Not Much in the Neighborhood

I was so excited for today's "Summit Goes on Sale" I could hardly sleep.  In years past the neighborhood association had a spring yard sale to raise money.  This year, someone had the brilliant idea to skip all the hard work and instead convince everyone else to have the sale.  The neighborhood association collected fees for getting on the map and then publicized the event. 

Unfortunately, they may have made it too easy to participate and many of the sales consisted of a table of overpriced odds and ends.  Oh well.  It was a beautiful sunny day and I did find a few treasures.  Not the haul I was hoping for, but you can't win every time. 

My favorite find is this antique pitchfork.  I paid $10 for it.   I already have an old wood pitchfork hanging in my living room.  Now I just need to find a wall to display this beauty.  Not sure what it says about me that I seem to be collecting pitchforks...

Probably my most fruitful find was this vintage hand loom I scored for $1.  I'm hoping to resell it for around $30.  I also found this great vintage trim...

These fun paper napkins...

And these tulip-shaped candlesticks.  I think they're silverplated and hope they'll polish up nicely.  ($2, by the way.)

All in all I think I did better at Saver's this week (found a Jean Cocteau cat plate by Limoges for $5.99--it will go up for sale tomorrow night.  Fingers crossed!) But it's all about the journey, right?  And I did have a good time.

Goodwill, Used Clothing, and the Meaning of Life

First off, the photos have nothing to do with this post—just some great vintage wrapping paper I found while thrifting the other day. On second thought, maybe they do. We’ll see…


Today’s post focuses on a deep, internal struggle I experienced this past weekend.

I ate on Yom Kippur. But I did not thrift. This was actually quite a sacrifice for me as Yom Kippur fell on Saturday. I showed great restraint as I passed a yard sale sign while out walking with my daughter. It took everything I had to continue on my path and not veer off in search of treasure.

I had to ignore all the posts on Craigslist, turn the page when I came to the Classified section in the paper, and ignore any brightly colored fliers stapled to the telephone poles. I’ll admit, I don’t think this type of sacrifice is what God had in mind when commanding us to fast on Yom Kippur. I’m no Talmudic scholar, but from what I gather, we’re supposed to ignore all bodily needs. It’s supposed to help us focus more on our spirituality, bring us closer to God, or something like that.

I’m sure I’m not alone, however, in feeling that the only thing I can focus on when I’m fasting is my next meal. I don’t find lightheadedness from hunger to be spiritual at all.

What I do find spiritual is a fully stocked aisle at Goodwill. There, as I leaf through worn sweaters, I find myself falling into a deep meditative state. The surrounding noises of the busy store recede into the background as I enter the Zone, waiting patiently for the bold pink of a Lilly Pulitzer flamingo pattern to spring forth.

So herein lies my deep philosophical struggle –that I find I am most grounded, perhaps most spiritual , not while I’m balancing in tree pose, crossing the finish line of a 5k, or dehydrating in a sweat lodge, but sifting through half-used craft supplies at the Salvation Army.

What does this say about me --that my true joy comes from sorting through others’ refuse? That materialism (and base-level materialism at that) brings me peace? Or is it like panning for gold? Am I a recession-era treasure hunter?

I have no answer. What I do know is that I enjoy thrifting. And I’m good at it. And who am I to question my god-given gift? If I’ve been put on earth to rescue vintage Channel from landfill, so be it. Perhaps I’m like a pop archivist—preserving all the crap from today (and yesterday) that might mean something to some sociologist or archeologist down the road.

Take this gift wrap I found, for example. It spoke to me with its tales of a simpler time. I imagine someone will buy it from me on eBay for a scrapbooking project. And the effort to preserve the past will continue.

As will my philosophical struggle. Especially when Yom Kippur rolls around next year and I debate whether to fast or not, how I want to show my faith, and what exactly that faith is.

Finger on the Pulse

Always love it when I can think of myself ahead of a trend.  Last month's issue of Country Home magazine featured vintage Paint By Number paintings as highly collectible (not that Country Home is at the forefront of trendsetting, but still...)  My daughter has a wall in her bedroom devoted to vintage paintings and other artwork (like cross stitch and needlepoint) featuring animals.  She has quite a few Paint-by-Numbers up there already.  Last week I spotted this pair shown above at the Goodwill store.  At $8.49 a piece, I thought they were a bit pricey, but anything for my daughter...  When I got to the checkout, I realized one was missing the glass from the frame.  Not really a deal breaker, but I pointed it out to the cashier.  She said the $8.49 price tag must be wrong, managed to find a $2.99 on the edge of one frame (clearly peeled off from another item) and charged me $2.99 a piece.  Thank you Goodwill!  And Country Home editors, start reading my blog!

Love My Smartphone Apps!

One of my favorite things about thrifting is trying to find out just what some strange object is.  And I've found my Droid can be paritcularly helpful.  My most used app is called Pocket Auctions. I use it to search eBay for items I'm wondering about as I stroll the aisles of Savers.  Another super cool app I just discovered (quite by accident as my 7-year old aparently downloaded it) is called Goggles.  Take a photo of what you're interested in , connect it to Goggles and it will search the Web for a matching image.  I used it for this treasure I've shown above, but came up empty-handed.  Guess I shouldn't have been surprised as this shirt is clearly a unique item! I'm certain it's worth a mint.  Why, it even has the Twin Towers featured in the background!  That coupled with it's fabulous neon green color is sure to make it a collector's dream come true.  Just what type of collector I'm not too sure. The shirt is a child's size medium.  I'm thinking some retro hipster shacking up in Brooklyn might want it, but it's probably too small. 

But I digress.  Back to my search to track down info. on this gem.  The shirt is by K.A.D. Clothing Co. and I found some items by this maker on eBay, but nothing as fabulous as this.  I was sure the Gotham goons featured on the shirt are some classic characters, so, while lying in bed at 9:30 p.m. I texted my nephew in L.A. (a comic book afficianado) with the photo.  Two minutes later I got a response--basically the equivalent of "get with the program Auntie, these thugs are so not anyone special." I chalked up his reply to his inability to spot something truly cool--he's been away from N.Y.C. for too long.

Bottom line, I still haven't found out much about the shirt.  But it was fun trying!  Now it's up on eBay waiting for the right, pint-sized trendsetter to find it.

Look High, Look Low

Well, the kids have been busy this weekend thanks to mom's forray into the Hospice Shop of Northhampton, Mass.  Stopped in there on Friday during a trip to pick up my nephew at Amherst.  I immediately followed one of the standard thrifting rules--look high, look low.  Just love it when the rules really work!  There on the floor below a clothing rack was a plastic bag filled with Lego.  Actually, it was filled with the base plates which are exactly what we've been looking for and my girls have been fighting over for months.  "I can't build a house because SHE won't give me a base!"  You get the picture.

No price on the bag, but I picked it up anyway.  Then noticed the plastic briefcases next to the bag were also Lego.  All five of them.  And not just any Lego, but mid-eighties (qualifying as vintage by eBay standards) Lego.  I showed the bag to the manager and asked for a price.  Turns out it hadn't been priced yet as one of the workers just brought it in.  I paid $36 for the whole kit and caboodle. 

Two days later my daughters are still having fun sorting through it all.  And I've discovered Lego cases are like the child's version of a sewing box--you never know what you'll find inside.  So far, we've uncovered a 1980s soccer-playing Smurf, a vintage Fisher Price Little People chair, assorted miniature Dungeons and Dragons figures, and miscellaneous Monopoly pieces. 

By the way, the odd and damaged Vilebrequin swim trunks sold for $11.50. 

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.