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.

Thrift store conversations.

A section of a beautiful handmade square dance skirt - my new thing :)

Yesterday, at my favorite cheap thrift store downtown, where they let you barter, and still sell things for ten cents, this conversation was overheard between an employee and two volunteers. I, a recognized regular, am the only shopper in the store.

Employee: [referring to an old friend] Oh! She was the most wonderful person. One time, a woman came up to her and complimented her earrings - would you believe it - she took them off and gave them to her!

Volunteer: What?! That's like giving away your underwear!

Employee: [completely flustered] Well...uh...oh my! Why are you talking about underwear?! Oh my goodness. This is so inappropriate...I can't believe this is happening...

Volunteer: Oh no. You misunderstand me. I'm just saying that that is how I see someone giving away their earrings. That's a personal item, just like underwear.

Employee: [laughing anxiously] He said it again! Oh my goodness. This is too much. You need to go in back and move furniture. Underwear! He's talking about underwear!

Several minutes later...

Employee: [to me (volunteers are in back, out of hearing range)] Did you hear that man? He is after me! I don't know what to do about it. It's been going on for a while now, but today was just the worst! He was talking about underwear! As if he wanted to talk about my underwear, as if he thought he might be seeing it soon!

Megan: [nods sympathetically] Yeah, wow. Hm. That's a tough one.

Employee: What do I do? This needs to stop! [turns to another employee who has just approached] Did you hear him? Talking about my underwear? I can't believe it! I don't know what to do!

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 :)

Everything is okay. I'm not insane.

Thrift store oil painting - there's just something about it I love :)

I had a less-than-wonderful day yesterday. Maybe it's the pending end-of-the-world. Maybe it's the fog, or the rain, or the fiscal cliff. Maybe it's the holiday season. Maybe it's the last month of unnecessary and expensive medical tests. Maybe it's female hysteria.

Whatever it was, it was something I'd done before, and something I'll do again. So I went and hung out with my favorite teenagers and the dogs. I went to bed early. I left work early. I wandered my favorite thrift store until Bruno Mars came on the radio and I had to flee. I took pictures of inventory in my driveway. I made jokes to make myself laugh. I reflected a wee bit about the source of my bad feelings. I listened to talk radio and Madman Across the Water. I did the things that make me feel better, bit by bit.

So that's life sometimes, and it's okay, to be sad and a little crazy sometimes. I'm probably a little crazier that most people, but I'm pretty fond of myself most of the time.

Hope all is well with you. Peace out mofos :)

You crazy!

Oh dear. I'm at the children's hospital thrift store, when a female volunteer starts talking to me, telling me about the sale racks. For whatever reason, in close spaces, I don't like to be approached by strangers telling me things that I can find out by looking at the signs, but whatever.

Then she starts following another woman, picking out clothes for her, telling her how cute she would look in this top, "It's a Small! You're tiny!" Then she returned to the cash register and began to watch me as I wandered through the store. Every time I looked her way, there she was, staring at me. It was creepy. And it wasn't smiley. It was stonefaced, maybe-she-thinks-I'm-going-to-steal-something, staring.

This same store has signs all over, saying, "DON"T STEAL! YOU ARE STEALING FROM CHILDREN, SICK CHILDREN!!!!!!!!" I don't know why I keep going back, but I do.

Thrift Share Monday :)

So I was at the special-item-case at the rescue mission thrift store this afternoon, and the woman behind the counter said, "Men are weird. [To me] Tell me they're weird."

I responded, "Um, it is difficult for us to understand one another."

"Ha! You know they're weird; admit it. My husband is a man, and he is weird. He is the weirdest person I know."

"Well, share your wisdom with me. How do you manage to stay married to such a weird man?" Oh man, I hooked her with that one.

"Well listen up girls [There was another woman behind the counter]. My husband is the love of my life. We can talk about anything. But he is weird. That's just how it is. I didn't have another choice - I couldn't marry a woman! And he thinks I'm weird. But I never would have married him if he hadn't been in love with Jesus. That's the most important thing."

So girls, take note. Marry a man who's in love with Jesus, and never marry a woman. I don't know about you, but I sure learned something today. I love it when people share their wisdom with me. Thrift store wisdom. I need to start writing all this stuff down. The people need to hear!

I think it's so funny that so many thrift stores are "christian" organizations, and assume that everyone who shops there must share their beliefs. I'm good-natured about it, but I highly doubt that everyone is. Hey! Here's a fun topic. Share your experiences with advice-giving thrift-store employees/volunteers in the comments. Let's see what we come up with.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

"Here we come rejoicing"

There's a small out-of-the-way thrift store downtown that I go to pretty often. I don't know if I've talked about it before. The thrift store supports a deep-seated ministry in the city. I don't quite understand what the ministry itself does, though I've been shopping there for years. There have been signs on the wall saying that some money helps kids go to camp, but I don't think I've seen those signs lately.

It's my secret spot. I always find good stuff. Oftentimes, I have to spend a lot of time cleaning my purchase(s), but it's usually worth it.

Anyhoo, there's a lovely woman who works there, and she enjoys listening to children's bible tapes. A couple months ago, children were singing Old Testament passages from the Torah. Today, they were singing songs about Jesus. I told her how much I enjoyed the music. I bitch and moan about Christian music overkill in thrift stores, but I'm beginning to appreciate the nostagia of it. Today, as those children were singing, I was thinking about my childhood, and this album. I've been trying to find some audio, but have been unsuccessful.

First days of work are so hard

 

Fellow shopper (to nearby employee/volunteer/parolee): "What is the sale today?"

Employee: "I dunno. There probably isn't one."

Shopper: "Well, there is a daily sale, so something is on sale. I'd like to know what it is."

Employee: "Yeah, I don't know about any 'sales'. Since I don't know about it, it probably doesn't exist."

Shopper #2 (me) to Shopper #1: "Ma'am, there is a sale on two-piece clothing items. That's all I remember from the sign."

Employee: "Well, it's my first day. So I don't know what's going on."

Shopper #2: "Oh. Well, that's okay. It's not my first day, so I've got you covered."

Employee: "Oh, do you work here?"

Shopper #2: "Um, no."

My mind is blank

I don't have anything in me right now. I don't know why, but I'm very tired and my mind is blank. I added two blankets to my bed because it got so cold last night. I have a lot of work to do this week for school, but I haven't done it yet.

Maybe my mind isn't blank. Maybe it is very very full.

Ayn Rand and Thrift

 

I just watched an interview with Ayn Rand, and I feel so depressed. There's no hope in Rand. There is only the end of oneself. There is no continuation beyond one's own life. I searched high and low for a quote to summarize the interview, but couldn't find it. To see her speak was a unique experience. To take anything she says out of context is to misunderstand her true intent.

Thrift is about the integration of everyone else in the world into one's own life. I have to spend energy, time, money. I have to wash, repair, upcycle. All of these things I can do by myself, but they require that I release my sense of control. I will never be able to find exactly what I want, in perfect condition. I must let go of my expectation that my desires are utmost in my mind. I begin to think of other people. Why does thrift exist? For the poor (Catholic Charities). For the needy (Thrift Stores for Military Veterans). For the jobless (Goodwill). For the addict (Salvation Army). The list goes on and on. One cannot keep from helping people in the thrift world. And the thrift world is, at its essence, in the business of helping.

There's nothing wrong with Rand; she isn't evil. She is looking for a way to happiness, and a purpose in life, and she happened to be brilliant and articulate and prolific at the same time. And she made a lot of people think. She made me think today.

But she still makes me sad.

Tis the season for catalogues!

So, this morning at the post office was great. There were four catalogs in the trash. I only used one, and got packaging material for two medium-sized boxes out of that one catalog. Yay Christmas season! I hesitated to throw the three I didn't use back into the trash, but that's where they came from, and I can't bring someone else's trash into my apartment, because that would just solidify my craziness.

Then, later in the day, a friend emailed me to ask about the best thrift store options in the city to donate large items ( I especially love when people call or email to ask me thrifting questions). I suggested the Catholic Charity downtown, because they're small and cheap, and they offer cheap goods to a neighborhood in need. I've been frequenting there so much more often over the past year. There's so much going on in the building; I'm not sure what's specific to the thrift store, but it's a busy place. Sometimes there are people who seem like employees, and sometimes they seem more like volunteers. There are always a lot of people shopping, and lots of clothing for children.

I've become more and more disturbed over the last year by the changes in thrift stores that have coincided with the changes in the economy. Instead of becoming beacons of hope for their communities, many stores have upped their prices. They've changed their market entirely, trying to make thrift attractive to groups that aren't already big thrifters. I don't like that. It cuts off those in need from their needs. I don't know if I'm saying this very eloquently. It's very systemic, and complicated to explain, because ideally, I'd have charts and graphs to show how prices have changed over time.

Thrift share Monday!

I wish I had a ton of fun stories to tell, but life has been pretty difficult lately, so the mere act of putting these pictures up is a huge accomplishment. I have noticed that I'm becoming a better buyer for reselling. I'm more willing to let something go if I don't have the time to repair it. I'm better at recognizing when something is (or may be) valuable. This Erica Wilson animal piece was in an ugly frame, and I'd been looking at it for months. So the other day, I took it up to the counter and said, "I don't want this frame. Can I just pay for the embroidery and leave the frame with you?" The woman behind the counter replied, "Well you can just buy it and then throw it away when you get home."

"Well, that was what I was trying to avoid." So after a few minutes, and some convincing (I figured I'm paying for the whole thing, so why is this a problem-you're a thrift store!). Another woman, though skeptical, gave me the go-ahead. I had to untape it from the frame. The tape had been there for a long time-it was cracked and gross, but totally worth it!

Le SportSac. Fifty cents.

This is an unfinished Erica Wilson crewel kit. The piece is really lovely, and all of the threads are in the package. It's very colorful and bright. If I had more time, I'd learn how to do crewel. I think it's so beautiful. If this had been a finished piece, I'd keep it. But I know that it will be so long before I'd get around to doing it, that I'd end up moving it from one house to another all in the vain hope that I would "get to it eventually", and then I'd have triplets or something crazy and it would just sit in a box somewhere, its beauty unseen by the world.

There were at least six of these where I found this Samsonite case. But this was the only one that had the original keys, and I made the decision to not try to stuff them all into my apartment while I sold them. It was just too risky.

I don't know what to make of this doll. It doesn't have any markings, but it's really beautiful and in great condition, so I bought it. It was only $3, so I figured I'd take a chance. I've done a lot of research, found out about the history of bisque dolls, but I still don't feel like I have enough information to really feel solid about it. I've been meaning to ask a doll friend about it.

Happy thrifting friends!

Linked up with ATG Thrift Share Monday.

"I'd rather be recycling"

I saw this Sport Chalet license plate holder on the freeway this afternoon (which I thought was weird; i.e. making recycling a sport). Also, I think the car was a nice Lexus, and I smiled because I do not drive anything resembling a nice car, and here was a kindred spirit in a Lexus of all things, next to my unwashed, broken oven of an old VW.

I was on the freeway driving home from a thrift trip out of town. I had a 50% off everything coupon for one of my favorite places, where I had a lot of success, and I was going to hit up their sister store on the other side of town when I realized how bad my soul was feeling, so instead, I stopped by the much smaller hospice thrift store on the way back to the freeway.

I love this place; I always find good stuff, and they have excellent prices. Unfortunately, they also have some of the crankiest women working there, so sometimes I don't go in there, because I don't want to listen to them complaining. It seems like they're always bemoaning the normal bits of being a thrift store: the customers, the disarray, the customers, people's piles. I am one for piles, and I got in trouble today for having a kitchen item outside of the kitchen area. A foulmouthed well-dressed woman behind the counter practically insisted that I hand her my stuff as I kneeled on the floor looking through magazines. I said, "I'll be there in a minute anyway," but she wouldn't have it.

Not every one is as easygoing as I am (for up to five minutes each day), but that doesn't mean that I have to dislike them. Yes, it annoys me when thrift store employees and volunteers are anally retentive about the state of the store, but those are usually the cleanest and most organized places to shop (unfortunately). And what's the opposite of anal-retention? Anal-explosion. Yeah, that's no good.

So here's to you, cranky thrifty ladies, for all of your diligence, determination, and plain ol' dourness: We couldn't sift through the trash without you.

And here's to me on my 29th birthday: May every year continue to be better than the last.