I haven’t been into any thrift stores since I moved to Baltimore – I was so comfortable with making the rounds in Redding and digging through the sometimes nasty dollar a bag bin at People of Progress. But some of the kickin’ ladies from work planned a thrift store extravaganza as part of the Memorial Day weekend celebration so I tagged along. We started off at the Book Thing by my house, the best bookstore ever because everything is free. Most places were closed (they are way more observant of Sundays here) but we did stop by a huge store on York – I think it was Value Village – and there was the funniest woman there. She was older, super thin, and suspiciously full of spastic energy. I try to think the best of people so I’m going to assume that she just has high levels of natural endorphines. Anyway, she skittered the perimeter of the store several times with her cart, flitting between colorful items and holding them up with a flourish against her chest.

She then struck up an animated conversation with my friends who had turned one corner of the store with a faded mirror into a makeshift dressing room (given the lack of any official amenities). I was impressed with their ingenuity of using gigantic mu mus as coverings as they wiggled in and out of potential finds. The woman joined right in the fun, although at times she eschewed the mu mu method and just whipped in and out of the clothing, fortunately leaving her undershirt on for the most part.

Two things struck me about this scene – first, how very amazing these three friends are. Not only do they want to shop at thrift stores, and are creative when faced with the lack of a formal dressing room, but they were so warm and treated this woman with respect even though she was, in Deborah’s terms, “a little spazzy.”

Second, it was striking how even though none of us HAD to shop at a thrift store and this woman probably didn’t have those other options, there was still a point of connection in the shared experience of trying to find something that flattered various body types in spite of our largely self-perceived “trouble areas.” I’ve shared moans in dressing rooms with strangers before, bonding over a swimsuit that pinched or for me, the upteenth pair of pants that were too short. I’ve never experienced this phenomena in a thrift store, though. It was good to share that connection with someone I probably wouldn’t interact with if we met in any other place, although my feminist side could dissect the reasons why women automatically look at how an item accentuates our flaws – but that’s another post.

We also stopped at this great Asian food store that reminded me of the grocery next to Racha Noodle back home on 273. I found sticky rice, so as soon as I can find some decent mango, sweet sticky rice will be steaming in my kitchen.