All the best stories have sequels, and it turns out all the worst ones do, too, because today I bring you the excitement-free conclusion to last week’s ‘Casual Friday‘ post. And you thought Good Friday was LAST week!
(It’s just occurred to me that, by writing these posts, I’m making it seem like my entire life revolves around my infrequent trips to the consignment store, and that I spend the whole week planning what to wear for them, and that is absolutely true. NOT true, I mean. NOT true. Ahem.)
Anyway, in our last instalment of ‘That One Time I Tried to Take My Clothes to the Consignment Store But Forgot to Make an Appointment First’, our plucky heroine had… well, the clue is in the title, really, isn’t it? I had also tried to unlock the car using the remote control for the camera, but I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, no matter how amusing it was in retrospect, which is why I’m about to lose everyone’s good will here by admitting that, like many sequels, this one is nowhere near as good as the original. I opened the car in the normal fashion. I got to the appointment on time. I remembered to bring the bag of clothes with me (at the last minute. As I walking out the door, in fact.). I was PREPARED, people.
What I wasn’t prepared for so much was the fact that the consignment store people would actually open the bag and go through the clothes in front of me, while I stood there watching them and resisting the urge to snatch the prechus items out of their hands, shouting, “What are you doing with my clothes, you varmints?” (I’ve always wanted to use the word “varmint”.) It was a strange experience. The thing is, even although I had spent quite a bit of time preparing my package of clothes, and was 100% sure that they were all items I had no use for, and would never wear again, the second I saw them being picked over
by vultures, I started to doubt myself. That dress I hadn’t worn for two years, for instance: would I REALLY never wear it again? Was it not more likely that, the very second I walked out the door, a situation would present itself in which THAT DRESS was the only possible sartorial choice? Probably.
“You should follow us on Facebook,” said the store owner, cheerfully. “You might see your own clothes!”
“I’ll definitely do that,” I said politely, remembering how I’d unfollowed them on Facebook THAT VERY MORNING, and for THAT VERY REASON. I mean, I’ve written about my sentimental streak before, right? You all know how I form attachments to inanimate objects, and have hard time believing those items don’t have feeeelliiings. Feelings which could be hurt by me ruthlessly abandoning them? In a consignment store, say?
“Oooh, this is nice!” said the woman, pulling a skirt I have never worn, and will never wear, but now feel I should’ve kept just in case, out of the bag. “I think I’ll put this one in the window!”
And that’s why I won’t be able to walk down the street that store is on until that skirt is either sold, or returned to me. (The store keeps the items for three months, and if they haven’t sold in that time, they give them back to their rightful owners. I’m guessing I will be both relieved and insulted if anything comes back to me. It’s hard living inside my head, sometimes, it really is.) It’s also why I’ll never have a career as a boutique owner: another dream shattered!
But, of course, ‘Casual Friday’ was supposed to be about showing you a casual outfit from the week just gone, so here I am, wearing a not-particularly-casual outfit*, which isn’t even the one I wore that day OR the one I originally had on this post, but which I like better than the original. And that, my friends, is why I don’t normally post my causal outfits here. Still, at least these clothes actually still belong to me, hey?
Tune in next Friday, folks, for another thrilling instalment: I promise it won’t be about consignment stores this time…
(*Well, I mean, I don’t know… This is just a skirt and top (with much lower heels than I usually wear), which I would consider fairly causal, but I know a lot of people think that if you’re wearing a skirt AT ALL then you’re “all dressed up”, and if you’re wearing even a tiny heel, you’re obviously on your way to meet the queen or something. Gah.)
[Wearing: Principles skirt // Topshop top // cardigan from local boutique // Charlotte Russe shoes]