Showing posts with label retail therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label retail therapy. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

On thrifting

The haunted wedding dress.
Once in a while I'll check out eBay to lust over danish teak furniture, kitschy avocado green fondue pots and other mid-century modern wares. Last night I had the brilliant idea of trying to find the ugliest framed needlepoint owl I could from the 1960s to hang somewhere in my new house (all we're waiting on is final loan approval!). But there was not one needlepoint owl to be found on eBay.

So today I decided to try my hand at "thrifting" -- specifically for an ugly framed 1960s needlepoint owl or other fowl, but also any other delightfully tacky items I could find. In my neck of the woods, there's a large thrift store that contracts with a major hospital here to accept donations from patients. This thrift store sells these estate-sale-esque items and gives the proceeds back to the hospital. As far as I know, this translates to: A giant store full of dead people's things. Creepy.

I went to said store anyway looking for fun, retro items, but right when I stepped inside I knew I'd made a mistake. Instead of kitsch, there were a lot of sad wares likely once owned by old people. Things like horribly outdated teacups sitting tired in their equally outdated saucers. Once-clear glass figurines of things like little girls, sheep and acorns now tinted to a pale yellow with age. I passed a wall covered in old shoes that were never cool even in the decades they were from. "One dollar a pair," a sign read above the shelves. 

Though I wasn't there for clothing, I passed the "vintage" section and hesitated before pushing a couple hangers apart out of curiosity. Someone's wedding dress "from the 1950s," the tag read, hung in front of me. It was a beautiful dress, the style very in mode for that time period but now passe unless used for some kind of period party or photo shoot. It was the type of dress Elizabeth Taylor wore in Father of the Bride. The price? Fifteen dollars. For some reason the whole thing just made me really sad, that a long, long time ago, some woman's whole dreams probably culminated in wearing this exquisite white brocade dress that's now sitting in a smelly thrift store unable to sell for even $15. The woman who once owned it, I'm sure, had passed away already at the hospital. 

After that it was too hard to shop any longer in the store. Mostly because it just felt so wrong to be pilfering through dead peoples' things. Like all those things were haunted or something. Plus, anything I bought would remind me of that Godforsaken wedding dress I saw the same day. And yeah, I know, all antiques once belonged to people who are probably dead, but in times like this ignorance is bliss. Mama doesn't like dead people, and she especially doesn't like potentially haunted goods wreaking havoc in her house.

So I think today was the beginning and end of my thrifting journey. Ebay may need to suffice.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Highs and lows, Sept. 26th edition

I've decided to keep track of my high/low point every week. There will often be more than one in each category, which I suppose defeats the purpose of narrowing it down to only two total, but I've always been a fan of defeating purposes so here goes:

High:

I had two highs this week. First, I splurged and bought a new leather Coach bag that I wasn't in the market for but accidentally came across while shopping with my secretary.

It was lunchtime at work and the two of us needed an escape involving the clothing racks at Bloomingdales. On the way we stopped in at Nordstroms, where I spotted a (and my future) Sabrina bag thrown carelessly on a clearance table. Right then I knew that it was all over. Somehow, miraculously, I left without the bag, thinking I'd find it cheaper online. But that night, after all Internet searches ended in a dead end, I could barely fall asleep the bag so consumed my thoughts. I had to have it, kind of like SJP with her bottle of perfume.

The next day (which I had called in sick for) passed without incident yet thoughts of the bag persisted. I tried to talk myself out of it, that it was a frivolous, pricey purchase, that I had more than enough bags. But the talking continually led way to Googling images of the thing...of talking about it over dinner like I'd fallen in love with another man. Another sunset, another sunrise. As I suited up for work I knew I would be buying it that day.

Thankfully, after picturing myself crying in the shower that night to Boy George's "Crying Game" when I saw that the bag was gone upon my arrival, the salespeople found one last Sabrina bag. On a retail high, I was so thrilled leaving the store with it in hand that nothing at the office could ruin the rest of my day. It was like I was walking in tall cotton.

My other high was all the time I got to spend with my husband this weekend. After many weeks of being busy with plans, my husband and I stayed in to watch a movie and nosh on yummy food in our pajamas on Saturday night. He even surprised me with an entire pumpkin pie and a slice of german chocolate cake, just because he knew I'd "like them." I am so lucky to share my life with such a kind, loving man. (Reminder to self: Stop taking out all your stress on him, he doesn't deserve it.) The next morning he made me a big breakfast of pancakes, coffee, and eggs scrambled with sausage, peppers and cheddar (we were out of goat cheese). Over breakfast he kept telling me how beautiful I was even though I insisted no-makeup-con-morning-face was not the best look for me. Good food, good man, good weekend.

Low:

Speaking of that Saturday night I was excited to watch The Italian Job since I'd never seen it before (I know, I was born under a rock), but we couldn't find one. copy. anywhere. It's totally one of those movies that's stuck near the cash register at a Marshalls or a TJ Maxx, but no. No copies at Target or Best Buy, and Blockbuster only had new copies -- at $20 a piece. Um, 2002 called, it wants its prices back. Who still pays $20 for a DVD?? They were out of a rental copy, so we checked RedBox, BlueBox, all kinds of boxes. Nothing. Of course it wasn't watch-it-now on Netflix either, and it was $4 -- $4!! -- to rent on iTunes. Ridiculous, since you can buy it on Amazon for the same price. So we watched Presumed Innocent with Harrison Ford instead. But now I've made it my mission to find The Italian Job. So help me, God, I will find a copy. *raises fist to sky*