"Where did you get that?"

Several visitors asked me that as we toured the city. Another weaponized her partner. Over dinner, Jacquie said, "Sandra wants to know where you buy your clothes—that top you wore last night, for example." 

As I answered Sandra's question, I felt mildly embarrassed.

My unease is rooted in family etiquette. An inquiry about provenance was considered "being nosy", a transgression Mom ranked just below ax murder. If a compliment did not elicit the information ("What a pretty dress, I've never been able to find that colour!" "Oh, it's from Welling's."), you dropped it. A French friend has no use for subtlety; deft as a pickpocket, she will pull my collar back to check the label. I told her to just ask.

And yet, gobsmacked by something great, watch me do the same thing!

At a street market, I saw a curvy, auburn-haired woman in a shirtdress that made her look like an Art Deco goddess—the interesting colourway of the geometric print, the princess-seamed bodice, the elegant length. When she placed her hand in a pocket, I swooned. As if propelled by another brain, I approached to say that her dress was perfection, that she looked so beautiful yet relaxed, that I sometimes wrote about style, and would she be willing to tell me who made it? 

She said it was the "For the Love of Pockets" dress from Bombshell, a London boutique. She was here for the month and (this was the real surprise), she said, "I packed seven dresses. Just dresses." I was impressed with this approach; why not swoosh about—she's not going hiking!

I realized that usually, the inquirer is longing for sources. She too is trying to find a graceful dress, beautiful fabric. I learned that—if the if label is lofty—the inquirer might assume that I spend all my money on clothes. But half the time, it's more likely new only to me. 

My city has luscious secondhand boutiques (Seconde, Le Dressing, Ruse), who make designers somewhat more manageable, as well as friperies, less refined but always worth a peek.

Left: Jacket, Seconde; top right: detail, Tahari dress, Le Dressing; bottom right: Roger Vivier shoes, Ruse.

When I mention secondhand, a frequent rejoinder is, "Oh, I just don't have the time for that." But I've left so many boutiques in empty-handed exasperation that a secondhand swoop is worth my half-hour. I've been thinking of a navy jacket cut long enough for my height. I am smitten by this Frame blazer, but the price, around $650, is a chunk of change when I am not sure. 

A few days ago, I found similar piece in a Sally Ann for $7! I've tried to shoot it, but it's pesky to photograph, so here I am simply looking pleased with a bargain. 

It does not have the hip raw edges of the Frame jacket, but I can assess its utility and see if the pricey version goes on sale. The label is a Montréal mystery brand, NatalieB—perhaps a short-lived company; I can't find any reference.

If it turns out that I don't want to keep the NatalieB for long, it was the price of coffee and a cookie! But already, I have been asked The Question.