Economic Stimulus

I grew up wearing other kids’ clothes, mostly Mary Frances Todd’s. Even before my mom got sick and we got really poor, Mrs. Todd would show up at church two or three times a year with a bag of Mary Frances’ old clothes for me. I never thought much about it, except for one particular pink satin shift dress that hung on me like a sack. My mother was thrilled with it and made me wear it for every Special Occasion, but I hated the thing. Other than that one dress, though, I don’t think it ever occurred to me that clothes should be flattering. Or actually fit. Or be new.

Eventually we lost touch with Mrs. Todd and her daughter’s clothing, and I moved on to buying my clothes at thrift stores. The problem was that I was a big girl—5-foot-4 in the fourth grade—and there weren’t a lot of cast-off girls’ clohes that fit me. I ended up wearing lots of boys’ clothes and grown-up-lady outfits, which I can see now must have been sort of inappropriate, but at the time it was just the way I dressed.

As I got older, I began assembling outfits for comic effect. I thought clothes were good if they made me laugh. I had theme ensembles with special names like Methodist Christmas or Clash of the Tartans. You can get away with a lot when you’re young; guys dated me anyway. But as I got older, I realized that people weren’t giving me the benefit of the doubt the way they used to. They stopped assuming my little outfits were “ironic” and started thinking I really meant it.

I decided I should try to buy real clothes, like from a normal store. So when my $24 plastic H&M handbag started to fall apart, I went to the Lord & Taylor department store to try shopping. It is very strange when you need something to just go see what some store has and then pick an item from that selection. First, Lord & Taylor did not have any handbags that made me laugh. I kept walking back and forth through the handbag department, and I didn’t see anything I could even imagine carrying around. It was all so … bland. On my fourth trip through the department I finally spotted a red, sort-of satchel that I thought was maybe okay. I wasn’t enthusiastic about it, the way I would be about a handbag that looked like an actual saddle, with little stirrups on it, or an inflatable one made out of green quilted plastic, or a big, white, plastic shoulder bag with a working wall clock embedded in the side—all of which I have owned.  But I am trying to be a grown-up now.

So I was looking at the red satchel for maybe 15 seconds before some poor, desperate saleslady attached herself to me. It was so grim: She kept telling me what a great handbag it was, and how beautiful, and so on, which kind of begged the question of why it was jammed down on the lowest shelf of the clearance table. Then I looked at the price.

Okay, why should any handbag cost $600? That’s insane. And yes, I know there are bags that cost thousands of dollars—Hermes and Louis Vuitton and Gucci and Chanel—but that’s even crazier. Even if it were hilarious, I wouldn’t pay that much for a bag. But the desperately friendly saleslady helpfully pointed out that $600 was what the satchel used to cost, and now it was on sale. She also told me that the hat I was wearing was very pretty. My hat is a black Afghani man’s hat that Sluggo bought for $5 from a street vendor 15 years ago, and it is a lot of things but pretty isn’t one of them. I felt very sorry for the saleslady.

I didn’t know what to say, and I guess I was kind of just looking at her, so she started running through all the fine, fine, superfine  features of the bag again. Meanwhile, I was doing math in my head, figuring the reduced price, minus the one-day-sale additional discount, minus the amount taken off for an internet coupon I’d printed out, minus a gift card I’d won at a Christmas party … My final, out-of-pocket cost for this supposed-to-be $600 bag was going to be $50.  Even then I thought about just walking up to H&M and getting another $24 plastic handbag, or maybe even trying to repair the one I already owned. But when I told the saleslady I was going to think about it, she got all pale and I was afraid she might get ill. So I bought the red satchel for $50.

Now I’m carrying my new handbag, and it’s fine and all. I don’t really care about it one way or another. For sure, it doesn’t make me laugh. It just reminds me of that desperate, sad saleslady telling me I have a pretty hat. I don’t understand people who say they like to shop. I don’t think I will ever understand them.

Comments

[Libby]

This post reminds me of me. Things, items of clothing especially, are so much more interesting and "cool" or whatever if I find them accidentally and they aren't expensive. There is nothing appealing about a pair of shoes if they cost $500 and up. Where's the fun, the creativity, in that?? Shopping is no fun. Discovering something unexpected, amusing, and unique and paying 20 bucks for it is always more satisfying. I bet you get the most compliments on "finds" (like your hat, for example)---at least that's the case in my orbit.

[JMet]

Don't worry Bronwyn, there are far more interesting ways to express your personality then through a handbag!

[craig]

did you get the hat from those guys who lurked by dojo? i loves me my hat from them. i don't blame the lady.

[Dale]

In college I was a thrift shop hound, and I used to wear things like marching band uniforms, or priests shirts (I just put a strip of stiff white paper into the collar), or the ubiquitous (for the 70s and 80s) bowling and Hawaiian shirts. In the 90s I even did the 70s polyester for a while, but you sweat too damn much in that stuff.

The problem with thrifting now is that the clothes are from the 90s or the early Aughts -- Old Navy, Sears, Macy's or TJMaxx stuff. I haven't seen ANYTHING at the Salvay I'd want to wear today, and the prices are bordering on new discounted merchandise anyway. I never see those great long wool car coats we all wore every winter, or those wollen suitcoats with flecks of pink or turquoise in the weave. Funky old ties have all but disappeared. Today you have to look in odd dollar stores for fun stuff. My wife bought some nice 'Love Is..." sweatbands and Buffalo Bills panties for Christmas gifts at one of those places. Interesting is still out there, just a lot harder to find.

[queensissy]

Ha ha! I just have to second Libby's comment. When I was reading this, I thought, "Wait, did I write this?" I've turned down jobs because I knew I couldn't hack the wardrobe requirements.

[Jennifer Steffey]

Thank you for writing this. I have always felt stifled in fancy shmancy department stores. I even worked in one as a teenager and could not make myself call customers by name after handing back their credit cards. It felt so insincere and wrong.

This winter I finally had to throw out some black jeans after many years of wear because of holes in inappropriate places. I looked for a replacement and even had a panic attach at Uniqlo in the process. Lucky for me there is a great thrift store called Aquarius in East Williamsburg where I found authentic, navy pants with loads of buttons across the front. I felt like I won a prize when I bought them. Shopping should always be a treasure hunt.

[Angus]

I have to add my comments, because I went shopping yesterday after I finished work ;-) and because I used to work in thrift stores, or charity shops as they're called here in England. The staff were instructed to look out for famous labels and anything in good condition from large stores were given pride of place. I saw a small number of interesting clothes, some of them hand made. My coworkers threw out hand knitted sweaters, saying they didn't sell, which broke my heart, as the work that went into them was often impressive. Some of them had no idea what retro meant and wanted to throw out dresses and blouses that were too old fashioned.

I cringe at high price tags and I hate malls. Most of my clothes used to come from charity shops. I've gone off them now because the stock on sale is too bland, and because there are several stores in England now that offer very low priced and fairly well made items. Primark is my favorite: my last purchase there was a pair of black jeans for £10 (about $20). I've bought cashmere mix sweaters and cotton smocks for work from Primark, and also wonderful leopard coats, fedoras, sequinned shrugs, and funky frilled underwear. The prices are low enough to buy things that make me smile without having to worry about where I'm going to wear them. The British fashion magazines encourage their readers to indulge their fancy for trends at Primark and the other discount shops. Many other major stores too have started offering low priced lines to compete.

However, the stores are suffering - the Christmas period saw record lows for sales. Even though it's Feburary many stores are advertising sales of 70% off. I bought two pairs of shoes yesterday. First I went to TK Maxx (a store that offers major labels at discount prices) but didn't see anything I liked. I ended up at a major shoe store, Clark's, which had multiple racks of shoes that had their prices cut three or four times. The salesgirl couldn't believe that a pair I selected was originally £45 and were now marked £13.50.

More and more of my sweaters, shrugs, and bags are home made. My husband taught me how to knit three years ago. We belong to a knitting circle which gets together every two weeks to chat and work on projects. The members have made some stunning shawls, scarves, tops, and sweaters that people would pay a fortune for in Lord and Taylors. The wonderful thing is that even with very basic knitting skills I was able to take beautiful yarns and create gorgeous items.

One of my best results was a handbag I copied from a picture I saw of the Chanel winter collection: I made it in fun fur yarn and added a chain to it. It looks great and it gives me far more pleasure than sporting a purse which costs a fortume.

I also get a lot of pleasure buying wool and yarn: the big companies and small producers offer so many luxurious fibers- cashmere, angora, pure silk- some of them hand dyed. Even with the more expensive wools people can create garments or accessories that cost a fraction of the price of designer items. It always delights me when I see a person wearing something that's handknitted or crocheted: the uniqueness often stands out a mile.

[Garth]

The last couple of years I've had a job that forced me finally stop chosing my clothes on the basis of their comic value. I'm looking forward to retirement (only 36 years or so to go!)

[James]

Want to feel sad? The local Goodwill used to have a 40 foot open dumpster in back that they filled up every 2-5 days. Anything weird that came in the front door went right out the back and into the dumpster. I used to find all sorts of great stuff- clothing, a 1920's accordion, dress maker's dummies, books, 78s.

They caught me in the dumpster one time, and told me to leave. I actually went in, talked to the manager, and offered to buy things they were throwing away. She looked at me nervously, and said "we don't throw anything away" and turned and walked off.

A couple weeks later, they had a trash compactor, so no more dumpster diving.

Bastards.