I started thrifting at 11. My first thrift store “steal” was a pair of white-washed, triangle leg, Guess jeans that were two sizes too small. They were the kind of tight, non-stretchy jeans that would give you a yeast infection. But I wore them because the Guess sign on the back pocket, or so I thought, aligned me with the cool kids whose parents would spend over $30 dollars for their jeans. Oh, and that triangle, smack dab in the middle of my butt, it made me look cool. Yeah.
Back then, I liked thrifting, but I was an amateur. I bought in bulk. I would buy tons of flimsy, polyester tops and current “fashions” because either a) they were “name brands” or b) they looked good under the florescent lights. I would buy, buy, buy, and wear, wear, wear for about a year, then, when fashions changed, throw them in a giveaway bag. Of course, this constant recycling that I did was OK because the prices justified me (or, really my parents) spending small increments again and again and again and not really getting anything worthwhile.
But, now? Now, I’m a professional thrifter.
Yeah, if there were a show for people like me, I’d probably audition because, and especially since becoming a stay-at-home mom, I’ve become really that good. Hmm. Maybe I can put that talent on my stay-at-home mom resume: Professional Thrifter. Can find leather cowboy boots for less than $10 bucks. Hmm.
As a professional, I go thrifting with a plan. I shop for sales only. And I ONLY buy what I need.
We went to the thrift store this weekend. It was rainy yet hot out yet kind of windy, so Nya’s dress reflected that.
She wore a sweat shirt atop a pair of red pants that were mostly hidden beneath a tunic.
I usually keep her in the cart while I do the bulk of my shopping, but towards the end of our trips I always let her “look” around. And usually, she finds something, one thing, that she loves that I usually buy that one thing.
This time, her “thing” was a hat. But it was too big, so she threw it down to find another new thing, a white, plastic purse.
She carried it around the entire time, so I assumed that by the time we were set to pay for our stuff, she’d depart with it easily. “You already have a purse at home,” I said.
“Nooooooooooooo!” she said in response, grasping her purse like it really was her purse, like it really did contain something valuable and that I was some strange woman trying to steal it from her.
So, I got the $1.00 purse.
And when we paid for it and got in the car, she sat it in her lap, smiled and said, “Mama. I happy.”
Oh, she’s such a charmer.
p.s. If you follow me on Twitter, you know that this is the “broken” purse. The handle came off as result of Nya trying to attach it to her Princess car.
Oh, and this post is week 12 of my 52 photos challenge. I’m linking up with Courtney Kirkland.