But one thing has been shaking up the monotony of the day recently: my mom's hate for vintage. It's definitely made things...exciting.
Take yesterday for example. This gem of a thrift store I found tucked away in a semi-abandoned plaza was having a huge fifty percent off sale, so I pulled a junior high move and shouted that I was going to the library as I grabbed the car keys and hit the ground running. While driving I kicked myself for not packing a head scarf and cat-eye sunglasses in case one of my mom's minions were out and about (and also, I've always wanted an excuse to wear a head scarf with cat eyes!)
Once there I was welcomed with full midi skirts and cozy grandpa sweaters that cost no more than $1.50, so I went a little blind with love and got two bulging bags full. Walking back to the car, doing arm curls with these beastly bags, I wondered just how I was going to sneak these past my mom. It was like I had bricks of coke I had to smuggle in rather than bags of vintage.
I started planning on how I could manage to clamber up the tree growing by my window with these bags clenched in between my teeth when I shook my head. Too elaborate Mar, calm down.
Instead I decided to do another junior high move where I creaked the front door open, and toeing off my boots, I tiptoed up the stairs trying my best to hide these child-size bags behind my back. This is where my life is at now- I used to do this when I was wasted and now I'm doing it as a mule for used clothes.
Let me tell you, it worked. At least this time.
(PS this is my favorite outfit, ever)
Sweater- UO men's (recent!)
Chambray shirt- f21