those who thrift.docx

8/14/2019 Those who thrift.docx

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Chloe Eastburn

Blair Banwart

WRD 103

November 12th, 2013

Those who Thrift

Upon entering a Thrift Store, I always become immediately aware of a few things.

The first being, the smell that overwhelms your senses as soon as you walk through the

doors, and the second, the diverse people you find looking around looking around the

shop. What strikes me most about the people you see in Thrift stores across the country is

the variety in age, race, socio economic status, and gender you find within the stores.

There is no limitation to the type of person

who enters a thrift store, no targeted

audience or group of people the stores are

attempting to sell too, and no judgment

shown toward anyone who walks through

each stores doors. Coming from California,

Im familiar with outdoor sales, and flea markets,

and am completely unaccustomed to indoor

flea markets or bargains. Now I know- that in the

winter in Chicago, you just have to cram

everything into a small little space and the

feeling you get when you walk inside, the vibe in

the store, the music playing, the diverse

people you see- all come together the same. I know thrift shops have always existed

indoors, but I had never ventured in one before. Once I finally was able to adventure a


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little in Chicago, I realized how interested I was in finding new Thrift stores in the city.

More importantly, itsalways exciting and heartwarming to know that it doesnt matter

who you are, or what youve come to buy, you are welcome inside.

I started doing musical theatre around the age of nine, which meant that by the

time I started my first show, I found myself accompanied by my lovely mother exploring

the thrift stores across Los Angeles, and on the hunt for the perfect costume. Whether I

was a fairy godmother, pumpkin, Irish grandmother, a boy, or an islander, thrift stores

seemed to be our saving grace. Besides my own personal experiences shopping in Second

hand stores, or thrift stores, Ive found that as I got older- I became more aware of the

people around me in these stores. By no means am I ever the only person inside the

stores, but on occasion, Im the only person under the age of fifty to be seen surfing the

racks of clothing, shoes, jewelry, handbags, books, furniture, and so much more.

In this city, I expect to see a variation in the people that walk down the streets, but

also those who I shop in the same stores as. Citys are a mecca for diversity and culture-

which sometimes can be especially seen in tiny, hole in the wall stores. In one store I

went to, you had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to the final floor that had a one-

room thrift shop on it - owned by a very nice old Asian couple, who I recognized after

coming to this place for the third time. Suddenly smells of must, and old sweaters became

apparent- and I began to look around. Around the room I saw: worn in boots, records,

embarrassing Christmas sweaters, floral dresses, and, as I expected, an eclectic group of

people.

I asked one of the shop owners if I could take a couple of pictures of him as he

worked- he didnt seem to mind- so I began observing him. He was sorting through some


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old brass figurines in a class cabinet- wiping them

down, and reassembling them. I noticed he was

paying careful attention to this figurines- even

though they seemed miniscule in comparison to

the amount of stuff in this very big room. Clothes

and merchandise were not only hanging on racks,

but shirts, and other miscellaneous objects

were hanging from the pipes in the ceiling. All of

these things, Im assuming were for sale-

except for a couple of very obvious props that were meant to add aesthetic appeal to the

room. Dcor aside, it struck me as very unique to see this old man making sure this small

part of his store was kept nice and neat. Maybe he had a special connection to these

figures, one that I wouldnt be aware of after a short conversation, or maybe he simply

takes pride in every thing in his store- from the bigger sale pieces, to the tiniest ones in

the shop.

Moving along, I bumped into a very interesting looking record collection, one that

was not organized so much by genres of music, but rather by decades. Although, if you

asked me, I couldnt tell you the decade I decided to look through. Three or four bins

were filled to the brim with old dusty record covers, some of which I noticed as I sorted

through the piles, were missing their records. It wasnt so much about the music I

realized, but more about the purpose of owning the artwork that is album covers. Selling

from anywhere between two and ten dollars, you could blow the dust off of them after

picking them up, I suddenly decided I better quit making a mess of their record table.


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After admiring this stores music collection, I decided it was best to move on as I looked

up, only to make eye contact with a terribly creepy porcelain doll- dressed in a faded teal

gown- with one eyelid missing. It was time to look for some real people to observe.

I turned around and saw a couple of people walking around the room. One, a

much older woman- admiring the tutus in the back section of the store, and two younger

women, both going back and forth between looking through clothes, and accessories. The

older woman herself I did not take any photographs of, because while she seemed very

sweet, and very old, she was precisely the opposite of that as she barked at the woman

shop owner, concerning the prices of the tutus. Changing gears I chose instead to maybe

approach one of the other two women. I walked up to a woman who appeared to be in her

early twenties, looking through a selection of very retro sunglasses. She was wearing all

black, but not just any plain old clothes- instead she

had a printed black and white head wrap on, that

added practically six inches to her height, a fitted

leather jacket- and underneath, a long black dress. I

struck up a conversation with her, telling her about

my project, and surprisingly- she was willing to let

me take her picture. She then told me she only came

to the thrift store to buy a pair of sunglasses, but

wouldnt object to buyinganything else she found

along the way she loved. I told her I do the same- usually only having one item in mind,

but leaving with three or four instead.


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Next I spoke with a girl who seemed closer in age with me, who was shuffling

through piles of jewelry. At first- I thought maybe she worked there, but soon I realized

that she had just pulled up a stool she found under a table, and was rummaging through

bins of very decently priced accessories, maybe looking for something specific, maybe

just looking for something that appealed to her. Regardless- she had headphones in, so I

let her be. I thought it was interesting though that she was listening to music in the store,

planting herself in her own world. Maybe the music helps focus her, aiding to the

sometimes-draining process that is shopping. It didnt matter anyway because in Thrift

Stores, sales associates dont approach you asking, What

can I help you with today? Finding everything alright?

These stores usually only have one or two people working

the shop at most, and tend to sit behind a storefront, leave

you be, and are typically reading a book, or sorting

through the stores merchandise themselves.

A week or so later I found two more stores that

were more second hand shops, that didnt necessarily focus on clothes, but more on what

I like to call- chachka. One sold lots of jewelry and small crystals, colorful carpets, and a

few racks of clothes, with items selling for $1. In the first store, I saw a couple looking at

the clothes, and watched them as they were pulling a few t-shirts off the racks and

laughing at the dated designs, or humorous logos. They looked up at me, noticing I was

watching them, and smiled- asking if I saw any of the shirts they were getting a kick out

of. I told them I hadnt, and they informed me I was missing out. As I moved into the

jewelry section of the store, I noticed a older looking man, maybe late thirties- with


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tattoos up and down his arms, piercings on his lips and nose, wearing a beanie covering a

clearly messy and un-kept head of hair. He too had headphones in; again, taking him to

his own world- a place I couldnt see. Lastly on my list of stores to hit, I found a used

bookshop that also had a few odd objects here and there, like a miniature piano, a filing

cabinet filled with old postcards, and a rack of old dresses (that reeked of mold and dust).

Walking inside I saw a couple of girls that looked like they were my age, when I realized

I knew them! They were two students from DePaul, admiring this old, used bookshop as

much as I was.

After looking into four different Thrift-like stores, I began to see a common

thread between the people I happened upon. Still

varying in age, everyone seemed to come to these stores

for an experience - rather than coming with a list of

items they needed to cross off, and find. Some- did have

specific ideas in mind, but wouldnt stop looking around

the store once they found it, and instead were interested in exploring all parts of the

stores, hoping to look for something to entertain themselves, or bring back to a friend and

tell a story to. A bitter old woman, college students, young women, married couples, and

middle-aged men, are all examples of

people I either observed or talked to in Thrift

shops over the past couple of weeks. All

these people wouldnt normally convene in

the same location, but somehow in thrift


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stores- it happens. Regardless of where you come from, or what you look like, Thrift

Shops welcome in wanderers, and gladly accept their company and explorations.

those who thrift.docx

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