Isms: Views on life in rural America

My favorite sport is thrifting.

To borrow from a popular meme: Yes, I shop at thrift stores. No, I am not poor.

Would you pass up a $178 Anthropologie dress, new with tags, for $4.25? What about a box filled with a complete set of fine china for $2.50?

There’s something about finding a diamond in the rough and giving it new life.

I’m not a trash stalker - or stooper, as they’re called on the east coast - but if I saw a perfect good dresser along the side of the road that the hubs could refurbish and flip for profit, I might brake and load.

A recent New York Times article, “The Golden Age of Free Stuff is Among Us,” shares the story of free, discarded items filling New York City streets and the people who swoop in to rescue the deserted pieces from someone else’s life.

According to author Kimiko de Freytas-Tamura, trash stalking “has become so widespread since the start of the pandemic that several Instagram accounts devoted to it have attracted thousands of followers and transformed what used to be a niche activity into a phenomenon.”

She writes about people who have found quality furniture, name-brand clothing, a Korean wedding dress and even a Tiffany bracelet. All free. All in perfectly good - if not new - condition.

The trend is popular on TikTok, too. Floridaflipsters have 120.6 million followers, including me. The couple finds furniture pieces dumped in the trash, hauls them home and showcases the process they use to turn trash into cash. Their latest post features a guitar converted into a wall shelf. Brilliant.

I’m certain my bargain hunting skills were acquired from Grandma Larson. I remember shopping with her at a cozy, church-operated thrift store in Yankton. I’m certain a hand-beaded necklace she bought me at the store for a quarter rests in a dresser drawer at my sister’s house.

When my kids were little, Mom would scour Lincoln thrift shops and fill a shopping bag, for each, with near-new clothing and goodies. They thought they hit the jackpot when Grandma visited.

I’ve landed several great deals over the years, but one of the best was a leather coat, NWT, I found for Courtney when she was in high school. Could I pass up paying $3.25 for jacket that retailed for $300?

Nope. Who doesn’t want to save a buck or two (hundred, that is)?

According to America’s Research Group, a consumer research firm, between 16 and 18% of Americans thrift shop annually. (Does nearly every weekend count? Asking for a friend.)

It’s a multi-billion dollar business, with online sites like ThredUp, Poshmark, Mercari, DePop and eBay, leading the way, with everything from vintage clothing to trendy home goods.

According to a June 2020 CNBC report, “the resale market grew 25 times faster than the retail market last year, with an estimated 64 million people buying secondhand products in 2019.”

I play the market all the time. If I don’t love a piece of clothing in my closet, I list it. Sometimes, items sell in a matter of hours. Other times, it may sit for months before it finds a new home.

Some people name drop brands so you know how expensive their clothing and lifestyle choices are. Me, not so much.

Cannot count the times I’ve heard, “Oh, I like your outfit. You look like a million bucks.”

“Thanks,” I reply. “I pulled this little ensemble together for $7.50.”

Classic.