The Postscript
I wear used clothes.
I remember going to clothing stores years ago and buying new clothes. But about the time I stopped wearing business suits
and flying in airplanes for work,
I started going to used clothing stores. Then I discovered online consignment stores and, since then, I've hardly bought a new item of clothing except socks and
shoes and underwear.
I like used clothes.
Of course, I like the prices. I've always been frugal and when I see how much a pair of new jeans cost or a new dress, I am shocked. But buying used clothes also eliminates buyer's regret. If the jeans I bought refuse to stay on my hips, or the color of a top is brighter than I like, or my sis
- ter tells me I look like an auto matic car wash in the new dress
I bought for Christmas (and once you see a thing like that, it's hard to unsee), I can donate the clothes to another used clothing store and let them go on their merry way to
the next customer, guilt-free.
My mother tells me she wore
almost exclusively hand-medowns as a child, which is not
surprising since she was the ninth of 11 children, and most of them
were girls. She remembers when she got what she called her 'Joyce coat,' which delighted her to no end because, instead of coming from several sisters before her, this coat had been owned by only one person -- a neighbor named Joyce -- before my mother got it. There is a picture of her standing in front of the farmhouse wear
- ing her Joyce coat, and she looks
very pleased.
I was much more spoiled and usually had new clothes as a child. I occasionally got hand-
me-downs from a neighbor
across the street who was the same age as me but much taller. Lynn was the youngest in her family and the only girl, so she had a lot of nice clothes that she quickly outgrew. I remember I got a beautiful green dress from Lynn that re
quired about an hour to iron. My mother was grateful when I also outgrew it.
These days, I occasionally wonder where my clothes came
from. It sometimes feels wicked
to imagine my clothes living on
someone else's body. I imagine there are people who wouldn't like the idea, and that's why they
buy new clothes.
But I have lived in plenty of houses where other people have lived, so the idea that my clothes
have had another life is not trou bling.
Still, it would be interesting to know the history of my clothes.
They are usually in good shape
and a lot of my used dresses still have the tags on and little bags of extra buttons, which I promptly
lose. I wonder why a particular
dress never worked out. I wonder if it was purchased for some oc
casion that never materialized. I wonder if that was disappointing.
Maybe it was bought to wear when the owner lost 20 pounds that remained stubbornly where they were. I will never know. But at some point, someone decided it would be better to get a few pen
nies on the dollar than to keep it in their closet, and that is where every dress I own has come from.
'Where have you been?' I
want to ask. The dress remains mum. And that's OK.
I imagine my dress had a very dull life, living in someone's clos - et, never being worn. It makes me want to put that dress on and make sure I have an especially good time while wearing it.
Till next time, Carrie
