On a balmy late-summer afternoon, I made my way uptown towards 61st Street and Madison Avenue. Around the corner from the French culinary institution La Goulue, above the boldly seductive lingerie store Agent Provocateur, and behind an oriel window overlooking the heart of American advertising and luxury shopping industries, lies Upper East Vintage.
Founder and CEO Hayden Curtin greets me warmly as she opens the door to her third-floor sartorial parlor. I step through the threshold and enter a reverie of vintage dreams.
Hayden explains that just moments before, she and her digital and operations manager, Worth, were busy rearranging the space for fall, bringing forward richer fabrics and textures.
Clothing racks extend the length of every wall, filled with color-coordinated rows of garments from the 1930s to the 1990s. A large round table at the room’s center is adorned with intricate baubles, bangles and bijoux.
There are surprises at every turn. An embossed brass box handbag with a black cord strap evokes 1940s noir; this Elisabeth Stewart California caftan in a diamond lattice pattern could have just walked off a 1960s runway.
I feel like Hallie, pretending to be her identical twin sister Annie, in the 1998 version of The Parent Trap. Remember the scene where she enters Elizabeth James's bedroom—airy and elegant, with an antique vanity covered in feminine trinkets? Hallie’s fingers graze the delicate perfume bottles, the glimmering double-strand diamond necklace, and a small, framed sketch of a woman’s face.
In Hayden’s shop, my hands move the same way, tracing gold and silver bouclé earrings, iridescent and beaded handbags, and fashion-forward coffee table books used as clever jewelry stands.
Hayden, a native New Yorker with an unerring eye for elegance, is a woman whose reputation for style precedes her. Meeting Hayden is a bit like entering one of her large coffee table storybooks—her conversation is sprinkled with fashion facts that surprise and delight. “I started Upper East Vintage in 2017 out of my apartment,” she says, recounting the shop’s evolution from a Garment District showroom to its current Upper East Side perch.
She watches as I pick up a cotton bomber jacket with a sailboat print, noting with glee that Lilly Pulitzer had a men’s line for a brief stint in the 1970s. Hayden’s predilection for vintage and encyclopedic knowledge of fashion seems fated from the start.
"It's a meandering story," she says with a smile, recounting how her vigor for vintage began in her grandmothers' attics, playing dress-up with pieces from another era. Among her favorites was “a great blue and black fringe flapper gown,” which Hayden whimsically imagined was handed down by “a spicy great aunt,” — a charming notion, indeed.
This early childhood penchant for dress up was more than mere whimsy.
"My great-grandmother was one of the first female executives for Best & Company, a major department store in New York, and on my mom’s side, my grandfather owned the local department store in Oklahoma. Retail has always been in my blood."
Hayden’s fascination with vintage deepened as she entered her teenage years, leading her to her first taste of retail by selling bespoke velvet shoes. “It was totally illegal, in hindsight,” she chuckles, recalling her summer job at just 13 in Bridgehampton, Eastern Long Island.
Eager for some shopping money, she took the job, though she prefers to keep the details of her employer discreet. It was there she “fell in love with the client interaction—finding the perfect slippers for the lady or the man, interpreting what people wanted without being pushy.”
Hayden continues, “Shopping is a very unique experience. Women, in particular, feel embarrassed if they aren’t good at it, because society says that all women should love to shop. That’s stupid. Some people shop because they need to have shoes and clothes and want to look decent, and it’s not about fashion. I like to make people feel like it’s always approachable. I learned that first selling the shoes.”
During high school, Hayden attended a Canadian boarding school, where she and her classmates were required to wear what she describes as “terrible, terrible uniforms.” Ever the stylist, Hayden found a way to turn something terrible into something better than tolerable. “The only way to individualize them [the uniforms] was to find the perfect pair of vintage blue corduroys.” This search marked her introduction to what thrifters lovingly refer to as ‘the hunt.’
After marrying young to her first husband, Hayden reflected, “I didn’t really have a career so to speak in my twenties and thirties.” When she returned to New York, she briefly explored real estate before realizing her true calling lay not in square footage but in something far more familiar.
“Nobody associated me with real estate; they associated me with clothing,” Hayden said with a soft chuckle. “So, after some life challenges, some health stuff, I realized why not do what I love and try to monetize it. That’s when I started Upper East Vintage.”
Kate Naglieri (KN): What is it about the 1930s to the 1990s, and which of those decades is your favorite?
Hayden Curtin (HC): Anything over 100 years old is no longer vintage, it’s antique. To be vintage, it has to be [at least] 20 years old. Technically, the early aughts [of this century] are vintage and I do carry a few pieces from then, but I think I have a mental block against that because I feels like it’s too close.
KN: I was going to ask, will you [willingly] shift that boundary as time moves forward?
HC: I will because I need to keep up with Father Time. The good thing about the vintage world is because fashion is cyclical, the silhouettes repeat themselves.
For example, the 1930s were the original bodycon—you’re seeing a different kind of silhouette. You’re showing off your body in a way that had never been seen before. The 70s was a repeat of the 30s because they were coming out of the stiff, formal 50s and 60s. And the 50s came out of having wealth and more materials after World War II. So, the new look was a celebration of the end of the war. It was over-the-top, frilly. The skirts were absurd, but it was about the excess.
Personally, I like the 30s and the 70s because I think it really matters in terms of detail, in the way the garments were cut, and the quality of the fabrics.
The 80s were a repeat of the 50s, if you think about it. You have those big poofy miniskirts, which aren’t unlike poodle skirts. As for the 90s, I guess we’re going to say, they’re kind of inspired by the Edwardian, military styles.
KN: Well, the 90s are back now. My sister graduated high school in 1999, and I recall the 90s with a lot of nostalgia because it’s attributed to her. It’s humorous to walk around with her and others who were young adults in the 90s and take in their commentary on today’s fashion.
HC: That is honestly very terrifying. Even though it’s my business, it is truly strange to see people wearing the same clothes you wore at that same age. It doesn’t feel like the right timeline, but it is.
There are certain trends though that I think should be worn once in a lifetime. My mother said that to me because I wanted to know why she wasn’t wearing crushed velvet Betsy Johnson bell bottoms in the mid 90s like other moms were. She said, “Because some trends you only do once in a lifetime.” At 43, I can concur that is true.
KN: This next question feels a bit like asking a magician to show her cards, but where and how do you source such impeccable and singular pieces?
HC: It comes down to ultimately what I like. I keep in mind all the various types of clients that I have, whether that means sizing, taste or personality.
I have private clients who want to sell because they’re downsizing, or they’re just over the pieces. Maybe they got divorced and want to let go, and that’s the beauty of vintage is that we’re all just really custodians and guardians of these garments, accessories and jewelry. They’ve stood the test of time. We can only hope they will continue being appreciated by the next person.
I buy at online auctions, from other dealers, occasionally, and the old-fashioned way, you know, garage sales, thrift stores, church basements. I buy whenever I travel and will Google what’s around me. In January, I was in Finland visiting my cousin and I found a bunch of sundresses, which you don’t expect to find in January. I love the hunt; every day is a sourcing day for me.
KN: I love the hunt, too. You almost get into a zone, right? You find your flow and when you find the treasure, it’s like, “Jackpot!” It’s a good kind of high.
HC: It’s a great high! It’s the ultimate.
KN: How has the world of vintage—in New York City—evolved over the years?
HC: To be honest, I don’t think I’m qualified to speak to that because I haven’t been in the industry long enough. There are people who have been in the industry for 50 to 60 years and they can speak to that [better].
Though, I can speak to my own experience. I think the beauty and the curse of vintage is that it’s become so popular. It’s harder to source and find quality pieces, but that also means there’s less waste and more appreciation for them.
It’s been cool to see, since I started the business, the way that vintage is perceived and received in different settings. When I started, it was either seen as gross, like thrift store junk, or totally unattainable, red-carpet gazillion dollar dresses. There was really nothing in between. Now, there are a lot of wonderful mid-range dealers that cater to the everyday person.
KN: Is the world of vintage dealers a tight-knit community?
HC: Yeah, we have vintage friends! I think the great thing about vintage is that everybody is a little bit quirky. Everyone has their own take, and everyone has their own vibe, but we share that common bond. I don’t feel like there’s competition or ill will or feistiness between dealers. Everyone’s default is to appreciate the product. I’ve made a lot of cool friends, who I can bounce ideas off of or go to for sourcing [or] dating help.
KN: Any clients of note who you’ve helped style that you’re able to share with us?
HC: We don’t kiss and tell. But I can say that you’ve definitely seen Upper East Vintage represented on the small screen and big screen, and at a lot of cocktail parties and dinner parties you’ve attended.
I have this weird thing—almost like a doctor’s office—[about] client-stylist privilege. I don’t think it’s my position to tell what other people are spending or give up where other industry people are sourcing their items.
Apparently, there’s some list for costume, T.V. and film people that we’re on. I don’t know where the list lives or who writes the list, but people do approach us because of said list.
KN: You touched on sourcing becoming increasingly difficult, would you say that’s the most challenging part of your job?
HC: Sourcing is getting increasingly more difficult because of the interest, and like I said, it’s a double-edged sword. Honestly, marketing and PR are a challenge because the vintage shopping experience is a very tactile and in-person one. It’s difficult for people to consume vintage like they do a product that you can a) return and b) that you’ve seen represented on a million different people.
We only have one of each [product]. There are probably more in the world, but generally speaking, everything [at Upper East Vintage] is one-of-a-kind. When you purchase it, you’re purchasing this unique, wonderful thing but it’s also like a shooting star. Now, it’s yours. So, that’s a challenge but it’s getting easier because we are coming up with new ways of putting vintage in front of people all the time, through pop ups and trunk shows. Which is great, because I love meeting new people.
KN: That is a conundrum when you think about it in terms of the kinds of ads people scroll through on social media. Everyone has Lululemon pants or a Stanley water bottle; it’s like this check box for people to say, “I have this thing that everyone else has.” Versus another experience where you purchase a one-of-a-kind item few people in the world have. Those are two totally different forms of marketing and messaging. Right now, it seems people are leaning towards the former.
HC: It’s also a convenience and trusted messenger thing. When clients come to us once, they [come to know] what the experience is. If I find something that is perfect for them, I will say, “I found the perfect something for you,” and they will trust me. They know that I’m not just some hack that’s trying to upsell them. It’s just the time it takes to build credibility and a following. I would like to be able to put vintage on everybody I see, but there’s only one of me and one, wonderful Worth.
KN: New York Fashion Week is coming up. I recall you did a post about The Met Gala earlier this year, so I’m curious if you have any predictions for the upcoming seasons.
HC: I love the clothes and the textiles and the way people put together outfits. I buy contemporary clothing all the time. But I’m not really a trend forecaster because I look for evergreen pieces and timeless silhouettes.
Actually, my husband got really mad when I did that red carpet thing because he thought it was me being mean and I’m not really a mean person. So, if I do something like that again, it will only be about the positive aspects of the red carpet. I like to lead with positivity. Not that I can’t be a bitch, I can.
As for predictions, the 90s. Are we going to go back to ring pops and the rave stuff? I think it’s inevitable, if it’s trending the way that my lifetime did.
Now there is a trend I will not be doing: a chain wallet. Didn’t do it the first time around and not doing it now!
KN: You brought that from the archives! And I agree with the 90s, even down to the hair accessories, like the ones that gather all of your hair…
HC: The banana clips! Then we’ll be getting the annoying little barrettes with butterflies. But I mean that’s fun and that’s the beauty of New York and also just the world.
It’s fun to see the way Worth, who’s 23, interprets the same piece that I do. We will style it so differently, and both look great. It just adds to the beauty of the product because it is one-of-a-kind.
KN: You mentioned the difference between evergreen pieces and trends. Perfect example is the jacket I just bought from you. You can tell it’s from the 80s but it’s timeless. What makes a piece so?
HC: Quality. [Your jacket] is an Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche coat. He’s one of my favorite designers of all time. For some reason, as a man, he just understood women and took into consideration female bodies of all shapes and sizes. [He also considered] the way women wear clothing and how they needed to wear clothing, practically speaking, without being athleisure wear. Pre Lycra days.
That jacket is just exquisite. It’s a fun pattern, and it was part of a collection that was inspired by Matisse. The puffy shoulder is super flattering, and I think you’ll enjoy it for a long time to come.
KN: I love the cut of the jacket with the wide “v" neck. It’s a subtle kind of sexy.
HC: Exactly. The power of suggestion.
KN: What advice do you have for people looking to dip their toes into vintage or build their wardrobe to include more evergreen pieces?
HC: Whether you’re trying to establish a new style, or distill what your style is, I would look to what you feel confident in your closet already. If that’s jeans—I wear jeans almost every day—look for denim. If you’re lifestyle dictates that you’re not in frilly day dresses, don’t buy a ton of day dresses. That’s not a good way to introduce yourself to vintage because then it will just be something that sits in your closet and becomes a reminder of a bad choice.
Whereas, if you look for pieces or colors or fabrics that you already know you enjoy, then it makes the racks not as overwhelming. I always tell people to look down at the racks, not up. The hangers smush together, it compresses the garments, especially in thrift stores, and you can’t actually see a lot of what’s in there. But if you look at the bottom of the rack, you can see more of the fabrics.
I care about the hand of fabrics, so I don’t like a lot of synthetics. That’s a personal choice; I don’t buy fabrics that don’t breathe. That usually rules out three-quarters of a rack in a thrift store.
KN: Totally, if you head to Buffalo Exchange or Beacon’s Closet, more and more of the clothes are from Shein or other similar online retail stores. The clothes have a strange smell to them, too.
HC: It’s plastic. It’s microplastics, probably. I mean I shouldn’t say that because I don’t know exactly what microplastics are, but I do know that fast fashion is a big polluter. I mean, all fashion is a polluter. But fast fashion is the guiltiest, guilty party. That said, sometimes it’s a necessary evil. I wish prices could reflect quality, but they don’t.
KN: In terms of presentation, how do you think through styling a newly sourced piece?
HC: I feel like I’m chameleon. In college, some guy asked me if I worked for the CIA because every day, I was dressed completely different. Almost as if I were in character. That’s when Alias was out, so I’m sure that’s what he was thinking.
My mood really determines how I put things together. Essentially, I start with one thing, and I build from there. It could be a color or a belt. Like any other creative endeavor, it’s about layering, and texture and color and shapes.
Then there’s the practical wearability element. I usually mix vintage and contemporary because I don’t like to look costumey. That’s the way we work here, we incorporate vintage into people’s existing wardrobes as opposed to it being for a 70s party or for a themed dinner.
Our clients and customers come to Upper East Vintage for a shopping experience like they would go to any other boutique designer on Madison Avenue. That’s how we like to present things. Everything is in pristine condition, or as pristine as they can be.
We have minimal pieces; I turn over the collections seasonally. When we do pop ups, I buy for the market where we’re going. If we go to Jackson, Wyoming, I’ll bring a lot of chunky knits. If we’re in Palm Beach, I’ll do a mix of color and a simpler silhouette that slides more into that lifestyle.
Personally, I dress the same way. I have my standbys: I love jeans, and I love good tailoring. I love a blazer. I love monotone, but I also love pattern play. It’s about creating the palette on the person and balance, form and that’s kind of it.
KN: Is there a standout piece that “got away?”
HC: There is one dress that I sourced early in my career—an Adini festival dress and it was in the prettiest color, sort of turquoise, pink and purple. It had this metallic thread, and it was so floaty and ethereal. I do think about that dress a lot. It went to a really good home. I’m glad for the dress and I’m glad for the client, but that’s one that I kind of wish didn’t get away.
KN: If you could sum up New York City fashion in one phrase, what would it be?
HC: A never-ending patchwork quilt.
The greatest style is knowing yourself and knowing what works for you. People who follow trends are really just following those tried-and-true people. I think of Diane Keaton; she has her style. She never, ever wavers. Same with Anna Wintour. It may not be for everyone; but it’s those types of people who anchor the neighborhoods of New York.
KN: Things upcoming for Upper East Vintage?
HC: We’re putting together a lot of exciting in store and showroom events for fall and winter:
Cool Cocktails & Cozy Knits: Thursday, October 3 from 6-8 p.m. at the showroom
‘Spree’ at the Shenorock Shore Club in Rye, NY: Wednesday, October 23 from 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m., and Thursday, October 24 from 9:30 a.m. to 4 p.m.
We’re also doing a few pop ups and we’re hoping to be in new markets soon—Charleston, being one of them, and perhaps, Atlanta.
Hayden’s clients may come to shop, but they leave with much more than expected. Her approach to styling feels less like a transaction and more like an intimate exchange with a friend who’s passionate about all things beautiful and rare.
During my personal shopping experience, Hayden moves effortlessly through the collection, recognizing my penchant for 1930s drapey silhouettes, yet gently nudging my curiosity toward pieces that are more structured and modern—broadening my perspective.
It’s always the little things that set a place apart: Hayden carefully folds the Matisse-inspired YSL jacket I purchased, wraps it in crisp tissue paper, and nestles it in a white presentation box. She does the same with the Dominique Aurientis earrings—red enamel and gold-tone—that will usher in autumn, before placing both boxes in a simple white bag, tied with baby blue ribbons and stamped with a delicate emblem, "Upper East Vintage."
For Hayden, dressing clients in vintage is more than a style statement; it's a mission to redefine how we experience these garments, giving them new life and new stories. As she pairs each person with pieces that transcend time, she brings her vision to life, one outfit at a time.
xx
Book a private shopping appointment or peruse the online collection. And follow Upper East Vintage on Instagram for all upcoming events.
Well done!