Snowbirds Cast Off Their Inner Fashionistas

I AM a habitué of vintage-clothes shops, and while on vacation here recently, I checked out Sherry’s YesterDaze Vintage, a consignment shop in the Seminole Heights neighborhood that a friend had recommended. I was looking for a dress for Valentine’s Day, and after rummaging through racks of them found three candidates: a white 1970s minidress with flower appliqués and puffed cap sleeves; a black 1960s A-line number with a delicate velvet bow tied under the bust; and a slinky backless blue knit dress that looked as if it had been wrapped around a Studio 54 disco queen.