My pal (blogless) Michelle and I went on a huge, all-day, bring-the-truck thrifting run last weekend. Friends, if you don’t have the perfect thrifting buddy, you should go and get one right away, because it’s the very best. Michelle likes almost, almost the same stuff I do, but not quite, and she has perfect taste, so she spots all the good stuff, but we never fight over who gets to buy it. If I hold up a woven plastic curtain printed with turquoise and gold flowers, she’ll say, “I actually think that could be great.”
Here’s how we do this: she picks me up early on a Saturday, and then we methodically visit every thrift shop in two counties. We are immediately tempted by something huge in the first shop—usually, it’s me who’s tempted, and it’s usually a chair. She tells me the chair is great, with this subtext: I will totally respect you if you buy this chair no it is not too gross yes I think you could paint the legs I will help you carry it to the car. I don’t actually need any more chairs, so we manage to resist. (It was amazing! Perfect!) We keep moving, like sharks, lunging past the slower, more meandery thrifters who are obviously not aware that we mean business, and I fill my arms with more than I can carry, while she chooses one perfect vintage pin. We will talk about the tempting chair the whole rest of the day. We agree that the shell-encrusted animals we see literally everywhere are a bit much, but that the owl one is cute. It is absolutely guaranteed that I will spend twice as much as she does, in every shop, and also in total. I haul up a ridiculous lamp and four shower curtains and ten stray bags of other people’s leftover yarn and forty-two baskets and a chipped china teacup and a fishbowl, lugging it all in two carts, and meanwhile she’s over there curating a lovely and manageable collection of five awesome things. Plus, she drives. Seriously, people, get yourself a good thrift buddy.
All the way home, stuffed and sleepy from lunch at Panera, we kept talking about how we couldn’t wait to get home and start making stuff, and about how lousy it would be if we ever ran out of ideas, and how do people who don’t have ideas for stuff to make get through the day? We lamented the sad people who have no ideas.
After she dropped me at home (along with my insane pile of thrifty purchases, which weren’t even as many as last time, but I still made three trips to get it all in the house, which means I have to fill that many bags with outgoing stuff now, so as to not end up on Hoarders) I cleared the table and made this pillow cover. I didn’t really need it, so much as I needed to make it. You know what I mean?
Fabric=thrifted. Feather pillow insert=thrifted (and washed in hot water, three times). Bobbly fringe=thrifted. Crocheted cabbage roses, leftover from something else. See, that’s pretty satisfying.