the joy of thrifting

    

from a recent trip to Boomerangs

    When I was little and needed new clothes my mom took me to one of three places: Goodwill, a second hand children’s clothing store called Fancy Pants, or a regular thrift store called Boomerangs. Usually she took me to Goodwill, specifically the children’s racks in the back. Together we’d walk through the aisles of pinks and purples as well as the blues and greens looking for clothes that my mom thought would 1) fit me and 2) look cute by her standards. She gravitated towards corduroys and embroidered blue jeans, which I hated at the time. She’d compare long sleeves with colorful flowers and patterned hoodies to my arm length and then sometimes placed the items in her cart. Other times she let me wander through the aisles pulling out clothes I liked. I dutifully followed the thrifting rules she had laid out for me. Avoid pants and shirts with text, images, and stains. Instead, look for practicality and quality. Shoes needed to be tried on and run in before they were bought. Although not every trip to Goodwill ended in the checkout line, I enjoyed the process because each time it was new and different, an adventure with countless possibilities. 

    The quality of a used clothing store depends a lot on the number of people who donate to it. So the bigger the city, the better the thrift stores tend to be. I quickly found this out after moving to Champaign and discovering that the Goodwill wasn’t quite as big or limitless as the one I was used to. My disappointing revelation coincided with the end of elementary school and the beginning of middle school. It began to matter to me where I got my clothes, how they looked, and how they were perceived. Rather than representing a place of creativity, thrift stores became places of constraint. The original freedom and excitement of wandering through the aisles was replaced by the frustration that I couldn’t find the perfect pair of skinny jeans. Even arbitrary things about thrift stores started to annoy me. Where it had never bothered me before, I began to strongly dislike the Goodwill perfume that clung to every piece of clothing–even my own when I left the store. For a few years, my discomfort with thrifting and my fear that it was not considered cool led me to avoid both going to Goodwill and talking about going to Goodwill with other people.

    Fortunately, thrift stores are now back in my good graces. Goodwill and other second hand stores like Plato’s Closet are once again full of surprises. My re-acceptance of thrift stores comes partly from the fact that thrifting has become trendy again and now everyone wants to do it, but mostly from the fact that it’s very affordable and each find is unique. I discovered that in order to truly enjoy thrifting, I had to let go of my expectations. Instead of pinning all my hopes on finding something very specific, I found that it always turns out better when I embrace the uncertainty of second hand stores. Sometimes I’ll enter a store looking for jeans or jewelry and end up with a leather bag or a pair of perfect clogs. It’s infinitely more exciting and fun to be surprised by what you don’t expect to come across. Additionally, I learned that confidence is key. My middle school discomfort with thrifting amounted to being worried about what other people would think of it. Only after meeting people who were comfortable with finding all their clothes at second hand stores did I realize that the clothes you wear are what you make of them and not where you get them.