It’s time for another round of: Thrift! Store! Gore!
Everyone remembers the Little Big Thrifting Pyramid, yes?
Okay then! First of all, look at the photo at the top of this post. You know you are going to find good stuff just by the paint job. In fact, I’ve seen velour track suits in thrift stores that would coordinate perfectly. This particular store is different from most of the places I shop. For one thing, they have security. They check your bags before you leave and look you over when you come in. Any backpacks or too large purses are to be left by the door. They won’t guarantee your items will still be there when you leave, but you can’t take them with you. This store is hard core.
For all that hassle, you go inside and this store is packed, I mean packed, from floor to ceiling, with a secondhand wonderland. Most of it, I’ll tell you right now, is crap. But the sheer number of crap guarantees a few treasures. The inside isn’t just full of junk, either: on a daily basis that store is as packed as a Ross Dress for Less. It’s insane. Back in the day this store was held in a building three or four times its current size (and it’s not exactly small now) and in high school Anthony or Angela and I used to make the trek a couple towns over in some unreliable car or another and load up. Back then, though, thrifting goodness practically grew on trees.
This skirt was amazing. It was velvet and even brighter in person than it is in pictures. It’s full-length, because you want as much of your body covered in this fabric as possible.
Oh man. When I look at this commuter mug I think, “Damn! That is an awful mug.” And then I think, “Damn! Why didn’t I buy that cute brown mug with the fruit on it underneath that ugly mug!”
This is another one of those Thrift Store Gores that I wish I would have bought. “Grandma,” in Old E? Dude, Grandma is gangsta.
I would like a matching doll that says, “I Have A Restraining Order On You This Much.”
Melynda found this book and I thought it was hysterical. I have never heard of the Pet Psychic but probably everyone else knows about her because she’s on TV. I am glad I have no idea what my pets are thinking. I can only imagine Jupiter’s thoughts are appalling.
Part of me wishes I got this board game to give to my friend Scott. Scott is German so he might appreciate it. Then again, if you look at the illustration of the guy on the front it looks like this game causes nervous breakdowns and possibly severe intestinal distress, so maybe he wouldn’t appreciate it after all.
The only thing more gangsta than a grandma mug would have to be a bright orange Bob Ross shirt. You are killing it today, white people! Killing it.
I also regret not buying this “Senior Adults Have More Fun” backpack. Maybe they do have more fun, but I don’t want to hear about it. Eeeew.
And finally, we have the 1970s version of the pillow pet, except instead of a reasonably normal-looking stuffed animal, we have here a baby doll’s head in a crazy yellow fur suit.
“Snuggle me!” its face commands. “Lay your head on my butt!”
“I’m a bargain!”