(Note: I’m on the road, so the the picture above is only half secondhand. I’ll update the picture later, unless you like the current photo!)
Several years ago, when my son was born and I was unemployed, I heavily swallowed my pride and went shopping for baby clothes at the neighbourhood Goodwill store. As I walked up to the store, I took a deep breath, and put on my best nervous smile as I walked in. I confessedly admit that I was a little embarrassed being in the store and worried about being seen. After all, wasn’t this what “poor people” did? I didn’t belong in there. Being raised in a comfortable suburban existence my whole life, I had somehow elevated my perceived social status over the years.
Well, today I’m still shopping in thrift stores. Those times I went baby clothing shopping really struck a chord with me, and it made me realize a few things. Firstly, I noticed that most of the baby clothing was almost new. I then realized that, new or not, that my infant son would never notice the difference. Eventually, the same principle would apply to me. I soon found some surprisingly good items for myself at the thrift stores, and purchased a few things to try on.
Months later, one of my friends took notice that I wore one shirt very often, and I told him that it was because it looked great and was very comfortable. I then remembered that it was a secondhand shirt, and I had totally forgotten that it was used a long, long time ago – probably after the third time wearing it. Later, I would go on and brag to friends about how much and where I scored my snazzy designer shirt for.
Isn’t it funny how something can go from embarrassment to elation?
Well, in the spirit of the season of