I am admittedly a thrifty person. Cost-conscious. Quick to reuse or repurpose. Economically careful. Penny-wise. Even frugal. While I prefer the term thrifty, on occasion, similar yet less kind adjectives such as tight or cheap may apply.
I come by this trait honestly, via both nature and nurture, I believe. Many folks considered my mom, Bonnie Hammitt, to have been the “garage sale queen.” While not emblazoned in gold letters on a sash draped across her torso, her reputation as an over-the-top garage sale enthusiast was known far and wide.
As garage sales became more common, early-morning traipsing about on Thursday, Friday, and/or Saturday mornings became Mom’s favorite hobby. She often took friends along, including her Amish neighbors. But then the question of having enough room for all the treasures they would find became an issue. So, sometimes, one car of shoppers would follow another car of shoppers.
While I sometimes accompanied her, my zest for weekly, early-morning bargain hunting did not equal hers. It took too much time and once I had children, I didn’t enjoy dragging along little helpers. Anyway, she kept my kids outfitted in style and loved every minute of it, so why should I bother?
Mom loved picking up bargains for the Berne Public Library’s Children’s Department, where she worked for twenty years. Over the years, she purchased a mountain of décor, costumes, toys, games, and various programming accessories, some of which still have a place at the library even now.
Bonnie Hammitt reading to children at the Berne Public Library, dressed in Pacific Island garb she undoubtedly found while garage-saling.
At some point, the favored hobby morphed into a near addiction. It seemed to pain her greatly to pass by an advertised garage sale. Wherever she went, her eagle eye seemed to home in on even the least noticeable garage sale signs. Her “Look, there’s a garage sale!” announcement would often be met with silence from Dad if he occupied the driver’s seat. If other passengers were present, a chorus of firm, “We are not stopping!” replies would invariably fill the air. To which Mom often responded, “Maybe we’ll stop on the way back.” And sometimes, we did.
Avid supporters of their church’s missionary endeavors, Phil and Bonnie participated in more than a dozen Work–Witness trips. Each trip found every nook and cranny of their luggage filled with garage sale items she thought would be useful to the folks living in the country they would be visiting.
These days I only occasionally stop at a garage sale. Despite my bent toward frugality, I’m still not a fan of spending all morning popping in and out of the car, maneuvering into tight parking spots, and too often having little to show for my time. If she were still living, Mom would remind me of the theory she believed and practiced, “Unless you go to all the advertised sales, you can’t expect to do well.” As in, score a carload of great deals on a regular basis.I’ve found a better way—in my mind—to satisfy my cost-conscious nature. Thrift stores. I call these delightful establishments a one-stop-shopping experience for the bargain hunter. So, so many potential must-have deals in one handy location. As each new season approaches, you can be sure I’ll make the rounds of my favorite local thrift stores. But I assure you my patronage is not limited to once a quarter. If at all possible, you’ll find me at Berne’s Et Cetera Ecke on the first Saturday of the month for their monthly “half-price thrift” sale. I schedule my visits to the Hip Hop Consignment Shop in Decatur on Wednesdays when shoppers 55 and older receive 50% off. And every day’s a good day to shop at the Bargain Hut in Bluffton with their fill-a-paper-bag for $8 pricing—a policy that encourages me to shop for anyone and everyone because it feels like I’m getting those extra things for free.
Items that top my can’t-pass-up list include grape-themed décor for my kitchen, holiday-themed décor and tableware, silk flowers for the many gravestones we decorate each May, and of course, apparel to clothe my growing-like-a-weed grandson. The same way my mom scoured garage sale racks and tables for clothes for my kids.
I will not disclose the percentage of my current wardrobe that hails from a thrift store, but I admit it would qualify as a test grade any parent would be proud to show off. I have more jeans that I really like, in a variety of lengths and styles, than I’ve ever had. My husband has grown so accustomed to finding new-to-him shirts in his closet that he’s developed a rotation system. I haven’t shopped in a regular store for several years although on rare occasions, I order something from an online retailer. But with a family wedding on the calendar, I may have to break that streak in search of a semi-formal ensemble. But first, I think I’ll make a quick visit to my three favorite stores where I may well find something that fits the bill.
I have to chuckle when I discover an item in my closet that I forget having purchased. Or, when I remark to my grandson, “That’s a nice shirt. Is it new?” and he responds, “Gram, you bought it for me.” Too many bargain purchases, too few memory cells to record each one.
Whatever your preferred method for bargain hunting, I wish you success and the very best of shopping experiences.
Beth Steury, Author 