Silver everything.

I've sold a fair bit of silver in the past month or so. I sold a lot of odd-and-ends sterling jewelry. I sold a set of three sterling soup spoons. I sold a set of matching cufflinks and a tie pin. I'm a fan.

I bought the soup spoons with these knives. I couldn't believe that I actually found sterling spoons, as in, full size sterling silver spoons. I felt like I'd won the freakin' lottery. So when they weren't selling, I spent a couple hours really trying to figure out what the pattern was, since the pattern wasn't matching anything the manufacturer ever made in sterling. Eventually I was able to name the pattern, and that's when they sold. $150 for three spoons. Heavenly.

I'm off to a memorial service in the morning. My bff will be accompanying me for emotional support. I don't know what I'll be walking into, who I'll see from my past, who will be nasty (it's happened before). I'm right on the edge of feeling capable of staying in one solid adult-sized piece the whole time. I will likely be getting pan dulce for the road, with my favorite cafe con canela. Food is inextricably linked to my emotional health (thanks diabetes!). But really, food makes me feel capable in a deeper way than the provision of energy. Food gives me literal and figurative fuel for the journey. Isn't that weird, how something so primitive can become so inextricably linked to who we are?

Chew on that, yo.

Makin' pancakes.

I guess I tend to blog when I'm trying to figure out some big thing in my life. Perhaps when things are good, I avoid overanalyzing. Perhaps things are good because I'm not overanalyzing. Touché.

All the Salvation Armies had "half off everything" sales yesterday, so naturally, I bought a ridiculously expensive camera and am attempting to sell it. Girl's gotta eat yo.

Speaking of eating, I am still eating several burritos daily weekly, but have now been cooking in my new kitchen on a somewhat regular basis. It's hard to get used to having a kitchen. Someone gave me a cookbook for Christmas, and I had the thought, "Does this mean something because you've never actually seen me cook, and I have no food in my fridge?" Asking myself that question was some sort of  necessary therapy, and I'm happy to say that I ate pancakes for dinner this evening.

Last night I listened to Merle Haggard and Waylon Jennings records, whilst listening to someone wax philosophical about the meaning of old school country music. I think at some point there was also dancing, so yeah, life is good :)

Bag o' bling: Part 1 :)

Six pound bag of jewelry from Salvation Army :)

On Monday, I went out to thrift just a little bit, because I didn't want to leave the dog alone for long, and it was a holiday so not all of the stores were open. Salvation Army had a 50% off all clothing sale, but I didn't buy any clothing. I bought some art and this here bag of jewelry.

Now Salvation Army employees are my favorite. They work really hard, and so many of them have told me how much they appreciate their jobs. Sometimes they recognize me and are a little too friendly, but this is not the norm. So Monday, I got in the only line available. All of the employees were taking the day to clean the entire store, so the only line available was with someone who I'd never seen before, selling fifty hardcover books to a well-dressed woman who appeared to be purchasing books for a model home or something.

Now the cashier was slow with the books. All she really had to do was count them, but for some reason she was ringing them up one at a time. The customer was being super patient too. Off to the side was a man with a scraped-up face, who smelled like cigarettes and looked like he may have been drinking. But he was smiling and not bothering anyone, just patiently waiting to buy a new shirt. So I got behind book lady, and the cashier starts to have an anxiety surge of some kind. She turns to face scrape man and says, "The line is over there!" and points to me. She says it several times because he doesn't move very quickly. He doesn't want to crowd model home woman, so he stands off to the side. The cashier starts yelling at him, "That's not the line! This is the line!" and points to me (we're dealing with a very small space, there are carts involved, and clothing racks in the way). I tried to be calm and encouraging to her. The guy was doing his best and not being a nuisance, but she was clearly disturbed by his face and smell and couldn't get over her fear of him. They reached some sort of detente when he started to get frustrated by her ridiculous demands, and she went back to the books.

In the middle of all of this, and a line of three people behind model home woman, a manager came over to get something and said, "Let me know if you need any help, k hon?" The cashier is in so much distress at this point that she can't even respond, and the manager walks away. Face scrape man yells "She needs help!" He rushes over to the manager, points to the cashier, and repeats, "She needs help!"

All three of us in line moved across the store to the other register. When I left, the cashier was still ringing up the books.

Please take a moment to read the most recent news about Syria, and consider making a donation to MCC, currently providing direct aid to Syrian refugees.

Does failing make you a failure?

Original Framed Oil on Canvas Painting

Today I am considering the idea that failing does not inherently make me a failure. I'm a person who wants to make everything right, do everything well. I don't consider myself a perfectionist. I am capable of letting little things go, and not agonizing over little trifles, but in the great land of "Being an Adult", I am finding that these skills only need to be amplified, strengthened, continually over time. It's not like a plateau we reach, where everything after that is straight ahead without potholes.

Perhaps I never would have identified this as a characteristic in myself, but I have been acting as though I'm finished as a person, that everything should be perfect now that I'm a fully functioning adult. I've been living in an imperfect body, with an imperfect mind, and wearing clothing that is imperfect, even selling things that are imperfect. Yet I have been expecting more from myself than I expect from anyone, or anything, else.

Now I'm going to sit in a pile of my own imperfection and hope it melds with my thrifty self. See you later :)

Thrift Share :)

Anyone ever heard of Molyneux? Twas new to me :)

The only thing that has inspired me to write in the past two weeks is Serena's Thrift Share. I have been working really hard to pay all my bills so I can go to Canada in July. Frankly, I'm exhausted. But not so exhausted that I can't do my thing and thrift like a mofo.

All of these Vogue patterns are size 16, bust 38", and uncut! So awesome.

Modelesque in every way. Look at those cheekbones!

 
I have been having so much trouble buying pants lately, not because they don't exist, but because I am particular and I want to be thrifty about it. These things make it really difficult. I think I might spend some time this summer making some long linen pants and maxi skirts. Unfortunately, due to the exhaustion, I'm finding it difficult to do much more than feed myself, and go to work. Yes, I understand why celebrities get hospitalized for exhaustion. You're tired and you need an excuse to just lie in one place and do nothing.

I just thought I might keep this one - wow :)

Maybe someone will make me long linen pants and maxi skirts? A girl can hope.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Whilst thrifting...

What I saw today whilst thrifting:

1. Two children, in two separate Costco-size shopping carts, abandoned at the back of a large thrift store, parked underneath large shelves, while the adults completely ignored them. One was a baby. The baby was staring at the plywood shelf above him. The two-year-old girl was gnawing on the shopping cart. I wanted to scream at the mother, but I flash-forwarded in my mind to what that would look like, and I walked away.

2. A woman screaming into a cell phone, in between racks of women's clothing, "No! The government will pay! No! You tell her! The government will pay!" I rolled through the options in my mind for what the government was supposed to be paying for, and I lost a good fifteen minutes.

3. A fifty-year-old contractor-looking character, flirting with the busy volunteer behind the register, asking incessantly how old things were, if they were valuable, where they came from, etc. I wanted to say, "Dude! Can't you see she's busy and there are five people in line?!" Dude. She was like eighty years old, and clearly not interested. It was obvious.

A new shop?

Finished Vintage Paragon Stitchery :)

I especially love finding beautiful wall hangings, vintage art for someone to buy and delight over its uniqueness. I've found several small oil paintings that customers have enjoyed. And these things are fun for me to sell, because I know (or imagine) that they will be used and benefit someone with their beauty. I'm high-minded, if nothing else.

Both my Etsy and eBay shops have been cluttered with random things for most of their existence. Yes, I have things that I do more frequently (e.g. vintage ties, mugs, shoes), but for the most part, there is no rhyme or reason. The Recycleista, a thrifty blogger, recently opened a new shop with a specific theme (vintage papers), and it occurred to me that I am capable of doing the same. I too can hone in a little more, make a niche through what I already do, and offer it up to the masses in kind. The thing that has stood in my way has been an insecurity about what I sell, or perhaps an insecurity about myself as a person in general.

Anyhoo, I am thinking about it. It might just mean that I wait until summer arrives fully, or that I develop a better stash than I do today. I think that I'd like for it to be original art (in theory), though items like the above are also quite lovely.

Thoughts?

Whiskey :)

Vintage Milk Glass "Bar" Light Globe

I'm a minimalist in a lot of ways. I buy my clothes second hand. I live in a garage. I don't own a smart phone (I know, I'm practically Amish, right?). I also don't drink, or at least, I haven't in a very long time. But in the past year or so, ever since I graduated, I've imbibed more than usual, and now I can say that I probably drink a few times a month, three tops.

I'm pretty picky - I want something hard. One day, I just decided, I want whiskey. I don't know where this came from. I mean, I'm not an expert or anything. Last week, I was at a bar, and I ordered a glass of whiskey. Bartender asks what kind. I say, "whatever". This was an insufficient response. So something in my soul/body/mind wants whiskey, but has no idea what whiskey is. How strange is that?

Anyhow, I now lump this newfound love of simple drinking to the other pile of simple things I do, not because I'm special, but because I'm easily overwhelmed. And with summer coming, and only my shop to sustain me, I'm becoming more overwhelmed. But I'm going to be okay, not because life isn't difficult, or everything will turn out well, but because I myself am okay. I myself am well. And I myself can handle whatever difficulty comes my way. And whiskey is not a help or aid for that. It's like a fun amusement along the way :)

Oh Canada.

I love finding unique little vintage oil paintings - and sharing them :)

I want to go to Canada. Last year, I wanted to go to Bolivia, or maybe that was the year before. I love traveling. Not the sightseeing though. I like to go far away and stay in one spot. Maybe I'll walk around a lot, but I'm not a schedule-the-whole-trip kind of girl. I get so tired. Mostly, I just want to see people that I love, and when they live in another country, I want to go to that other country to see them. Also, I like to eat. So yeah, you can feed me if I visit. I won't argue.

I haven't been shopping a ton lately. I mean, in comparison to other times, I feel pretty light right now, even though my shop is full. Maybe I'm hitting some sort of thrifting stride. Or maybe I'm hitting a life stride. I dunno.

My real job ends for a while in several weeks, and then I'll have the summer to thrift and lounge by imaginary pools, and probably eat a lot of frozen yogurt. Last night, I finally traveled to a far away place to find the one-and-only place in town that has soy fro-yo. The flavor yesterday was peanut butter, so I had that with chocolate cookie crumbles on top and watched men with ZZ Top beards walk by looking rugged and manly.

That's it. It's Saturday, and I'm exhausted.

I have no title.

DIY sidewalk chalk is particularly amazing :)

I love this store in Oakland that is dedicated to the ethic of reuse. They cater to teachers and artists, people who might benefit from supplies en masse. I like to buy a lot of envelopes when I'm there, stickers, pins. I've never bought as much as I want though, because I have to carry it all around the city.

I would love to start a store like this in my city, a non-profit dedicated to reducing waste and encouraging reuse in creative ways. There was a composting bicycle service for a few years that also had a worm farm, but for some reason they couldn't sustain it (time, energy, manpower), and they went away.

I wish that I could do it all, compost all the restaurant waste, create a place where people could recycle crayons and hang with like-minded thrifty people. I wish I had my own store. But the rummage sale made me think otherwise. It made me think that I don't have the emotional acuity particular to running/operating a thrift establishment. Or maybe I do, but I would definitely need a partner. I have a friend that I could work with every day and not hate it, but I'd have to import her.

btw, today has not been awesome, but I'm getting into Parks & Rec, so yeah.

I sell damaged things.

Vintage magazine advertisement - love those togas :)

Over the past two years of my very short reselling career, I have received some pretty nasty messages from strangers. In the beginning, I may have cried, and now I find them comical. I have the power, I remind myself, the power to block.

I sell damaged things because I am not an expert in everything, but I am a finder of cool things. I like to be a conduit to other thrift-lovers, those who lose to upcycle and rehabilitate. I like being somewhere in the middle of the pack. I occasionally fix things, sew up little holes, but for the most part, I list things as they are.

The Salvation Army stores in my city sell mattresses. They take donations of old mattresses and strip out all of the schtuff away from the skeleton of the mattress, then refill it with new schtuff (foam? fluffiness?) and sell them for low thrift store prices in like-new condition. Another store in town just takes the mattresses apart, but they don't sell the mattresses, so I figure they like being middle-people too, like me, just a cog in the larger wheel of thrift.

Where do you fall in the thrift spectrum? Are you primarily a donater? Shopper? EBayer? How do you find your identity in the pretty-freakin'-large recycling world?

Megan's Thrift Hotline :)

Vintage Better Homes & Gardens Magazine: Fun Outdoor Play Structures :)

Wouldn't it be great if there were a thrift store hotline for your city/area? You could call it if you were looking for something specific, and then make a more direct route to your goal. Some places are just not good "vintage" places. Some places have no jewelry. My hotline will be popular because it will save people time and it will make secondhand goods more accessible because they'll be easier to find. Or I'll just say "check eBay". Sometimes that really is your best bet. Thrifting is a consummate art.

I was thinking of this today whilst thrifting, and some cops came looking for watches. I pointed them in a better direction only to find a farmer (i.e. overalls) looking for "a 1920s suit" ten minutes later. He also needed pointing in the right direction, but in that instance, I didn't want to intervene, reminding myself that sometimes I need to mind my own business. Well, most of the time.

I've been acting like a turd lately, a real ass hat, a tool. I'm trying to stop doing that, to stop apologizing for it, and to just keep being better in general. I fail a lot, fall down a lot, and generally just get into ruts and feel stuck. I keep thinking that I've reached some state of adulthood where I stop making stupid mistakes, saying the absolute wrong thing, and pressing send when I'm angry. But being 30 does not an adult make. Being an adult requires hard work, determination, and a hell of a lot of humility. Unfortunately, I'm oftentimes missing the latter.

Peace out.

I fix things.

Vintage GE Mist-Condition Hairsetter

So in the past year or so, I have fixed the following: my toaster oven, a blender, an aquarium, and a very fancy coffee maker. I believe that in some way, I broke all of them. And when they broke, every single time, I had an absolute freak out. Then I decided to fix them, because what the hell else could I do?

Fixing appliances is a lot less scary than some people think (or maybe a lot of people are like me and enjoy fixing things - I dunno). I'm a clumsy mess sometimes, so am left with the reality that this clumsiness will continually end in some kind of mess.

But in the end, nothing is unfixable. Injuries heal, appliances can be repaired, relationships can be rekindled, and diseases, well, those raw foodies have something to say about that. Perhaps if we admitted to ourselves that things will break, we'd be more open to doing the dirty job of fixing them, sewing up those socks, filling in those holes in the wall, going to see a therapist. Maybe if we acknowledged that we ourselves are all broken, we'd be more okay with the brokenness of other people, and the inevitable brokenness of the world.

Senior thrift.

Dante Beatrix New York Shark Starfish Backpack

I traveled to the coast today with my two favorite girls (they're hairy and somewhat stupid....Oh! and canine), and I discovered a senior center/thrift store. Whoa. What an idea. I left the dogs in the car. They were pretty tired from all the bird chasing at that point (to date, they have been chasing birds and ducks for years, and have never caught a single one), and lay like floppy babies in the back seat.

This was a "Thrift and Gift", so some things were pricier than others, but the back room was filled with bridge tables (or some other foursome card game) and the customers just walked around them to check out the merch. None of them moved or payed attention to us shoppers. They just kept playin' and chattin'.

What an idea! A thrift store and community center is a great way to combine things that go really well together. The seniors were laid back and unbothered by people in their space, and most thrift store shoppers are okay with chaos. It uses the space well, as a thrift store might not get a ton of traffic. It gives the group a project to work on. All in all, a great combo.

Kudos to you, Cayucos Seniors Gift 'N Thrift.

Thrift Share Monday :)

Small quilted wall hanging - doll blanket, perhaps

There's a hospice thrift shop in town that moved to a much, much larger location, and has made their prices much, much bigger. So a store that I used to go in weekly is now only a store I go in maybe once a month. This month, I was in luck! I got two of these quilted pieces. They're beautiful. I don't know what someone would do with them, but I hope they find a loving home.

Vera scarf - this makes me think of a square dancing group :)

This is one of two vintage Vera scarves I found. This one is a lighter fabric, cotton maybe, but the other one was from the 1940s and silk. It had a huge stain in one corner, looked like coffee, and I thought I could wash it out. Oops. The scarf was like thick paper, and tore [insert Megan railing to the heavens].

Vintage 1978 Columbia Minerva Crewel Pillow Kit - "Primrose Garland"

This is such a beautiful kit, and it's complete. This past week, I finally sold a Paragon kit that had been listed for quite a long time on eBay. I could only find one other identical kit listed anywhere online, so I listed mine for 40% less, but even with that, it took a long time. I'm always trying to walk that fine line between getting a higher price, and moving inventory.

Vintage Diane Von Furstenburg jumpsuit

I found this DVF jumpsuit at a Salvation Army a few days earlier in the week, but needed to wash it, so it got posted with this other stuff. I honestly do not know how people make these look so freakin' cute. I am not one of those people. I cannot rock a jumpsuit. Oh dear lord. With shoulder pads?! Epic fail.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Pat Robertson on thrift.

Saint Mark the Evangelist - Felt and plastic printing plate

So Pat Robertson, the ever exciting host of The 700 Club, has joined the thrifting world by encouraging the rebuking of evil spirits from all secondhand sweaters. I can only imagine what horrors I've unknowingly brought home in my hundreds of thrift encounters.

I must leave, and cleanse my home. Peace out :)

Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage health, fitness, and nutrition book for teens

I went out of town today, forty-five minutes in fact, and even though I went to a town far from home, I saw thrift store employees I know. How funny is that? They were of course surprised to see me as well, and we shared some awkward moments.

A little while later, I traveled downtown to the nicer "boutiquey" thrift store, which is always very clean and high priced. I thought I might find some work clothes. They were having a "25% off" sale on some items, and a woman came to the counter to ask the volunteers how much she would pay for an item that was $10. It took them five minutes, they couldn't figure it out, and gave up. I kid you not. I ended up explaining it to them, and they replied, "Oh, math was my worst subject." I wanted to claw my own eyes out.

Vintage book for kids about the human body - fun times :)

I ended up bringing six items into the dressing room, four tops and two dresses. Everything looked huge and made me look like a weird angular mannequin. The last thing I tried on was a vintage wool Pendleton shift. It made me look like a bad Mad Men knock-off. I know that everyone feels this way sometimes, but I'm having a hard time with my body right now, and feeling freakish.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Making friends :)

I can't wait to sell these boots! They're really cool :)

So now, around town, I feel like a wise old thrifter. I have seen so much. I have patience. I have an appropriately furrowed brow (oh dear, this expression will age me quickly). I am the best thrifting resource you will find, if you only have the time to look around and see if anyone is paying attention to you. I am present. I am smiling. And yes, that color would look great on you.

I used to hang my head and mumble, say "thank you" and never attempt conversation. But something in me has changed over the past year. I think my life has smoothed out to a more steady pace, and I'm able to take moments, full minutes in fact, to speak to people, look them in the eye and talk to them. It's been a trip, really, because it has made my thrifting hobby into something I do, not just because it gives me mindless time (which I need on a daily basis), but it also gives me social time to talk about nothing of any importance. I don't have to give a lot. I can just be me, and enjoy the experience, and smile and let go of the heavy burdens I often put on my own shoulders.

So maybe I'm endearing, and that makes it easy for people to talk to me. Or maybe I'm weird and eccentric, and I don't stand out much (let's all remember fake baby lady from a few weeks ago). I don't know what people think, because sometimes I'm wearing my normal clothes, and sometimes I'm wearing my professional clothes. Maybe they call me something like "weird tall lady" :)

Anyhow, I'm having especially enjoyable times thrifting lately :)

Mug share :)

Doesn't this remind you of truck-drivers?

I don't know why this mug thing has taken such a hold on me, but it has. It's my thing, and I like having a thing. Maybe when I have a bigger place, I'll have room for some sort of bizarre incongruous collection. I try not to get attached to things, though, so that keeps me from making collections of anything.

The mug only holds a little liquid - false bottom :)

Severe hoarding is a way to hold onto things that we have lost, a tangible way to hold on to the intangible. I've always been super reticent to hang onto things. I occasionally get rid of things, just to make sure I'm not holding on too tightly. That makes me sound somewhat paranoid, now that I think about it. Maybe that's not so healthy, the not wanting to hold onto things.

Somewhere out there is a matching mug that says "me"

I guess I try to walk a fine line between keeping and throwing away, but I don't think I'm very good at it. Just when I think I've figured it out, the pendulum swings in the opposite direction.

Anyhoo, let me know if you collect certain mugs, and I'll be on the lookout for you :)

Making better decisions :)

From Happiness is a Warm Puppy by Charles Schultz

At one of my favorite stores, there is a "25 cents" rack. I thought the rack was full of rejects, so I never spent much time going through it. Then yesterday, I had a wild hair, and ended up finding three pairs of pants in really good condition that are now in my shop. The cashier was proud of me. She's super friendly, so I've been doing my best to reciprocate. It's important to be kind to people in retail.

Actions like this have reduced my thrifting expenses drastically over the past month during my hard core "Debt Reduction Diet", which will last as long as it needs to (until my car is paid for and my credit card balance is $0). It means I don't buy everything I want to buy for my shop, and it means that I buy weird things that are cheap because no one has been able to identify them. I have the time to do the research. I have more time than money, and I need to use my resources in effective ways. That's my rationale. I sold a lot of stuff in January, and I plan to continue stocking my store like a mofo in February.

In other news, I'm having some perspective changes in my life on relationships, and on politics. I think I'm becoming more and more of a libertarian, a libertarian who believes in socialized medicine. It's a complicated business, politics. It involves the delicate dance between how we see ourselves, and how we see other people. I think this year, one of my main goals in life will be to empower others to change their own lives. I am working on allowing people to find their own ways instead of telling them how to do what I think is best. Teach a man to fish...