people who need people.

it’s a funny thing, thrifting. the variety of people that i see in the thrift stores, especially. i think one of the reasons i like this second job, this habit, this passion, if you will, is because it makes me feel…in touch with those salt of the earth peeps. we are all looking for different things, but we all looking for something: me, cool mid-century modern pieces. steelcase. mccoy. lane. others search for clothes at bargain prices. cheap patio furniture. shoes. i see a different kind of person in each store i thrift. mexican families with lots ‘o kids. hipsters. old women. old men. a random assortment of office workers looking to escape the monotony of a boring desk job on their lunch hour. i like them all. they make me feel more…human. like them. not like a white, tight-ass, upper middle-class, college-educated jerkoff. thrifting humanizes me. i talk to everyone. the managers have become my friends. i hug them. i bring them food sometimes. i know. it’s really my own little make-believe, but oh-so-real-world. in the south where i am from, racism runs rampant. mexican, black, muslim, underprivileged…these are big strikes against you. and your importance on this earth is greatly diminished in many of the eyes that glare upon you. even now, even still-yes. born that way? too bad. i never liked it. it never felt good to me. as a kid, i had a really, really good friend named andy (we have recently reconnected on….you guessed it! facespace!). andy was black. andy was awesome. but i caught a lot of shit for being his friend. football coaches daughter (me) hanging with a black kid? but i didn’t care. andy made me laugh. he was kind to me. his family was sweet. i think my friendship with andy made me realize early, early on that i was…er, very different than the people i grew up around. they cared about what other people thought and ultimately, i did not. i made my own decisions about the company i kept even as an 11-year-old. black, white, yellow, purple, green. i’m still this way to the astonishment of many of my friends (WHY are you friends with her/him, lisa?). the reason, i guess, is because i try to look for the good. the good stuff in people. so when i thrift, i feel a kinship of sorts with others who maybe come from a different perspective/place/country/social demographic than i do; how else would i ever get to see them, befriend them and them me? i think we hole up and get comfortable in our little paradigms/mindsets and i think this is not so good. we are all the same. looking for different things maybe, but all the same inside. you want newer Calphalon cookware and i’m looking for vintage flame orange Le Crueset…and somewhere out there exists something all of us can use.

© littlebrownbutterfly