I'm Official!

Finally took the plunge and got business cards.  Not that I need them for anything, but a business card makes me feel like I do something other than laundry.  And surpisingly, it convinced my kids of the same.  They got so excited, they wanted to hand them out to all their friends at camp. 

I agonized for days over what to put on the cards.  Should I use my eBay store name?  My username? Something else alltogether?  And what should my title be?  The benefit to my procrastination was Vistaprint finally offered me the cards free (they have many free choices on their website, but naturally I selected an upgraded design).  For a $6 shipping charge I decided it really didn't matter what I put on the card, because I could always order a new batch if I changed my mind.

But I like these.  I haven't done anything with them, other than show them to my husband and kids.  But seeing them scattered on my desk makes me feel OK about the rest of the clutter.  After all, with a business like mine, who has the time to clean?

The Motherload?

Thought I hit the motherload today, or as the guys on American Pickers say "the honey hole", during my thrifting expedition.  First off, I spent almost $65 between Saver's and Goodwill.  That's a lot of coin for me.  But I had my 30% off coupon for Saver's and got carried away.  Did find a few good items--a really nice long faux shearling coat by Utex for $14 and a Hanna Andersson fleece baby hoodie for $1.50 (these sell like hotcakes on eBay). 

Then I hit Goodwill and came across a Vilebrequin boy's swimsuit.  Here's where the music would play if I knew how to add it in HTML. 

I've been hoping to stumble across one of these for several years now.  Why, you ask?  What's all the tizzy over a swimsuit?  That's what I thought when I sold my first one on eBay.  I was fundraising for our local JCC and someone gave me a new Vilebrequin men's swimsuit to sell.  Can't remember what it looked like, but it was on the ugly side.  These suits are bright, bold and tend toward the obnoxious side (note the slightly scary looking chimp on this one).  But they are from France.  And they've been written about in the New York Times as the suit to have in the Hamptons.  Need I say more?  Ok, I will.  These suits retail for over $100.  I sold that new one for something like $140.  Within weeks I stumbled across one at the Salvation Army for $2.  This one was not new, but in great shape.  Bubblegum pink.  But not new.  In other words it was a used swimsuit, which, quite frankly I find a bit skanky, but to each his own.  Needless to say I washed the suit, then sold it for $75. 

I've been hunting the elusive Vilebrequin ever since, and today I hit pay dirt.  There, peeking out from the overcrowded racks at Goodwill was a fairly ordinary swimsuit print of red and white hawaiian flowers.  Then I spotted the odd Big Foot creature on the pattern and I knew I'd found something special. I forked over the $1.99 for the suit feeling and left Goodwill with a s&*t-eating grin on my face.

But here's where the question mark at the end of my headline (The Motherload?) comes into play.  As I examined the suit at home, I realized it was missing that inner lining--the mesh swimsuit lining.  Looks like someone cut it out.  Why would anyone do that?  The suit is small enough that it looks like it would hold a diapered tushie, so I suppose the lining isn't needed.  But still.  The beauty of my find was damaged.  Perhaps it will still sell for $20.  I'll even take $10.