Friday, May 4, 2018
Approximately 85% of the items in my closet are from secondhand stores. We have three of these shops in Kemptville: The Salvation Army Thrift Store, To Be Continued Consignment, and The Score. One of my favourite things to do when I have time between appointments is to browse the new weekly arrivals. You never know what you will find.
Many times you will find clothes in these shops that haven’t even been worn. The Score, in particular, carries clothing that I saw just last week on the tables at Costco in Barrhaven. This week they are hanging just as you walk in the front door, with the tags and size stickers still on them. For about half the original price.
One hot summer day last year I was flipping through the items in the “new” section of the store when I came across a brightly coloured patchwork cotton skirt with the face of a Japanese woman and a dragon in bright emerald green and silver on the front. It reminded me of a crazy patchwork skirt I once owned from Asia. I looked at the price tag. The original $129.00 had been covered over with an orange sticker reading $21.99. A deal in any country for a never-worn designer skirt by the Spanish brand Desigual.
The stores have all done their seasonal turnover now, and they are giving great deals on cool weather items that they need to clear out. I decided to have a quick look the other day, and I found quite a few things in my size. As I was cashing out, I looked up on the wall where the handbags are displayed. (By the way – if you buy a handbag in a thrift store and it is a bit grimy inside, take one of those germ-killing wet wipes and give it a good swipe. Don’t forget the inner corners and pockets. You can also leave it out on the porch overnight with the wet wipe still inside. This will disinfect your bag and leave it smelling fresh as new).
I saw a cute little leather purse. It was two-toned in shades of brown, a classic vintage style. It looked like something from the 60’s. I’m not much of a purse person - I lug most of my things around in a huge tote bag that stays in my car. But when I stepped closer and read the label, I received a bit of a shock. Prada. Price tag? $14.99. I grabbed the purse off the hook and placed it discreetly in front of the cashier.
“Did you see this?!” I asked her in a hushed voice.
“Yeah! You never know what you will find…” she smiled and calmly rang up my purchases.
I grabbed my bag and hustled out of the store.
At home, I Googled “small leather Prada bag”. I scrolled through the photos but couldn’t find an image of the one I was holding. The average price of a Prada bag appeared to be $2,000. About the price of a week in Mexico…or a small secondhand car. I was pretty sure my bag was a fake. After all – I had lived in Taiwan for three years. I own a pair of knockoff Puma sneakers that could easily pass for originals but they cost me ten bucks on the night market. I’ve seen the back alley pop up shops and the dingy warehouses full of “Coach” and “Louis Vuitton” purses. The chances of the purse I bought for fifteen dollars being a real designer bag were pretty slim.
But then…what if someone was doing their spring cleaning and accidentally threw the purse in the donation bin? I decided to put the bag in the closet instead of posting the image on social media like I normally do when I find something awesome. I was afraid that post would prompt an immediate response: “Hey! Where did you get that?! That’s my $2,000 Prada bag that I lost last year!!”
Finally, I turned to YouTube and searched “Prada bags: real vs. fake.” I watched three videos that all confirmed, my bag is not real. It’s a really nice-looking copy. I might give it to Mom for Mother’s Day – after all, I inherited my appreciation of great thrift store finds from her. You probably won’t catch me out in public with it, though. I don’t want people to think I spent $2,000 on a tiny handbag that doesn’t even hold a book and water bottle!
Posted by Diana Leeson Fisher at 12:32 PM
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
“Hooray! Hooray! It’s the first of May! Outdoor *bleeeeeeep* begins today!”
Every year, without fail, my father would holler this anthem at the top of his lungs. Where the saying came from, I have no idea. I am not proficient in searches of the Internet for things of this nature. And I’m afraid what will pop up on my screen if I put those words in the search bar. Some also refer to the 8th of May as opposed to the first. In our part of the world, the 8th might buy you a bit more warmth for your frolicking en plein air. In any case, it is a tradition in many families to holler this silly proclamation each year, in celebration of finer weather for all outdoor activities.
The first Saturday of May, on the other hand, is recognized in many countries as International Naked Gardening Day. Apparently it began in Seattle, of all places, about 13 years ago, by a group of nudists. It’s meant to be a celebration of the human body and a day to get in touch with nature. I’m imagining this is likely more popular in warmer climes, where fewer bugs exist. As soon as our snow disappears, the blackflies arrive on the scene. They persist throughout the month of May, so unless you don’t mind getting covered in extremely itchy little bites, I suggest you slip back into your pants and shirt.
When I was young my parents had a friend who liked to garden in the nude. She had a sign at the end of her driveway asking incoming visitors to honk before approaching. It was a long driveway, thankfully, giving her time to pull her clothes back on before her guests arrived. I just hope she wore a good SPF in her sunscreen because she was a redhead and I imagine she burned easily.
I don’t see the appeal to naked gardening or doing other things in the nude out of doors. I’m not much of a risk-taker, and I don’t like getting eaten by bugs. I’m pretty careful about wearing protection from the sun, and I get enough cuts and scrapes while squatting in the garden while fully dressed. I can just imagine the injuries if I was buck naked.
I must admit, however, I did try it, once. We have a completely private back yard so I felt it was safe to be impulsive and spontaneous. I took all my clothes off one summer day and lay them out on the back porch before stepping out to weed the garden in my birthday suit. The experience was not exactly freeing, however. It pretty much had the opposite effect. I was feeling quite exposed and sheepish, and looked up, searching the sky for any sign of the Google Earth satellite. I remembered how surprised I was to discover that you could see those images in great detail, right down to a coffee cup left on a patio table. I was contemplating my exposure when I heard the unmistakeable crunch of car tires on the driveway. I had about two minutes to run back to the porch and pull my clothes on before my sister-in-law poked her head around the corner of the house to greet me.
“Hi! Whatcha….hey. What’s going on?”
I was just pulling my shirt over my head. I decided to come clean. She might as well know.
“It’s World Naked Gardening Day. WNGD…”
“What? What are you talking about?”
I explained, and she laughed, and reminded me of the Google Earth Satellite. That got me wondering. If Google captured images of a private nature, would they allow them to be broadcast over their mapping network? I began to worry about all of those young lovers, gallivanting in the great outdoors, naked as the day they were born. Imagine someone is searching the area on Google Earth, looking for prime farming or hunting land, and they are confronted with the image of a naked couple in an open field. That just doesn’t seem right. It’s meant to be a private experience, after all.
My advice to anyone wanting to celebrate the beginning of May with one or more naked outdoor activities is this: remember to slather on the sunscreen before exposing your private parts to the midday sun. And if you decide to foil the Google Earth cameras by heading into a forested area for tree cover, don’t forget your bug spray.
Posted by Diana Leeson Fisher at 3:07 PM