I'm Fully in My Vintage-Maximalist Era—Here's Where I Source the Best Pieces in L.A.
Jennifer Atilémile is the definition of a woman who does it all. A true multi-hyphenate, she is a model, writer, creative, activist, and intellectual. As an editor in residence, she gives us a behind-the-scenes look at the fashion industry.
If the latest runways are telling us anything, it's that this is going to be a maximalist summer. After years of quiet luxury, stealth wealth, and the same copy-paste minimalist uniform, fashion is finally getting loud again, and I think that's a political act as much as it is a stylistic one.
At a time when so many women are being told, both literally and metaphorically, to shrink themselves, maximalist dressing is a direct rebuke. I've written at length about how we should be using fashion to take up space, especially as a curvy woman, so maximalist dressing, bold colors, and clashing prints are welcomed and intentional. In a world that keeps trying to flatten us into algorithm-friendly beigeness, dressing loudly is one of the most personal forms of resistance (and joy) we have.
My birthday recently passed, and I'm never one to shy away from having a fun time. We just moved into our new home, so I thought, Why not celebrate with a theme that honors my love for maximalist dressing? For me, maximalism isn't just a trend cycle. It's a lifestyle. It's the way I've always wanted to live and always have.
There's a reason the conversation has shifted toward the idea that owning something nobody else has is now the ultimate luxury. It's a subtle flex to have taste that money can't buy. And it's just that—you don't have to have money to have style. Style is something you learn through life experiences, and it's reflective of the fashion mistakes you've made and learned from and how you've evolved as your taste changes. It's something that comes through trial and error and not playing it safe.
Anyone can wear something loud, but to wear it well is an art. A maximalist wardrobe tells me a story about the person wearing it. It tells me you've traveled, that you've picked up jewelry in random bazaars, fur coats in Brick Lane vintage shops, and laces and silks in Paris. But it can also mean you dream of traveling, that you've scoured the internet and unearthed one-of-a-kind bargains on eBay, Depop, and Etsy that nobody else will be wearing at the party.
I've been lucky enough to travel for my job, but before that, I was also scouring the internet for pieces I couldn't find anywhere else.
That's the thing about maximalist dressing that I think people miss: It's not about spending more. It's about looking more—more carefully, more curiously, more intentionally. The best maximalist wardrobes are built over years, not in one shopping spree.
They're archives of a life.
Part of why it was so hard to part with parts of my wardrobe when I moved was because every piece had a story to tell. My clothing held memories of places I'd been, who I once was, and who I maybe one day wanted to be. That's what I love about fashion: expressing myself through how I dress.
Where I Source Mine
Living in L.A. now, I'm surrounded by an abundance of vintage pieces. Whether it's estate sales from Old Hollywood stars, immaculately curated boutiques, or vintage shops I stumble upon during a weekend brunch and neighborhood stroll, L.A. really has it all. You just need to know where to look.
I still believe in gatekeeping. I genuinely think the best way to find the diamonds in the rough is to stumble upon them yourself. That serendipity is part of what makes a piece feel like yours. But since you asked, here's a little list of some of my favorite spots in L.A. to shop vintage, specifically for the kind of maximalist, one-of-a-kind pieces you won't find anywhere else.
Cannonball and Tilly
Its motto is essentially "We don't sell subtle," which tells you everything you need to know. Go check it out for yourself.
Recess LA
This place is a maximalist paradise. It's got the best selection of eclectic jewelry and other accessories. There's no beige to be found.
Ciao Cherub
Tucked away in Los Feliz, Ciao Cherub is a beautifully eclectic mix of high-end vintage, designer pieces, jewelry, and home décor. It's colorful, fun, and a little more wallet-friendly.
Aralda Vintage
It's one of the best vintage stores in L.A., in my personal opinion. If you get an appointment, make a day of it in Beachwood Canyon. Either wait for a table at the Beachwood Cafe, or get the tuna salad at The Oaks, then meander up to Aralda and shop till you drop. My fiancé bought me a beautiful Paco Rabanne necklace from here. That was his eye, so imagine what yours could find.
Squaresville
If you're in Los Feliz, walk over to Vermont Ave and find Squaresville. It's a little vintage paradise. Grab a coffee at Maru, then wander over, or grab a happy-hour martini at Figaro. You'll walk out with something iconic, and I mean it because it'll be one of one.
Lidow Archive
Lidow Archive is a rental fantasyland of over 8000 pieces founded by Haile Lidow, who started collecting as a teenager from L.A. flea markets. If you want eclectic maximalism, this is your spot. It's got a market on June 14. I know I'll be there.
Gift of Garb
This is one of those rare shops that feel like a personal discovery every time you visit because the inventory turns over constantly. I've taken some of my pieces there to sell on consignment. You can find the quieter luxury pieces there, but I love that you can always find the loud ones too. It rewards the regular customer and the patient browser, which, if you ask me, is exactly what good vintage shopping should do.
Replika Vintage
I haven't been to Replika Vintage, but I'm told I must visit, and I think if I did, I'd add it to this list.
That's the list, and I'm sure I'll regret not including a dozen more. Please let me know if I've left some off the list. I'm always looking for great places to shop. But the truth is the best vintage shopping in L.A. and the best maximalist wardrobe aren't just about knowing where to shop. It's about knowing who you are, your style, and how you want to communicate that with the world.
A wardrobe is definitely something you build over time, and I can't wait to have an epic one to hand down to my future children.
As for me? I celebrated my birthday this year with a Slim Aarons-meets-Palm Royale garden party at our new home. If you're going to commit to a maximalist summer, you might as well start with the party. I wore an original dress from the '70s that I picked up in a vintage store in Australia. (I'll save that vintage guide for another day.)
