Fashion faux-poop

You know how much I love garage sales right?  I love looking for furniture, home decor and all sorts of stuff.  But the one thing I can't buy at garage sales is other people's clothes.

I do draw the line somewhere.  (Like other people's underwear.  That is REALLY gross)

I am not sure why, but something about pawing through clothes while they are strewn on someones lawn just doesn't sit completely right with me.  

On the other hand, what I do love is consignment shopping.

I know.  It's essentially the same thing right?

Apparently in my mind, it is different. Not sure why.  Somehow, if used clothes are hanging neatly on racks, they seem to be less used and more amazing.  Plus they have been looked over by a store employee, which validates to me that it must be good.

I think there is also some part of me that doesn't like to be watched when I pick out clothes.  Somehow I don't mind it when I'm perusing furniture and picture frames- probably because I don't have to actually touch anything- just use my eyes.  Clothes on the other hand, I have to sort through with my hands, and that seems wrong while I am standing in their front yard.

Anyway, back to consignment shopping.

I love it because it is so wonderful and so much less expensive than regular shopping.  I have a fancy auction to go to next weekend and I needed a new dress to wear.  Since we are not exactly rolling in the dough, I headed to my favorite consignment store that carries tons of designer clothes for huge discounts.

I should never go shopping by myself, because I inevitably end up in a dressing room all alone, trying to decide between two things with no second opinion.  Thank goodness for smart phones because I could snap some pictures and text them to Chris and my best friend for their opinions. 

These are embarrassing pictures, I know.

Clearly I'm obsessed with the one sleeve thing right now.   AND, apparently a hand on the hip is my go-to while taking photos of myself in the mirror.

For those who are dying to know, I bought them both.  The black one was $27 and is some fancy designer that I've never heard of, and I found out that the tan one was on sale for $13 and it was brand new (original tags still on), which is what pushed me over the edge.  

I know. $40 dollars.  I'm getting crazy!

I started consignment shopping back in college when finances were tight, and I had a major obsession with designer jeans. Who can afford them for $250 a pair?  Clearly not me.

Way back when, I remember bragging about my frugality to my cousin- who was a die hard thrift and consignment shopper as well. 

She told me a story that every consignment shopper should hear before they head out, credit card in hand.

The story goes like this.

She was shopping at the Goodwill looking for some pants.  She took a few pairs into the dressing room to try them on.  After putting a pair on and subsequently taking them off, she realized that something was on her leg.  

She leaned down to get a closer look, and was still unsure of what was on her leg.  Then she wiped it with her hand to figure out exactly what it was.  Like any normal human, she decided to smell it.  

That is when she realized it was poop.  

Yes. Poop.  

Someone else's poop.

The moral of the story is.  When shopping for used clothes, always check for poop.  For the record, none of the dresses I bought had poop on them.

You're welcome.  Happy shopping.