Weird Bird in Love

As an anthropologist, I’m naturally wary of sweeping cultural generalizations. Even positive stereotypes can be hurtful, because they can impede our ability to perceive the Other as he/she truly is. But the more time I spend in Minnesota, the more convinced I become that Minnesotans really are more orderly and pleasant than most of the rest of us. Years ago Tilt and I stopped by a Michael’s craft store near his parent’s home, in a suburb of St. Paul. I normally avoid Michael’s because they tend to be disorganized to the point of chaos, with products misplaced and unpriced, and the staff tend to be clueless and unable to help with finding things or telling you how much things cost. The Minnesota Michael’s was an amazing exception – tidy and user-friendly, with helpful and well-informed staff.

On the trip from which we just returned, I had a similar experience with a Goodwill store. My friendly neighborhood thrift blogger Kristin had put it in my head to check out Minnesota thrift stores… and then while we were out and about, I kept seeing all these beautiful big-butted Minnesota mamas and thinking, “These are my people! Thrift stores here will have clothing that fits me!” So while Zag was napping, one day during our stay with Tilt’s parents, borrowed a car and headed out for the nearest Goodwill. I don’t know if I gasped audibly when I walked in the door, but I may well have. The store was airy, attractive, clean, and well-organized. The racks of clothes were all labeled and not over-filled, and there was ample room to push a cart among them. The stalls for trying things on were as nicely-made and attractive as those in many mall stores. It was amazing. I took this picture with my cell phone, so it’s not great quality, but it gives you some sense. Look at that shining expanse of open floor in the foreground!

The clothing was good quality and in good condition, and prices were pretty good – maybe a dollar less, on average, than in the Cambridge Goodwills? The Eagan, MN Goodwill shop might just be a perfect 6 – it seemed un-picked-over, and there was nice stuff there, which made me feel scores were quite possible, in spite of the lack of clutter. If I lived nearby, I’d check it at least once a week. I spent a very happy hour and a half picking things out and trying things on, and spent $27 on a pair of jeans (really nice Lands End, perfect condition, fit well), three pairs of shorts/summer pants, a nice semi-dressy pale pink Avenue sweatshirt, a pair of bike shorts, and probably a couple of other things I’m forgetting. The thing it was hardest to walk away from was a Haba decorative pillow. Haba baby stuff is both expensive and adorable, but there was no room for this in our luggage, and we haven’t got any babies just at the moment, in any case.

After I came home with my bag of loot, my father-in-law – a faithful reader of this blog – commented to me that he thought my pledging not to buy any new clothes for two months was interesting, because he regularly goes for two months – and longer – without having the slightest inclination to buy clothes, new or second-hand. An interesting point: one person’s ascetic discipline is another person’s normal life. Clearly I like to shop for clothes, or taking the pledge would be pointless… and I’d probably be a thrift shopper even if I couldn’t convince myself that thrift shopping is a principled act of defiance of the hegemonic fashion/garment industry. In explanation of my rushing off to thrift stores on a regular basis (weekly, if I can find the time), I do think that thrift shopping requires different shopping habits than shopping for new clothes. When you want something new, you go to places that might have it, in stores or online, and look until you find something that will fit, at a price you’re willing to pay. When you’re a thrift shopper, you are always on the lookout. You can’t really go thrift shopping looking for some particular thing, though you can certainly keep a mental list of things to look out for. The thrill of thrifting is never knowing what you’ll find – maybe that perfect pair of black pants you’ve needed for years, maybe a pair of shorts that are miraculously neither long and dumpy nor short and skanky, maybe a dreamy vintage wool jacket for your kid, maybe nothing at all. Keeping up a wardrobe by thrift shopping just demands more shopping, I think, than buying clothes new. The price of thrifting is eternal vigilance. Fortunately, some of us enjoy it.

The trip was great, but I missed my blog. More soon.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 11th, 2007 at 9:49 pm and is filed under Thrifting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.