It’s becoming an obsession. Because unlike any other store; shipments are ever flowing, never stopping. There is never anything “new this season”, no “let me get that for you in a different size”, and often no guarantees or returns.
You can go to the same place twice in one week, and feel like you’ve never been there before.
My favorite thing is not finding clothes with the original tag still on it.
I don’t lust to find the super expensive designer pair of jeans (although I have, and it does get my blood pumping).
And I could care less if my purchases are not delicately folded with tissue paper and placed into a cool looking logo imprinted bag.
Let me tell you.
Right now, I’m addicted to the old. The classic. The iconic. The often timeless. The Vintage.
I bought a coat last week. To date, it has been my most expensive thrift store purchase ever. I splurged, $18.
I *almost* didn’t get it, because I just got a new ski coat for my birthday. And, I try not to collect too much stuff I don’t need.
But I had to. I had to get it. I knew if I didn’t, it would forever be the “one that got away”. I justified my purchase by telling myself that I would wear it once or twice, then sell it. Or maybe give it to a friend.
I love the color. I love that it has all of it’s original big tortoise shell buttons. I love that the lining is 100% original, and is in mint condition. I love that it was made, ages ago, in my City. Admittedly, the arms are a tiny bit short and the pockets are shallower than I typically like. But I can’t complain.
The real mystery for me will always and forever remain the same. I want to know the coats story. Who did this piece belong to? Was it a gift? Did the owner love it? And honestly, how the heck did it end up in a dirty thrift shop on the dodgy side of Indianapolis?