YEAH, I BUY CLOTHES AT THE THRIFT STORE, SO WHAT?

I live in a country of exorbitant waste and disposable materialism. People want everything they see. They want it because advertisements say they should have it, someone else might want it, have it or get it soon. They want it for a second, use it for a second, until something newer and better comes along, and then they throw it away. Out of sight, out of mind.

Where does all the garbage go? Who cares? Once we bag it, it’s not our responsibility, anymore. Just take it away, please, far enough so we don’t have to see it from our 10,000 square foot gated community Mc Mansions. Let some other slob worry about the garbage, we climb the ladder to work white-collar jobs so we don’t have to.

The THRIFT STORE is not a place where image and status- conscious Americans shop. I know that. I am not one of those. I live in an old (100 + years) country farmhouse. I don’t belong to a gym, get my nails done, have a cleaning person or hire landscapers to mow my lawn, in fact, my grass is way too tall by some standards. I’m not competing with big city executives who “need” to make a good impression. I don’t care what people think. In fact, most people I know don’t judge me by the clothes I wear and I will try to pass this way of life on to my children, who have enough to worry about growing up in this world of war, disease and social injustice than trying to keep up with the latest styles and trends that charm and persuade us to spend more than we have or work ourselves to death trying to keep up. I am sorry for seeing something wrong with a society that compels its citizens to work and buy rather than live and enjoy.

Don’t get me wrong, I like nice things. I just don’t like knowing that some young child is working an 18 hour shift in deplorable conditions so I can have these things. The happiness my possessions bring me is severely impaired by the knowledge that it came to me through someone else’s suffering. I know, it’s crazy. After all, isn’t the American Way to take what you can and the hell with everyone else?

Excuse me for not supporting COMMUNIST CHINA and not wanting to purchase cheap, low quality clothing made by child slaves and sold so conveniently and inexpensively at fine establishments like WALMART that are doing their best to replace small, friendly, local, family-run businesses with corporate greed and mile upon mile of big ugly box warehouse strip malls with ample parking for big, polluting, gas guzzling SUVs.

I’m sorry for supporting an organization that actually gives back to the community and HELPS rather than exploits those in need. WHAT AM I THINKING? I MUST BE INSANE!

Politics aside, I have found more good quality, practically new (and yes, some actually new) clothing (designer labels galore) for a fraction of the original sale prices. An overpriced Old Navy pair of jeans that sells for $20 new can be purchased for $2.99 (sometimes less) in PERFECT condition. Many people discard or donate rather than returning items that don’t fit or suit their sense of taste. The selection of brand new, unused, tags-still-on items, alone, is remarkable. I do not buy items that are dirty, stained, torn or tattered. I am not wearing other people’s dirty underwear or stinky socks. I swear.

I am sorry for contributing to the recycling, recirculation and redistribution of perfectly good, usable merchandise, and thereby decreasing the amount of landfillable trash and $1 a day wage child slavery. I’m sorry for no longer wanting to go into credit card debt just to have what everyone else has or wants and choosing freedom rather than being a slave to fashion and status symbols. I’m sorry that I can fill my closet on less than the cost of a tank of gas or one designer shoe. I’m sorry for wanting to live humbly, simply and authentically, showing my children that greed and waste are NOT GOOD, despite the popular, commercial and corporate hype that says it is.

So, if you find my choice of lifestyle to be in any way embarrassing or intolerable, please, by all means, feel completely free not to associate with me. I am not sorry.