Here's a short piece (one of my shortest, actually) that was inspired by this little gem from the Comment Fic community on Live Journal: "author's choice, author's choice, Everything comes back into style eventually. (or: When did my old stuff become "vintage"?)". I thought of Linda as soon as I read it, and the story practically wrote itself. Enjoy, and be sure to let me know what you think!

Linda Flynn-Fletcher walked into the thrift store, smiling as she took in the mid-sized store that was off the beaten path. She liked to come by the place once or twice a month to check on their inventory; she'd found quite a few hidden gems for the antique store that way. There was a comfortable atmosphere she enjoyed as well as a friendly staff. The stop was definitely not an unwelcome chore.

The redheaded woman took her time wandering around, taking closer looks at anything that caught her eye. Her meanderings eventually brought her over to the clothing racks. She came across a rack full of wedding dresses first; she smiled as the silky fabric reminded her of her wedding to Lawrence, one of the happiest days of her life. Another rack full of holiday sweaters had her smiling for a different reason. She shook her head and resisted the urge to go through them.

Linda shook her head again as she walked up to the main racks. She snickered. She could tell the eighties were trying to make a comeback; she remembered wearing styles just like what she was looking at. Too bad people didn't realize there was a reason they went out of style in the first place.

Her chuckles cut off abruptly when she brought her gaze up and saw the sign on top of the rack, however. Bright neon-colored letters in a rounded font tried to grab people's attention by declaring "Check it out! It's 80s VINTAGE!". Below the bold words was the picture of someone who was far too familiar to Linda, someone she was sure the owners associated with a stereotypical 80s style. The almost shoulder-length red hair had been teased out to double its volume, a light blue with pink polka dot hair band sporting a large bow cocked to the left side. There were large gold hoop earrings dangling from the earlobes. There was a waist-length denim jacket with a few round pins on the collar over a tank top in two shades of purple that showed of a smooth, lean stomach. There was a light blue layered mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, and light purple leg warmers that matched on of the shades of the tank top. There were white clunky-heeled shoes. And there was a wide white belt with a huge buckle that said "toy".

She was staring at Lindana.

"Oh my gosh," Linda muttered, her eyes wide. "I'm vintage!"

All the wind was knocked out of her sails with that realization. She suddenly felt old. Shoulders drooping, she turned away from the clothing racks and began to head for the door. This shopping trip was over.

But before she could get more than a few steps away, a pair of energetic teenage girls rushed by her, their goal obviously the racks she wanted to leave behind. "Oh, yeah!" one of them exclaimed. "Vintage!"

"This is so cool!" the other girl agreed.

Linda paused and looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the first girl grab her friend's shoulder and point at the sign. "Look at her!" she squealed. "She looks so good!"

"Let's see if we can find stuff like that!" the other girl said.

Linda found herself grinning as the two teenagers started sorting through the racks. So she was cool, huh? She looked good? She could live with that.

With a light heart and an extra spring in her step, Linda headed out of the store. She was so going to treat herself to a double scoop blue moon ice cream cone. She was going to celebrate being iconically vintage.