Rags To Riches

There must be a gene that causes this. None of my friends has this condition, although a few may be carriers. I call it Cheap Genes. (Get it? Cheap jeans? Never mind.)

I am categorically unable to pay retail for something if I know I can find better, cheaper, and more durable second-hand. The only things I buy retail any more are gifts, groceries, socks, and underwear. Except once we actually had a Goodwill-Only-Christmas with friends that was tons-o-fun.

As a child growing up in Omaha in the 50s and early 60s, there were no hand-me-downs because I only had one brother, and we were the same size. Mom (and later, I) sewed all my clothes. There weren't any garage sales or thrift stores then. Maybe our Throw-Away Society was still in it's infancy. But when we moved to Minneapolis in 1964, a new facet of my genetic makeup emerged: a thirst for finding treasure in someone else's discards.

There was a long row of thrift stores on West Broadway in North Minneapolis, and I would spend long hours sorting through the junk and crowing with delight: a plaid wool Pendleton shirt, lace curtains, a Levi denim jacket, a pair of Frye boots. One of my first finds was a 1940s gold raw silk halter dress and bolero, something June Allyson or Virginia Mayo might have worn. The premise was simple: the purchase must be something I'd actually use, and it must cost next-to-nothing.

Garage sales became plentiful, but true "finds" are rarer there in my experience. People selling their own stuff know their stuff has worth, and most of the 50 cent items are baby clothes. Thrift store stuff is donated, implying the donor did not value it overmuch. I once bought a car for $100, though, at a garage sale! A 1956 Chevy wagon that needed TLC and freeze plugs.

The best bargains are at church and small, independent thrift stores, followed by AmVets, Salvation Army, and Goodwill. Goodwills DO have bathrooms, though. Consignment stores are for special occasion items. Like my 1973 wedding dress...

The last 15 years brought online treasure-hunting to my repertoire. EBay for shoes and clothes, Amazon for used books, Craigslist for practically everything. I got a free lawnmower through Craigslist that worked for 1.25 summers. Just last year when I needed a blender, I scored one on Craigslist for $5 that has neon lighting while it's running! Here it is today, pureeing squash for soup.

Over the years, I gradually began to collect similar stuff. One strange addiction (per friends and family) was vintage Tupperware. Garage sales truly are best for those, often finding them in FREE boxes. Later, I actually sold some of it on EBay to other collectors. A woman paid me $50 for one of these. I'm not sure why, something to do with robots, she said.

After I'd amassed three leaf bags full of vintage Tupperware (still in storage), I switched to collecting vintage talking stuffed animals. And when we downsized to the RV, I was deeply shocked to discover nobody in the family wanted them. I still have a steamer trunk stuffed with stuffies (in storage).

My grandson Elijah in the steamer trunk

I also collected ugly Mexican pottery for a while, principally birds. Had over 75 at one point, then sold most of them on EBay. Still have a few in storage...

Buying to resell was never a motive: I just wanted the stuff. What is that? I don't consider myself having grown up poor or deprived of material goods, but we probably were lower middle class. Dad was a shoe salesman and Mom was a bookkeeper. I sewed my own clothes and wore my thrift store ensembles while everyone else had store-bought-mass-produced wardrobes. Once I made my homecoming dress with some brown velvet fabric from Dad's Kinney display windows. It had vintage ecru lace at the neck and cuffs. While stunning, it was not crushproof velvet, and soon looked like I'd slept in it. WHICH I DIDN'T!

I probably looked quirky, but nothing in my background ever led me to seek or expect approval from others: I dressed to please myself. We weren't allowed to wear pants to school. Seriously. In high school, I was one of the year book editors, and one Friday we all went to the photography studio to do test shots for senior pictures. The following Monday morning, I walked into the school foyer only to see, in a wall case and SPOTLIGHTED, a gigantic framed enlargement of me in all my Thrift Store glory: a ruffled-front, black-and-white polka dot Lucy dress. SO embarrassing. But by lunch period, I had two offers to buy that dress. And I still have that picture. In storage. None of the family wants it...

Shoes have a special allure in my hunting, and I've stated before it's probably because Dad made me wear ONLY saddle shoes until I was 12. I'm hard to fit: very wide, short feet, like a duck: 6.5 EEE, but an 8M can be worn for a few hours without permanent injury. There are only a couple of brands that fit these feet, and they're not cheap: Birkenstock, Doc Marten, Born. When I find a new-looking pair of Birkenstocks in a thrift store for $2, you better believe I snatch them up. When we downsized to the RV, I realized my shoe collection would not be making the trip in it's entirety: there were over 150 pairs. I'll never forget the woman at our Downsizing Yard Sale, darting around in ecstasy shouting "OH MY GOD! Ferragamo!" and "HOLY CRAP! Louboutin!"

Living in Mexico hasn't slowed me down at all. They have Segundas here: second hand stalls, meccas for tourist cast-offs, dozens of them. My friends (mere carriers of this gene) beg to go with me the next time I go, but none of them can stay the distance: they're ready for lunch or a potty after only 3 or 4 hours. Mexico also has hurricanes, which leaves huge piles of flotsam and jetsam on the beach, providing hours of enjoyment as I scavenge for FREE stuff. Mostly yard decor: driftwood, coyote skulls, shells, dolphin bones. There's always a lot of shoes, however I've yet to find a matching pair. But stuff is stuff, and free stuff is best.

Since becoming fulltime RVers, my habit has necessarily morphed somewhat. I'm still hot for the hunt, but only little stuff. And the Buy One Throw One Rule for shoes and books is inviolate, because for 5 years we've been paying $90 per month for a storage unit in Buffalo, MN. It's not all my stuff, my husband has some responsibility here: he "collects" hunting and fishing stuff. It's all got to go, so stay tuned: big sale this summer. Need some Jimmy Choos? Tupperware Cake-Taker? How about a giant Buddha...