Ode to Thrifting

I’m not really one for shopping. At least not in the Pretty Woman “Big mistake…Big mistake,” kind of way. I can’t remember the last time I went to a real store and dropped more than 20 dollars on a single item. Even when my friends tell me about their own shopping sprees, I get stressed out for them knowing how I would feel the next day…it would be eerily similar to the feelings I’d have after a night of heavy drinking. And I would look over my online bank statement in the same way that I look through my sent text messages after a long night out, feeling regret and nausea. Because of self-preservation, I’ve learned to avoid shopping (in its most widely accepted form) to prevent myself from having acute buyer’s remorse…and so I can pay for my car insurance.

I wasn’t always like this. When I was in high school and college, I truthfully and tragically had more expendable income than I do now, and I went shopping all the time. Really shopping. I never thought twice about spending more than 100 dollars for a pair of shoes (or about asking my parents to buy those shoes for me). It seemed logical to me then, but now whenever I think about spending that kind of money on anything that I can’t drive or purchase so someone else will fly me across the country or the world, it doesn’t make sense. It hurts my brain in same the way that thinking about the size of outer-space or string-theory does. It’s just incomprehensible.

Plus, something else has completely ruined me as far as shopping goes. Thrift Stores. They are these beautiful and oftentimes fowl smelling stores where people drop off their clothes and household items that they no longer want. It’s kind of like an animal shelter for things. The idea is glorious and the experience is oftentimes overwhelming, especially considering the size of the store. But thanks to thrift stores, I can no longer shop in typical department stores. Even places like Target or TJ Maxx that are known for their “thrifty” prices are too expensive for me. Last week I saw a cute sweater in Target that was on clearance and when I looked at the price tag I was appalled. 9.99?!? Nice try Target, but I’m nobody’s fool!

In a thrift store, most clothing items are 4 dollars or less (and if they aren’t, leave and go to another thrift store). And my favorite thrift stores have certain days of the week where everything is 50% off, or where certain types of items, or clothes that have certain color price tags are 25-75% off. When has corporate allowed a department store to do that? The equivalent of corporate at a thrift store is the tough looking woman named Cindy sporting a bowl-cut and a glass eye that yells at you when you don’t remove your hangers before she rings you up. Cindy does what Cindy wants, and most days she wants you to save a lot of money.

While I was on a thrifting excursion with two wonderful people, an old friend and a new friend, a few weeks ago, I realized that people that thrift have a tendency to be some of my favorite people. They all tend to be a little bit different, in a good way. I can’t help but wonder if that’s because they’ve learned a few lessons from thrifting, or maybe they were this way to begin with which drew them to thrifting in the first place. I guess it’s the whole which came first, the chicken or the egg kind of deal. Either way, I think thrifting has some valuable lessons to teach. Thrifting teaches patience in so many ways. First of all, you have to be patient enough to sift through rows and rows of denim jumpers with ironed on appliqués, and hideous button up blouses with shoulder-pads that would rival football gear in order to find something amazing. But if you are truly a thrifter, the pay-off is worth it

(worth the work)

You also have to be patient because you have an 82% chance of having some type of personal encounter with someone else’s children while you are thrifting. Maybe they will stick their head under your dressing room curtain and say something about your underwear, or you will smile at them and then they will follow you around the store for the next twenty minutes. It’s just a part of the experience though, and you get used to it.

You also have to be patient while you wait in line at the register. When you’re buying 4 skirts and 2 sweaters for 6 dollars, you can’t expect a store to provide too many services. At some of the bigger thrift stores, especially on one of the 50% off days, you are destined to get stuck in line behind 2 hoarders at least who have a grocery cart full of stuff. There are a few things you can do to help you keep your cool during this part of the experience. A.) You can browse the book section of the store and pick up that copy of David Sedaris’s book that they have for 5₵ (which is cheaper than the late fee at the library by the way) and start reading it while you’re in line. You can probably get through the first 3 chapters before your turn, and really, who has time to read anymore? B.) You can help the hoarder remove the hangers from their cart-load of clothes. This helps you on a few levels because not only will you make a new friend, but it will reduce the amount of time you spend in line at the register because it speeds up the process. Especially if Cindy is working because if every hanger isn’t removed, she will yell at the customer for a few minutes before ringing them up.

Thrifters also tend to be people who don’t take things at face value. I think that’s why thrifters are some of my favorite people; they don’t see things for what they are but instead they see things for what they can be. Instead of seeing a smelly warehouse of junk, thrifters see opportunity. It’s like a treasure-trove or a sandbox. They know that wonderful things are hidden beneath the surface and they are excited to dig around for a little while and see what they can find. They are curious, creative, and innovative. Instead of focusing on the smell, or Cindy, or the denim jumpers, they focus on the brand new tennis skirt they’ve just found, 2 dollars with the original tags still on it. Or the mint-condition vintage tweed fedora that was lying in a pile of raggedy baseball caps. And most of the thrifters that I know (and love) take that same attitude out into the world. A situation that might appear to be pretty dismal at face value becomes an exciting opportunity to look for the good.

Thrifting is recycling in its purest form. I think a lot of people avoid it because of fear of the unknown. They aren’t comfortable inside the store itself or they don’t know who owned the clothes that they buy. It creeps them out to wear something that some dead person’s family dropped off in an emotional catharsis, or that a convicted felon didn’t need any more after being sentenced to life in prison. I guess I’m weird, but I like the idea of a piece of clothing having a life before me. I like the idea that it sat in someone else’s closet for a while before it came to mine. And also, what’s creepier? Wearing clothes that had a previous owner or wearing clothes that were made by a small exploited child? (Oh my wow…Could that last sentence have been any more self-righteous? Please forgive me and know that I am a nasty hypocrite who wears Old Navy jeans (that I bought during the summer when they were on major clearance)). Plus, I have a really good washing machine and anything I buy from a thrift store gets a good scrub before I wear it.

I didn’t always love thrifting so much, so I wonder if this is just me making lemonade. I thrift out of necessity and everyone knows that necessity breeds invention. Maybe I’ve over-analyzed thrifting in the same way that I over-analyze the Ramen Noodles (that I eat closer to the end of the month) to delude myself into being happy. (I love Ramen Noodles because of their versatility. I can eat shrimp, beef, or chicken without actually buying shrimp, beef, or chicken. Brilliant!) And maybe I prefer thrift stores to department stores in the same way that I prefer the taste of Dr. Extreme to Dr. Pepper. It doesn’t really taste better, but since it’s what I can afford I’ve convinced myself that it does.

I wonder what will happen to my relationships with thrifting if I ever become financially confident. Will I still want shop at a store where I have to remove the tags with a staple-remover and wash my clothes to get the musty smell off of them before I can wear them? For some reason, I really hope that the answer is yes.