Thrifty business: tales from the vat
By Christopher DaCosta
My first dealings with the dark underworld of thrift store clothes began when I was a young boy of 7. While in the depths of the city, I used to steal glances at voguish vintage-wearing Sydney-siders of the early 90s back in my Australian homeland. From statement-making buttons on leather jacket lapels to striped halter-tops, my tumultuously gaudy love affair with pre-owned clothes began.
In the midst of high school senior portrait drama and college application woes was spirit week. A trip to the local Goodwill was in order.
As a second-hand store neophyte, my mind raced and my palms sweated profusely â€" would one shopping trip turn me into the edgy retro pinup that I so desperately craved to be?
In my head, I saw racks of glamorous club-jackets and cool seventies apparel. I had my new outfit planned from head to toe â€" stylish newsboy cap, aviators, old-school t-shirt, flares and chunky Doc Marten's. I had to steady my giddy little self in the parking lot of the Palo Alto Goodwill.
As I walked into the store, my delusions of grandeur plummeted back to earth â€" where were all the tasteful rhinestone studded clothes? Wedged between the hideous fluorescent ceiling and the threadbare carpet were huge vats of "scrap fabric" and tacky wigs.
My friend, Carol, squealed in delight as she rushed to try on a stringy, balding hairpiece. "I've always wanted to be a redhead," she said, enthused. I shuddered at the thought of pre-owned head juice. Then I choked. Partly out of disgust, partly because the aroma of stuffy old man pants from the tapered trousers aisle had infiltrated my nostrils.
After an hour of rifling through my city's hand-me-downs, I left with the basics to begin a stint in the army.
As an older and wiser college student, my thrift store resume was augmented by a trip to San Francisco's Haight Street. Suddenly, I was launched into the Rodeo Drive of urban bohemian couture. With a variety of hip prints and textures, my wardrobe took a dramatic turn toward the funky.
I discovered that plaid and striped patterns had weaseled their way into my repertoire along with their trademark thrift. The city has an eclectic variety of pre-owned apparel â€" from dirt cheap to the absurdly expensive.
While wandering down Haight Street, I discovered many boutiques which seem deceptively cheap, until you turn over that price tag for that awesome pleather jacket.
In this week's Scene, we'd like to welcome you to the world of thrifty trends by providing you with a guide to the area. As Scene Staffer Michelle Murphy reports, there are a variety of second-hand stores close to campus. You can also diagnose your "thriftitude" with this week's top ten.
Most of all, remember to give thrift stores a chance. Despite the funky smell, a little Tide usually works wonders and besides, you'll always have vats o' fun rummaging through pre-owned clothes.