The House of Rose

By any measure, my aunt Rose, a playful, colorful, rebellious, golden-haired beauty who stood out everywhere she went, was unique. It made sense that Bloomingdale’s chose her to design its store windows in the ’30s and ’40s. I worked in her and her daughter Christine’s clothing business as a young teen, where I was introduced to the allure and staying power of vintage clothing — dazzling beaded flapper dresses, WWII leather bomber jackets, brilliant floral Hawaiian shirts, denim jeans from around the world and studded velvet hot pants. My passion for all things vintage, including clothing, can be traced to those moments.

So, it is no surprise that, when strolling through downtown Wilmington soon after moving here, we happened upon Rosie Revolution, a vintage clothing emporium on Front Street whose mod storefront signage and alluring window displays caught my attention. As compelling as the endless variety of vintage clothing was, Rose Villa, its owner, made it quite clear (and very quickly) that her place, run by her children, was as much about relationships and community building as it was about vintage clothing and accessories. I had to know this woman, so, naturally, I invited myself to her home.

Strapping In

After passing the brimming koi pond, lush garden and gauntlet of howling Chiweenie watchdogs, I knew I was in for an adventure. If this kaleidoscopic, multisensory space was in any way a projection of Rose’s inner world, then I was convinced this might be one of the places my own aunt Rose’s creative spirit landed.

Rose — corporate accountant for Wilmington’s Wave Transit by day — and her husband Mike’s (an engineer who specializes in strain gauges) space was alive, organic and imbued with a restless spirit of creativity — a wellspring of paintings, collages, sculptures, tribal masks, Mexican tilework and, of course, vintage clothing of all fabrics, colors, eras and styles. Also on display was her keen sense of humor and irony, captured in intricately colored-pencil drawings with titles like “I Have Friends in Low Places” and “The Bipolar Twins,” a nude statue of Eve with a southward-slithering snake, and “the nipple room,” so named for reasons I will leave to the imagination. If Rod McLuhan’s axiom, “the medium is the message,” still holds sway, it was received loud and clear as she led me from wall to wall, from room to room.

Threads That Bind

The threads that held this menagerie together were as richly textured as she was. A haunting landscape painted by her Italian maternal grandfather and framed by her woodworking Romani paternal grandfather, both winemaking immigrants, hangs in her home. Her background as a multi-instrumentalist whose genealogy traces to Tunisia, Egypt, Italy and Morocco makes sense. Her father used to say, “When you’re a Gypsy, you have a piece of everybody.”

While Rose loves the hunt, frequenting auctions and estate sales, her own sartorial creations (hats, scarves, coats and dresses) come alive in her garage workshop, complete with seven sewing machines (one of each color, of course). As for her mind-bending collection of oddities, Rose credits her father, who worked as a garbage collector when he arrived in the U.S. and would often bring his work home with him, one interesting object at a time. Her mother was a multi-textile seamstress who was equally at home with crocheting, knitting, beading and, of course, dressmaking. Learning as much as she could from her mother, and largely self-taught, color, complexity, collecting and needlecraft were Rose’s genetic destiny.

Rosie Revolution

After closing R.C. Moore, her vintage and millinery shop in Bethlehem, where she created impromptu support groups for cancer and domestic violence survivors, Rose opened her namesake on Front Street three years ago. Asserting that “my calling has always been for human rights,” the shop, aptly named, is Rose’s “revolution against hatred.” The space dates to the ’40s as Mademoiselle, a clothing boutique. There, with her son Matthew Pifer, who loves connecting people, clothing and stories, and her stepdaughter Savannah Bower, who is inspired by Rose’s eccentricity, strength and creativity, they merge past and present, knitting together the community, one piece of clothing, one quirky, colorful accessory at a time.

While Rosie has supplied vintage clothing to the likes of Anne Roth, who won an Oscar for costume design for “The English Patient,” she has also contributed her fashion wares locally. She provided clothing to a local film company for Hulu’s “R.J. Decker” series and Amazon’s Wilmington-based teen rock band show, “The Runarounds.” In the spirit of giving back, Rosie Revolution donates a percentage of its sales to local organizations, including The MOB Theater Company, The Warming Shelter and the Cape Fear LGBTQ Center.

Before leaving Rose and Mike’s house after my visit, she had to tell me about her latest “clothing” project: a skirt and top made from soy and duck sauce packets, held together by aerospace-grade polyamide tape, a unique union of aesthetic and utility — just like her. When I asked her why, she simply said, “Because I can.” Made perfect sense to me.

Visit Rosie Revolution’s Instagram page, @rosierevolution or her website rosie.revolution.com.