- Purple “deer” shirt – thrifted
- Tan vest – Old Navy
- Trouser jeans – Dish
- Multi-colored scarf – thrifted
- Geode necklace – museum
- Tan peep toes – thrifted
Earlier this week I took a research trip to the big city, on the hunt for a possibly awesome fossil for a possibly awesome exhibit. Because I was meeting with fancy-schmancy smarty pants, I dressed nicely: purple blouse, tan blazer, denim pencil skirt, and tan heels. I liked the color combination so much I recreated a casual version for an afternoon of thrift shopping. This scarf, with its purples, blues and tans, was made for this outfit, but I didn’t wear it for style, I wore it for sweet, sweet thrifting revenge. Revenge on Blanche, my thrifting arch nemesis.
You all know a Blanche. She’s a drafter, always staying just a foot behind you, ready to snatch up anything you pick up and then put back down. She’s also a blocker, sticking her cart right in the middle of the aisle. But it gets worse. Blanche is a dropper – she’ll “accidentally” drop something in your cart, and then “accidentally” take something of yours with her when she removes it. And no matter what thrift store you go to, there she is. Most days I could handle Blanche. That is, until she went too far.
Our face-off happened in the local Goodwill (or G-Dubs, as us hardcore thrifters call it) the day all the scarves were $0.50. Blanche and I were going through the bin at the same time, but I’d found all the good ones. Gleefully skipping through the store with my arms full of plaids, florals, stripes, and little Dutch children to put in my hair and around my neck, I went into a dressing room to try on a skirt. A dressing room that did not have a full wall between my room and the next. As I was trying on my skirt, I glanced down to see that an arm had reached under my wall, and a hand had grabbed my beautiful blue, purple and tan striped scarf was was slowly inching it out of my dressing room. Blanche!
I put my foot on the scarf, but Blanche didn’t let go! So I grabbed one end, Blanche had the other, and we were playing tug-o-war between the two dressing rooms. I finally stood up, looked over the dressing room wall, and yelled at her to stop. I won the battle (and the scarf), but since then every time Blanche and I run into each other, it becomes showdown at high noon, her standing by tableware, me standing in sweaters, both knowing that this Savers isn’t big enough for the two of us.
So now, every once in a while when I go thrifting, I wear this scarf, just in case I run into Blanche. Gloating is fun, especially when it includes cute accessories.
*Probably not her real name. I suspect I was watching a lot of Golden Girl reruns around the time I decided to name her. But she looks like a Blanche. No white hair, though. That’d just be too literal.