You sons-a-bitches! Take down your old yard sale signs. I’m looking for the best junk there is, so don’t waste my time.
Careful What I Wish For…
…the first time I spent some good money on myself at an auction, I couldn’t wait to show my sister that was in town. When dealer me showed her the vintage, gothic, brass mirror that I intended for my entry way, she said, “It’s okay. I’m sure you can find someone that will want to buy that thing.” I couldn’t help looking back at myself.
My niece often reaches out to me to admit things. I think she is subconsciously looking for validation of her actions. I feel terrible that she finds the need for these types of confessions, mainly because I know that I have genetically added to her struggles with adoption thrifting.
A recent example relates to the silver and bright-red maxi dress. You see, it wasn’t her size but that didn’t keep it from still being vintage GORGE! hanging on the rack. I’m the one that realizes what she is seeing in front of her is a piece of history hung by a noose. Watching that dress on its lonely display was enough but thinking about walking away is the struggle. She sees that noose hanger as strangling the dress. If she walks away, it is sure to go to a premature death.
I know that time, between trying to pretend she never saw it and turning her back, is torment for her. I also know that’s when she starts to rationalize with her current economies. I know because this time challenge is also hereditary. She’s most likely talking to herself in the middle of a bargain outlet:
– I’m already shopping thrift, not retail.
– It costs less than it did in 1973.
– I don’t spend our money on smokes or alcohol.
– I can resell it, someday, if I can find it a good home.
– I can start a second vintage wardrobe for when I’m older and have put on a few more pounds (the fact that it may also be 6″ too long for her small frame is a later battle).
That’s all how her adoptions happen. That’s how the financial guilt needlessly eats away at her. Again, it is hereditary. We need to account for our dimes and nickels, even if it seems irrational. Issues of adoption and finances are difficult for any married couple. However, she’s not married yet. She does have a ring and a date though, so that’s where this mindset has become an obligation.
While I am her vintage aunt, I think she needs more vintage-appreciating girlfriends. She needs them as an additional resource to know how to address the other loves of her life. The problem is bigger than me or any closet space I can provide.
Perhaps a group that she can call in times of need? Accompany her for a shopping high? Reach out to when she is in a fix? There must be others than can help her rationalize her inexpensive needs?
I love that she reaches out to me and her stories become my stories. Rather than enabling her and continuing to absolve her of her confessions, I too need to focus on the hereditary science of it all and address the root of the problem. She’s not a DIVA but this has helped me realize that is exactly what she needs – other DIVAS. I will form the club for her. I know at least two dealers that will be willing to co-founder with her. They could meet once a week and embrace their namesake – Daughters of Insane Vintage Adoptions. It has to happen sooner, rather than later. We must bond together, know we are not alone and stop the public hangings!