Save for the shoes, everything I wore here is thrifted. (Even then, I got the shoes on sale.) Because I have this thing against blowing my hard-earned dough paying retail price. I got bills to take care of. Those come first. My cheap thrills come second.
Having said that, I love op shopping! And in the last two weeks I have been keeping an eye out on whether my local op shop has decided to open already but they haven’t yet. I have accumulated about three bags of stuff for donation that I wanna drop off.
That, and to have a look around, as well, if you know what I mean. Which kind of defeats the purpose of decluttering but I like to support my op shop. The volunteers are really nice and friendly and they don’t charge you an arm and a leg for a secondhand coat whose previous owner may or may not have already passed away.
(Does the thought of wearing a deceased person’s clothing bother me? No, it doesn’t. If anything, I’m happy to take their clothes out for a spin. Same way people with heart transplants go on and enjoy the rest of their lives with a dead donor’s organ beating inside their chests. That’s simply how the universe works. You give and you receive. And you’re helping the environment, too, which ticks all the moral and ethical components to it, as well, so… win-win-win!)
Also, they don’t write the price of items with a permanent marker on the freaking tag(!) which is like, my ultimate pet peeve when it comes to thrifting. Do I need to be reminded that I paid $7 for my black parka each and every time I take it out of its hanger? No, I don’t. Sure, I like to brag about my bargain finds but having the damn price right there for the world to see that even a washing machine can’t erase is a pretty low blow. Almost like an insult, to put it bluntly.
Sorry, but that’s just how I feel.
The value of my thrifted finds lies on how pleasantly surprised I was to score such a good and quality item at a reasonable price. Not in the literal figure on the price tag. You know what I mean?
Anyway, so much for that. I only went to grab lunch with Jeff and Raven at Dandenong and, well, that escalated quickly.
P.S. My kid is such a character. Every single thing about her outfit was 100% her. I think I got a little fashionista in my hands.
*Raven at 3 years old