Thrift Store Queen
A collector of all things delightfully kitsch.
Above me hangs a square sign in its tarnished white and star-printed glory. Rusted bikes, Fisher-Price kitchen playsets, and dated plastic picnic chairs sit in front of the glass doors on the sidewalk. What will I discover today? I push the heavy metal handle and walk inside, hearing the hustle and bustle of some of the most unique shoppers around. A garbage pit to some, this is my tshatshke goldmine; my penny-pincher Olympics. This is my favorite gem, the Red White and Blue Thrift Store.
Some people kayak or garden, I thrift. Occupying most of my Saturdays pre-Covid, my partner and I would seek out hole-in-the-wall shops. It’s kind of like visiting a white trash museum. If you’re looking for a real steal, you have to be vigilant. I follow the layout of the store carefully, starting with the picture frames and moving onto the glassware and dishes. Occasionally, you can find some vintage Pyrex or gold-rimmed crystal wine glasses from the 1950s. I giggle to myself reading the discarded mugs that say things like “Grandmas warm the heart” or “Pittsburgh University Mom”. I bought that one for my girlfriend years before she was pregnant. She now drinks out of it unironically.
Beyond the water-stained silverware and colanders, you find the potential re-sells, the action figures. Dating a man that collects a million Batman and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle paraphernalia, this is more his fortress of solitude. He’s found a couple of hidden gems like Kenner rejects and underpriced Marvel heroes. To my chagrin, most of the toys come home with us. One day he picked up this chipped, odd black guitar with a speaker implanted in the body. A “Sinsonics Terminator” guitar. Spent $20 and some refurbishing, he sold it for $250 on eBay. I on the other hand mosey onto the losers of the doll section. Plastic bags full of decapitated baby heads and naked barbies for $2.00 per lot. I started to see these tiny, Harlequin clown dolls at almost every thrift we visited. Quirky by nature, I started to buy one if I came across it. Weirdly enough, their brightly colored satin costumes and porcelain faces were kind of charming. At check out, the cashier refused to touch the one I was purchasing. “ABSOLUTELY NOT, I don’t mess with clowns. That’s some ‘Annabelle’ thing right there.” I was delighted at her intense aversion.
My main quest is finding clothes on the cheap. If you’re handy with a needle and some thread, no one will know that peplum blouse with a tiny rip was $3.00. Most shops don’t have a designated dressing room, but if a piece doesn’t fit once you get home? Your wallet won’t miss those couple bucks. The dress section is my Holy Grail. Colorful florals and wrap-style minis are forgiving, to say the least. As a bonus, you get to gawk at the junked taffeta bridesmaid dresses and loud, rainbow jeweled Quinceanera rejects. I always feel a little sad coming across wedding dresses. Even 80s style puffy shoulders and thick heavy lace tells a potential story of heartbreak and tragedy.
Used shoes don’t bother me a bit. Just close your eyes and think of England if you’ve come to try on without socks. This section is not for amateurs. The aisles are small and crammed with at least two full carts jamming their way through. There always seems to be one mid-fifties man wandering back and forth, hindering your quest for a killer pair of pumps. You must snatch quickly if you see a winner. Women who found their exact size are savage shoppers, respectfully. I once teetered around this lady like a cat ready to pounce on her prey. As soon as she stepped to the left, I grabbed these wonderfully busy, nude suede flats I just had to have. They were covered with ornate silver skulls and rhinestones; I am unabashedly attracted to all things tacky and obnoxious. I’ve squatted on the bottom shelf for Nine West “interview worthy” slip-ons. I’ve plucked a pair of Steve Madden jellies from across the rack. I ran back in with cash in hand after regretting buying these tassel moccasin boots. In which I was asked by a dad at a grocery store one day, “Excuse me, Miss, where did you buy those? My daughter really loves them.” My response crushed this poor guy’s effort; they were one of a kind.
Thrifting is an activity in itself, but so is encountering the colorful customers and cashiers. The same raven-haired, kind-faced lady is yelling for more 5 and 10 dollar bills. The same frosted, pink-nailed cashier is clicking away with her wefts of blonde hair neatly piled on her head, showcasing layers of hair-sprayed bangs. You have the frazzled mom tirelessly convincing her 6-year-old that he does not need the dinged Razor scooter. My favorite day was seeing the Gene Simmons look-a-like. Yes, this guy is apparently infamous around the Pittsburgh area. Same frizzy black hair, leather jacket, and aviators. He was cool, casual, and I regret not spying on his purchase. What was he there for? Maybe a lovely silver tea set and a cherub figurine.
I think the section of “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid where Ariel is admiring her collection of nick-nacks is myself in aquatic form. I also like to choose objects that speak to me. Like this water globe of a red Cardinal covered in sparkly snow that reminds me of my late father. Or my silk scarf collection, patterned with polka dots, that reminds me of when I went through my mother’s dresser drawers as a child. I also stumbled upon this darling cherry-printed canister. It matched nothing in my pumpkin orange kitchen. Binging Gilmore Girls for the umpteenth time, I noticed the same canister on Lorelai’s counter next to her beloved coffee maker. Pop culture score! Another pop culture score? The luxurious faux fur coat I paid $7 for to complete a Cruella Deville costume for Halloween.
Finding charm in used items adds character you didn’t realize you needed. You could call it “adding crap to your already small living space” but I use the term “Cluttercore”. Cluttercore is the opposite of a minimalistic aesthetic. An aesthetic that honestly makes me cringe from lack of unique style. I need trinkets, funky vases, and exquisitely tacky accessories. I’ve received so many compliments on thrift store items from a cute pair of shoes to chunky costume jewelry. If you make it yours and wear it with confidence, no one has to know your budget. Everything has a story and past that you can buy for under 5 bucks. I laugh every time my unnerving Harlequin clown moves robotically in its circus drum when I twist the music key. Life is much too boring if you’re plain. Thrift on, quirky queens.
About the Creator
Natalie Braden
Just a manic creative, lazy wanna-be Wiccan, baby puke covered childcare teacher looking for an outlet to write.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.