Thrifting a Goodwill Outlet Center isn’t just challenging: It is a trying test of spirit and will. I’ve been at it for two years now, and it knocks me on my ass EVERY SINGLE TIME.
High volume thrift is a dangerous journey. Here’s how the clothes-by-the-pound game is played:
- Approach massive bin of donated crap.
- Plunge arms into bottom of bin; grab as much clothing as wingspan/bicep strength allows; yank in upward direction.
- Sift through first pull; put promising items into cart.
- Repeat 4-5 times for current bin.
- Repeat steps 2-4 for every subsequent bin.
How large is a massive bin of donated crap? Five feet wide, nine feet long, four feet deep – and that’s a conservative guess.
How many massive bins of donated crap exist at Goodwill Outlet Center? Forty or so – enough to scare the shit out of me.
Why do I continue to frequent a place that leaves me battered and brain-fried? Because it’s the biggest payoff in the history of thrift. (Also, because I need stock for my thriftique: We bust our asses to find it cheap so we can price it cheap. You’re welcome. :P)
Sifting through mountains of damages, stains, dated fugliness and suspicious odors isn’t fun by a long shot; trying the stuff on when you’re done sure as hell is, but it’s not the ultimate reward. The best part of all the work that goes in to foraging kickass stock? Watching someone fall in love with something it took me hours to find. Sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I guess I’m in the right business.
A few finds from my latest AuH2O stock run.
More laters. Mwah!
P.S. Dig the polaroid frames?! Picnik, I LOVE YOU. :P