Looking back at these pictures I
can’t help but admit there was a time, not all that long ago, that I actually
considered hanging up my thrifting habit.
As any avid thrifter can attest, the fruitfulness of secondhand shopping
definitely ebbs and flows. In other words,
sometimes the magic is simply not there.
Of course, when one has been thrifting as long as I have they definitely
don’t NEED another successful shopping trip.
In fact, if I have many more of these my closet is going to collapse...again...and let me tell you, I need this event less than anything. There’s nothing that pisses a man off more
than the unbelievably loud sound of wood cracking at 2:00 AM. At least, that’s what I gathered by my
boyfriend’s reaction to the last time one of my closet bars snapped in half
from the weight of my clothes. Who the
hell knew mohair was so heavy?
Yep, there’s really no better buzzkill for
a thrifter than the idea that they may have crossed over from being a quirky collector
into the horrific realm of hoarding. Thank
you A&E for, yet again, scaring the living crap out of me! In addition to not wanting to succumb to a
terrifying mental disorder, there is also the fact that I find myself making
the statement, “It’s about quality over quantity. I’m going to stop buying so much stuff in
order to save up for those big special purchases.” This is a statement I utter so often I almost
should have it carved on my tombstone.
Actually if I was being totally honest it’s more likely to be etched on
my urn, considering some of us are completely creeped out by the idea of being
locked in a box underground to rot for eternity…just saying.
Returning to the topic at hand, I’m shocked to
be able to report that for quite a time I was able to adhere to my, “Save
for the special stuff,” mantra. I had
been experiencing a rather rugged dry spell on the thrifting circuit…actually,
let me rephrase that…I was drowning in a river of ho-humness known as Coldwater
Creek and I couldn’t face another day of mining it for gold. I would like to extend an apology to anyone
who may appreciate the apparel that Coldwater Creek provides. I’m certainly not trying to offend. However, despite my impending middle-agedness, I’m just not ready to drink that Kool-Aid yet.
As a result of my break up with thrifting, I
was able to collect more than a few designer pretties to add to my closet. However, each time I look at
them there is simply something missing.
They’re too pristine?…they’re too perfect?...hell, they’re just too damn
normal! The problem with designer
merchandise if that even if each piece comes with an elitist status all one
needs to possess these items is money. Not
that this is an easy task…especially for someone who works for a nonprofit
organization like I do. However, even
after finally scraping together enough clams to earn one of these pearls there’s
a certain letdown in the knowledge that a million other women who possess more
money than I do bought it on a whim.
Mass produced items…even luxury ones made in Italy…are still intended for
the masses.
In closing, I’ve come to the conclusion that
my perfect dream closet can only be achieved by a careful balance of hard
earned luxury items and secondhand secrets.
One of the first items I bought after my thrifting hiatus is the faux
fur coat I’m wearing in the images above.
I decided to give, “the hunt,” one last whirl when I ran straight into
the best 80’s Jordache I’ve ever encountered.
Suddenly the drought was over and a floodgate of cheap faux fur carried
me to a land that was no longer perfect…and I fit right in.
-r.
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