The Bag of Undies

Once upon a time I adored second hand clothing. I could spend hours trawling through racks and racks of unwanted clothing trying to find my next wardrobe gem. Then something happened – all of a sudden I despised it. I wanted to burn every second hand item I owned and never step foot in a second hand clothing store again.

I can pin point the exact moment I went from being a second hand queen to only buying brand new items. I worked in a second hand clothing store at University. Part of the job was sorting through peoples clothing and pricing their items for us to sell. I opened a bag of clothes to access what they were worth and whether we would sell them to discover that somebody had given us a bag of men’s underpants which were all old and dirty. When I say dirty – I mean it had to be a practical joke? A bitter shop assistant who was sacked reaping her revenge? I think I even accidentally touched one of the underpants in the bag. The only thing I can do to reassure myself about this incident is tell myself that it was seven years ago now and if I was going to have caught any illnesses or diseases from this man’s undies it would have happened by now.

So that was the moment – the bag of dirty undies. It made me think that I had no idea who wore these clothes before I had put them onto my back and what their previous life had entailed. Second hand clothes were something I just could not be bothered with anymore.

I have asked the question for many years following the undies incident - do I still really hate all things second hand? I have tested the water every now and then and there has been no change to the way I feel towards pre-loved clothes.

After surfing around on the internet being bored at work I came across a tempting website. It looked fun and it looked cool, but it was a jumble sale. How could it be? Was it time to test the water again?

So this weekend I had a date with the second hand clothing devil itself in North London. I was slightly hesitant but curious as I was approaching the jumble sale. It had been described as the hippest jumble sale in town and the people definitely looked hip. They were all pouting and posing next to racks of clothes, boxes of records, books, and toys. I mean I am a stylish girl right? Surely I should be able to whip up a stylish outfit from second hand tatters like the kids surrounding me?

As I stood there scouring through the racks of clothes and surveying the tables of junk I became aware that I had no idea how to act – I was definitely out of the swing of things as clutched onto unwanted goods and grinned nervously at the trendy beings who occupied the tables of stuff. I was trying to say – yes this is natural and I belong here, can’t you see I do it all of the time? I definitely wasn’t convincing myself or becoming tempted by the mounds of junk piled up to my ears.

I emerged from the jumble sale 10 minutes later empty handed and in need to some hand sanitizer. To ease the pain I wondered along to Angel for a smoothie and some fries. I guess second hand goods and Emma are still chalk and cheese. Not made for each other. Although there is one more date in the ‘second hand clothing’ calendar – a trip to Bang Bang Boutique to see if we are truly destined to remain fashion enemies. If anywhere is bound to turn me – I hear it is Bang Bang…

I took this picture before the jumble sale… This was my outfit of choice to help me blend in with the cool cats of North London. Convincing? They could smell the fear I tell you…