Sometimes, being in the thrift store depresses me (although, what doesn't these days). All the racks of clothes and things, turned out and discarded. All the people in the stores, quietly going through the racks.
Still, my favorite things have come from thrift stores:
. bright blue and white polka-dotted blouse with pocket ties
. leather belt with assymetric buckle
. Dr Marten striped sneakers
. black cocktail dress (worn to the rehearsal dinner for my wedding)
. cognac leather peeptoe slingback heels
So I return and hope. You never know, in the sea of crap, there might be one or two fantastic, unique things that you can't find anywhere else.
...
Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.
an excerpt from W.B. Yeats' "The Circus Animal's Desertion"
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