I plan to submit something for PROMPTuesday soon, because I can’t stand letting a spooky “what’s in the basement” story go unexplored, but first: let’s talk more superficial things.
Like clothes and shoes and miscellaneous knicks and knacks.
So maybe you know about my passion for thrifting? I took it a step further last night, but wait:
A moment of silence for the new Steve Madden shoes I found at the Salvation Army for two dollars and 50 cents ($2.50). New, unworn, and non-skeevy.
I can’t stop gloating about these shoes. It’s very unflattering and I do apologize.
BUT TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS!
Does that make me cool or trashy?
I haven’t decided.
In related news, I thought it’d be neat to put together a “swap” party, where us ladies brought the clothes we don’t wear anymore. Also the shoes, the jewelry, the unused purses, unopened beauty products, outgrown kids’ clothes and dusty household items for others to browse and take if they were so inclined. At first, I was doubtful it would work. Did anybody really want unused Dove deodorant in a baby powder scent?
Yep, someone did.
But backing up for a moment…
I methodically went through my closet and heartlessly ripped clothes off the hanger that I hadn’t worn in a year or longer. These items included the gut-hugging faux concert t-shirt, the tank top I never found the right bra for, and the tight dress I never fit into despite repeated sacrifices to the diet gods.
I packed it all up, cut some pita, spooned hummus for an appetizer and headed to my friend’s house where we all
gently laid tossed our clothes in “sectors” (pants, dresses, coats, shoes, etc.). Home goods and the aforementioned Dove deodorant hung out on the kitchen table.
I’ve got to tell you that at first there was shyness. No one wanted to adopt the crazed garage saler mentality in front of friends, so we quietly conversed and
ate cake gulped wine/cookies/meatballs for about an hour.
Then, things went bananas.
First, my friend snatched up the Seven bootcut jeans (even though I told her they didn’t fit her right, which was a bald-faced lie); then there went the backpacks, the hurricane vases, the Banana Republic silk cami, the cookbooks, the wine caddy, even the freaking deodorant.
Lo! The swap party rocked.
Since my goal remained to get rid of stuff, and not accumulate more, I chose a few well-edited items:
Just a few things for the girls’ room, an MP3 player for Toots, and a pair of Paper Denim & Cloth jeans. Because a girl’s gotta have 453 pieces of denim in her life.
I need to tell you: this party went off without a hitch. Everyone walked away happy and either unloaded old crap or left saddled with new crap. Even the potluck chocolate cake went to a lucky swapper.
And I’m not even kidding you.
I think you should have a swap party too.
Do it for the environment.
And of course, the 454th piece of denim.