Thank you to Chelsea Pech, who writes for beautyxpose.com. She interviewed me and wrote a lovely article about the joys of secondhand shopping which you can read here.

On occasion, when my friend Bea and I are hanging out at our local thrift store, she grabs my hand and forces me to touch garments made out of fabrics that are a tactile nightmare. She thinks she’s funny. I’m left with the uncomfortable memory of stiff, itchy fabric.

The purpose of this website is to point out that there is good, sometimes even beautiful, used clothing available at secondhand stores. What I rarely mention is that part of the fun of shopping secondhand is seeing puzzlingly hideous clothing, ugly doo-dads, horrible paintings and pitiful, abandoned dollies. I’m constantly asking myself why anybody would design/make/buy/donate/or put this awful stuff on the shelf, even if the shelf is located in the cheapest-of-the-cheap charity thrift store.

While I’m content to sit and ask myself questions about all of this grotesque stuff, Jacob Williamson, creator of Thrifthorror: Things from Beyond the Bargain Bin, hunts it down, photographs it and then writes about it at length. If you have not yet fallen on the floor laughing today, I strongly suggest that you check out his wonderfully written blog.

As I compose this, I’m at home with a cold, so I’m missing my regular weekly thrift store trip with my pal, Bea. We go on Wednesdays because that’s the day when almost all of the clothing is 1/2 off. By the time I get there next week, at least some the great stuff that I would have found today will be gone, having been discovered by some other bargain hunter. At least I don’t have to worry about missing any of the ugly, hilarious things, though, because they will all still be there.

My daughter loves a secondhand wardrobe as much as I do, and it’s just my good fortune that we are almost the same size. She examines pants much more carefully than I do and when she tries them on I sit in the dressing room with her. I hang up those that are too small for her and try on the ones that are just a bit too big. I’ve gotten some of my favorite pants this way.

Last summer when we visited a friend in San Francisco we stopped by a few Goodwill stores. I found a fantastic jacket and a belt that were both just a bit too small for me, but that fit my daughter perfectly. Shopping for the secondhand wardrobe is great fun when done alone, it’s more fun with people you care about, but it’s even better with people who wear almost, but not quite the same size!

Manufacturers often put their names, slogans and logos on clothing, but this time Tommy Hilfiger really went overboard. I was sniffing around one of my favorite secondhand stores when I found a tee shirt with the following printed on the chest:

Tom-my Hil-fig-er 1.: American 2: quality tailored clothing, sportswear, jeans and athletic apparel for men, women and children adj. 3: fun, free, spirited, a desirable addition to your wardrobe 4: a group of people who demand distinctive style ＜~ customers have an eye for details ＞ v. 5:to twist tradition, to reinvent the classics to create FASHION FREEDOM 6: to chuck convention, but with panache syn see Duke and Dutchess of Windsor 7: Whoever you are, whatever you wear, TOMMY HILFIGER is you.

This whole issue of logos/slogans/names of companies prominently displayed on garments raises an interesting question for me. I understand that the companies benefit when people wear this stuff, but why do consumers go along with it?

 Thrift store jewels that I’ll make into other treasures.  

I’ve written before about how much I love vintage jewelry. Some pieces I wear as they are; others I disassemble to use the components to make something new. Yesterday while I was nosing around my local public library, I found a great new book on how to take bits and pieces of old jewelry, plastic cake decorations and doll furniture and turn them into necklaces, bracelets, earrings, shoe clips and more. The Naughty Secretary Club: The Working Girl’s Guide to Handmade Jewelry isn’t for those who love only pearls, solid gold and diamond jewelry. But if you’d enjoy a necklace made of plastic gnomes, you should check out this book.

It’s easy to shop for clothes at Sears and come out with a boring wardrobe. Generally, those of us who love dressing secondhand don’t have that problem, but there are other style dangers that lurk when we go out sniffing around for used bargains.

For one, we have to be vigilant in avoiding clothing that’s stained, torn or looks worn in other ways. That means carefully examining all items before plunking down your two dollars and fifty cents. For another, and I don’t know how to put this delicately, no clothing has the potential for being as goofy looking as clothing from a thrift store. There are so many strange things at secondhand stores, from sweaters with massive 3-D Christmas trees to MC Hammer balloon pants. Don’t get me wrong—I love goofy, but a little goes a long way.

Earlier this summer I did something that I just hate—went shopping at regular retail stores for a new bathing suit. After trying on stacks and stacks of swimsuits at three different places, I found one that wasn’t terrible. It was all very discouraging.  

How interesting, I thought, that I never leave a thrift store feeling discouraged, even if I try on what seems like half of what’s in the store and find nothing worth buying. 

Maybe shopping for secondhand clothing is so much more fun than shopping regular retail because of my expectations. When everything is brand new, I somehow feel that at least some of it should look terrific on me. Secondhand stores, however, are filled with stuff that’s been rejected by somebody else for one reason or another. I expect used clothing stores will have loads and loads of stuff that I don’t want. Not finding anything great doesn’t surprise me, but when I do find something great, it’s an absolute thrill.

Anyway, to get back to swimsuit situation, the friend who was with me on this shopping ordeal (she also had to try on about a thousand to find just one that was reasonably attractive) suggested that if somebody could just come up with a bathing suit that covers every single inch of our bodies, that person would become wealthy indeed. 

I’ve gone to a few sewing conventions, and have got to say that they were jaw-dropping events. The classes were great, that wasn’t what shocked me. It was the way most of the attendees were dressed. Since these events were about home sewing, I expected to see people decked out in beautiful, flattering things they’d made. Ha! I saw loads of polyester pants with elastic waists. I knew the waists were elastic because oversized tee shirts were tucked into them. As a topper, there were a lot of patchwork vests and jackets that showed off the exquisite needlework skills of the wearer. Even though the toppers would have been beautiful to view on a hanger or a wall, as garments they were unfitted and unbelievably unflattering. 

Lest I sound like a big snoot, let me just say that I have nothing against ugly clothing. In fact, I really like it as long as I’m by myself and in my own house. This morning is cold and rainy and I’m alone, writing and periodically taking breaks to work out. I’ve got on stretchy pants that are in a shade that can only be called baby stool brown, shoes that are comfortable but make my naturally oversized feet look clowny, a tee shirt that appears to have been chewed off at the neckline because I tore into it with a pair of blunt scissors one day when it felt too tight, and a pilled shapeless fleece sweater.  

This outfit is comfortably delightful for my tasks this AM, but I’m meeting some friends for lunch. When I go out of the house, I’ll change my clothes. I’ll do so for one reason—because people judge each other on appearance.  

Since I have some amount of control over how I look, it amuses me to look like something the cat dragged in when I’m here by myself and then to look pretty good when I go out into the world.   

To get back to the sewing convention–as I was wandering around, trying to keep my eyes fixed on something other than the ugly clothing, I kept wondering if all of these people had avoided looking in the mirror before they left home. Which brings me to the first of the style suggestions that I will make here on my blog: Get into the habit of looking in the mirror before you leave home. Check the back view as well to make sure there’s isn’t anything that you’re missing, like a big spot on the seat of your pants. While you’re looking, try to be kind. If you usually don’t have a gander at yourself before leaving home, there might be a reason—like maybe you are overly critical when you look at yourself. Don’t do that now. Just make sure that you look decent. We’ll move on to more challenging assignments later, but for now, get used to your own reflection.