example of its period.
The modern purpose doesn’t have to be the same as the original purpose. Sometimes **preserving the object is the purpose.** That is one of the things I have learned after years of handling old clothing and textiles. A small garment doesn’t have to be useful in the way it once was in order to be valuable to us now. It can teach us something about fabric, construction, fashion, recreation, manufacturing—or simply about the way people once dressed for an afternoon of fun.
### And Then There Is That Label…
I keep coming back to that little skater. Without it, we might have called this a pretty vintage red velveteen skirt. With it, we know so much more.
**Nadine Speciality. A little skater beneath the name. A 1960s garment made in velveteen, with a full-circle skirt and crinoline underneath.**
It is a tiny piece of information, but it opens the door to the entire story. And that is why I never get tired of looking at labels. They can be the quietest part of an old garment, tucked inside where nobody sees them anymore, but sometimes they are the very thing that brings the garment back to life.
I don’t know who wore this little red skirt. Was she learning to skate? Was she a regular at the rink? Was this something she wore for special skating occasions? Was her mother the one who chose that wonderful red velveteen? Those answers are gone. But the skirt remains. And now, nearly three-quarters of a century later, **that little Nadine label with its skater is still telling us what she was getting ready to do.** Sometimes that is all the history we need. And sometimes, when dealing with old cloth, **one little label is enough to make us stop, look again, and wonder.**