My Mom Was A Garage Sale Shopper

I hate to shop … didn’t always feel that way … tomorrow I’ll spill all my reasons for why I HATE to shop… they are good reasons too.  But for now, I must figure out a plan B.

I wait until my wardrobe is starting to fray, fade, split and otherwise fall apart.  I dread schlepping from store to store and trying things on.  However, today I thought why not?!?!  I REALLY didn’t want to organize my office.  The lesser of two evils was shopping so I start out on my trek.  The choices were simply ridiculous … too many for starters. But I managed to find two pair of shoes and two pair of pants for just under $100 total.  I will NOT pay full retail price for anything.  Sale only, wash and wear or I won’t even try it on.  Dry clean is not for me.  You see I learned from the best since my mom was a garage sale shopper.

Born in 1932, during the Great Depression, the youngest of six children who lived on a rural farm in Runge Texas, she didn’t have much growing up.  Her mother made all their clothes and took in work sewing and ironing to help make ends meet.  Rarely was anything purchased new.   The family was the epitome of waste not want not.  Traits she carried into our family and demonstrated every day.  Daddy too, very much an example of frugality.

I have a funny frugal memory of standing in line at Shopper’s World to get Shasta soda. The price was 10 for a dollar but there was a limit of 10.  That meant everyone in the family joined in.  All five or six of us; standing across three check-out lanes; each with our $1 ready to go.  I thought I was so special and grown up to be able to pay for my own.  I remember selecting all of mine to be the cream soda flavor simply because I liked the color of the can.  My parent’s couldn’t pass up the bargain plus we’d be stocked up for our camping trips.  I also remember wanting an astro-pop but being told no, you don’t need any candy and it’s too expensive.

Oops, I forgot to warn you I was veering off the path.  Anyway out of the rabbit hole and back to this regularly scheduled program.

When I was growing up, I wore uniforms to school.  I’d wear the same non-uniform outfit after school everyday for a week.  I would get a box of hand-me-downs from my cousins in Galveston twice a year or so.  That was a bonanza to me, just like shopping and I LOVED opening up that big ole box.  Surprise, last year’s fashion and all for FREE.  My Grandmother would make me a new dress for my birthday.

Because of this, there was not a lot of retail therapy in my life.  Mom would hit up garage sales and she always found some gems.  I was in 6th or 7th grade before I remember shopping in a retail store with her.  And that is more than okay; I didn’t need a lot.  I still don’t.  I’m too busy collecting memories.  Some days I wish there was a fairy godmother though who could shop for me … then I could spend even more time rambling.  Alas, I’m not springing for a personal shopper.  That would have my parents spinning in their graves.

And what does this have to do with anything??!?  De nada, just musings and rambling on this absolutely beautiful Saturday.

As always, more to come.

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