As soon as I walked through the door I was exhausted. Shopping in general wears me out and shopping in any kind of thrift or discount store is exponentially worse since nothing is particularly organized or neatly displayed. Instead of browsing you have to sift through racks and racks of mismatched clothes in search of the single gem in the proverbial haystack. (So I mixed metaphors; sue me.)
I had come this far, however, so I started in on my task. Minutes passed. More minutes. And just as I was about to lose hope the clouds parted and the heavenly choir struck up a chord and a beam of ethereal light shone down upon a pair of straight leg brown corduroy pants.
Now, if you have to know anything about me and fashion, you have to know these three things:
- I sported (and immensely enjoyed) straight-leg pants long before they were in fashion.
- Brown is one of my very favorite colors.
- I love corduroy; maybe too much.
Now I was on a roll. Some additional sifting unearthed a green, double-breasted, polyester suit jacket and a brown corduroy purse for $1.25 (I didn't buy the purse, but finding it was a sort of personal victory). I screwed my courage to the sticking place and tried my wares out in the "fitting room." This place, a PVC pipe construct surrounded with heavy curtains, provided privacy enough, but then there was nothing to stop another unwitting shopper from whipping open the curtains while I bent over bare-assed. I was not exposed, however, and the jacket and pants fit like a polyester/corduroy dream. Again, the angels sang.
In the end I smugly signed off on the receipt for $5.25. As someone who believes that no piece of clothing (jeans, suit jacket, formal dress, etc.) should cost more than $10, this part was particularly gratifying. I'm about as poor as they come, but there's nothing about two items of clothing for less than a tank of gas that isn't worth my hard-earned bucks.