Archive | 9:42 PM

Day 187: a second hand story

6 Jul

I went to the second-hand store today.

The name always escapes me.  I usually refer to it as “The Chicken Place” and then Justin usually looks at me confused and clarifies, “What chicken place?”

Then I say something like “you know the second-hand store” and he asks back, “St. Vincent de Paul?” and then I get frustrated and say, “No, you know, the one with the chicken on it.”

Believe it or not we are always talking about the same place: Chicken Alley Thrift Shop

I stopped in today and I don’t really know why, maybe to experience what is most definitely the best place to find a “second-hand find” on the island.  You never know what you might spot.  Not that I’m buying anything.  (And I didn’t buy anything, promise.)

But, it’s always a field trip of sorts looking through someone’s old stuff which sometimes isn’t always old.  And then of course sometimes it’s just people’s real junk.  But at “The Chicken Place” it’s always an adventure.

Today I watched three women swoon over wedding gowns hanging on a rack.  I thought they were very old looking gowns and not all that young looking women …it made me wonder what all the hype was about.

I had just heard some old school Soul Asylum music in my car and the lyrics repeated through my head — Nothing attracts a crowd like a crowd  —  as the women hovered.  Just what was this all about?  Was this some vintage couture find?  That is totally a possibility at “The Chicken Place” so I had to walk over and inspect.

One gown was really old and delicately laced, another gown was definitely from the 70’s (at least it looks like something from my mother’s old photo albums with long bell-shaped sleeves) while another gown was relatively new sporting its Filene’s Basement price tag.

I still don’t know what the hubbub was all about. But it got me thinking…
Who wore these gowns?  What were these women like?  Why did one still have tags?  Was an island wedding canceled and the gown never worn?

And that made me think of golf clubs.
Yes, that’s right, golf clubs.  I donated my golf clubs to Goodwill last fall.  They were old.  I had them since high school, and decided they were taking up too much room in my nomadic trek from the island to Florida and back again.  Plus, Justin bequeathed an extra set of his clubs to me, which are newer and longer and a better fit.  So I did what any conscientious American girl would do — DONATE!

When I shared this with my dad he almost choked.
Turns out those golf clubs were his before they were mine.  They were in fact old, but he informed me that they were by all accounts vintage.

Oops.
I had no idea.  I donated them in a mad rush to get rid of “stuff” — not realizing I was handing over one of my familial hand-me-downs.

I hope the young soul who picks up my donated bag of golf clubs knows how much effort was put into each shank, birdie, pull, and push ~ both from my dad and me.  The new owner of these clubs may not know their second-hand score is really a third-hand find.

Just as that white sequined dress with the price tag hangs in Chicken Alley awaiting the day it never got to see, its very own wedding day, may the new owner of my golf clubs do something I was never able to…

Score a hole-in-one.
Which may be just as amazing as a couture find at The Chicken Place.

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