thrift therapy

Do you ever go to the thrifts because you feel down? I don't, for the same reason I don't go grocery shopping when hungry: I might end up with impulse buys that I regret when my mood recovers....

Having said that, most of this little batch I'm sharing here today are a result of me taking a sharp right turn on my way home from a disappointingly difficult day. I can't remember exactly what was the matter - but knowing myself it was probably a combination of tough grammar, impatient perfectionism, grey brooding skies and a sugar-down from too much espresso.

Before you start thinking that I'm going to show you some regretful items, I'm not! I still like all of them today. Plus they did the trick. I felt better afterwards, my indulgently just-for-fun finds burning my side through the totebag with a slightly guilty glow. If I have a vice, it is definitely thrifting. I do get a kick out of it, spending tiny money on nice, interesting or quirky things with a bit of history and dust attached to them.

So what was in the tote?



The find that shone the most sunny rays into my moody little heart must have been this chain of small pennants. They are souvenirs from Finnish towns and holiday spots, dating from the 70s and early 80s.

I've been wanting some kind of colourful garland to decorate my space with for a long time, and I think I have now found the perfect thing. Here it is hanging gloriously above my crafting table:

Then I found a new chum in the shape of this plastic giraffe. He is not terribly old, his belly informs of 1998, but I like his bashed-up looks. He's got character; he's missing an ossicorne a.k.a horn, and he's got a face of a cheeky punk with that tongue sticking out. Added to my growing plastic zoo.

On the useful side of things, I managed to get my mitts on a length of elastic with buttonholes, in a super grey colour. I think it's great, I usually see it in white which is very underwear-like.

 

The most guilty of the lot was this 1950's picture book about all things wonderful in the world. I love that it's last chapter is about modern wonders that technology achieved and the book finishes on the most complicated of these wonders - a vintage TV set (the one that looks like a washing machine encased in wood). Good old vintage days...

The book is in a fall-apart condition, but has beautiful illustrations with many colour plates throughout. The only way I could have passed this one up that particular day if I didn't spot it at all. As soon as I had a rifle through its pages, I knew it had to come with me.

I (don't) blame my mother for my love of beautiful books - she is the most tomboyish, unconventional, non-stereotypical librarian I've ever known and her affinity for books has always been contagious. She has a true passion for the written word, for volumes of knowledge and imagination waiting to be released. She never misses a chance to bury her nose into the pages of new books to enjoy the scent of printers' ink. I think if she'd lay hands on this one, she probably wouldn't bother smelling it but she'd just spend a day repairing it with tape the way she does in the library.