When I was in my early teens, my parents started giving me a clothing allowance. Each month I was given $40 to spend on whatever articles of clothing I saw fit. It didn’t take me long to realize that forty bucks didn’t stretch too far at most stores. So I started shopping at thrift stores.
I remember walking into Value Village for the first time and being bombarded by the musty smell of used clothes. I have always wondered about that smell. Clothes don’t reek when they’re in someone’s own closet, but as soon as they get donated and are hung up on a rack in a thrift store, they stink the place up with that old, stanky stench. Owell, I have come to associate that smell with finding delightful treasures.
I have always been one to enjoy the thrill of the hunt when it comes to clothes shopping. When I go into any store, I immediately make a break for the sale rack, and see what goods are lurking there. I think that’s why I get along so well with thrift stores. I could spend hours searching for that perfect hidden gem.
Today I am wearing a black velvet skirt I got from the Summerland Thrift store for two dollars. I can tell it is hand-sewn. I wonder who sewed it. Was it a high school home ec. project from the early 90’s? Or was it lovingly crafted by a mother for her teenage daughter for a special occasion? I love to think of the stories that my thrift store clothes could tell.
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And who lived in the home you live in before you did. Who planted the apple trees from which you get your harvest. Who walked on the very same path that you walk on. How many people gazed upon the very same stars you look at a night. The possibilites are endless. You have a creative spirit. Explore it.
i so love being in thrift stores as well. if you have the patience, it will pay off, i find.
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