The Day the Music Died

I’m gonna pop some tags! 

Thrift store shopping is all the rage!

Have you noticed there is a thrift store popping up on every corner?

Malls are dying. Thrift shopping is thriving. It’s treasure hunting.

It’s archaeology with air conditioning.

Every rack is a mystery. Every aisle is an adventure. Somewhere between the outdated Christmas sweaters and somebody’s abandoned exercise equipment sits the possibility of finding a designer blouse for four dollars. 

Every rack holds possibilities.

Every aisle whispers, “You don’t need this, but look how cute it is.”

You walk in looking for a sweater and somehow leave with a picture frame, a cookbook, two blouses, a decorative rooster, and absolutely no sweater.

It’s a gift.

Or a disorder.

The jury is still out.

Before thrift shopping became cool, my oldest son was already a fan. He loved hunting for the most eclectic T-shirts imaginable. The stranger the message, the better.

You’d be amazed at what people are willing to put on a white cotton shirt.

As a mom who raised four children, I learned early that bargain hunting wasn’t a hobby—it was a survival skill.

When you’re buying clothes for growing kids, the choice between a brand-new pair of designer jeans at the mall for eighty dollars and the exact same pair at a thrift store for three dollars isn’t really a choice at all.

My boys were clueless about where clothes came from.

They were happy that shirts magically appeared in their closet.

Eventually, it happened. One son asked while putting on a pair of expensive (thrift bought) jeans for school, “Mom, where did these pants come from?” His tone was accusatory.

I did what all good moms did.

I lied.

Target! I answered.

The suspicious nature continued and he announced to me soon after that I was not to buy anymore of his clothes from what he called, the ‘dirty’ store.

Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

The funny thing is that kids can be downright cruel about clothes. Somewhere along the way, they’ve learned to measure worth by labels, logos, and price tags. 

Mostly this is learned from their parent’s prejudices.

Growing up was different than today. We were low on the economic scale so I was thrilled to get hand-me-downs.

Today, I can afford new name brand clothes. BUT why would I pay new prices for what is the same used pair of pants after one wear.

I wonder if the attitude changed about thrift stores when Macklemore and Ryan Lewis came out with the Thrift Shop song. The lyrics read, “I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket” and in the video it shows the artists in thrift shops purchasing what he calls your grandpa’s clothes.

It glorifies the thrift shop experience. 

The song celebrated what thrift shoppers already knew: finding a treasure for pocket change is downright exhilarating.

The fact that shopping at Thrift stores is fun, cool and acceptable has created a whole other set of issues.

My closet.

I have clothes ADHD. 

Apparently, thrift store shopping is an addiction, and I have a problem.

Its for charity.

I feel good, I help others and my closet is satisfied.

Apparently, I buy for the woman I am, the woman I used to be, and the woman I hope to be after losing ten pounds.

All three of us share a closet.

Whether by clearance, sale, or thrift, my outfits reflect an attitude that bargain hunting is my love language.

Now, I do occasionally pay full price but it hurts my inner being.

Yes I can afford to pay more. That is not the point.

Popping tags is my thing, it may not be yours, but at least now, it’s “totally”…awesome!