Whenever I come to Portland, I make sure that my stay includes a Monday. This is because when my mom turned 55 three years ago, the only good thing (by her own admission) about becoming a senior citizen, was the 40% discount it entitled her to at Value Village on Mondays.
One summer, years ago, we were at another much beloved thrifting warehouse (Bargain Station, torn down four years ago to make room for an super Wal-Mart) on a Wednesday, which happened to be their senior day. My mom was in her forties at the time, nowhere near the required age for the discount. We were buying quite a bit that day, and so she asked an older woman to pretend that she was our grandma and go through the checkout with us, so that we could buy our goods at the discounted price. This woman, who looked like she was native american (I can’t believe we fooled anyone, my sister and I both have blonde hair and blue eyes) was a born thespian and took on her new role with her all. She joked with us and played with our braids and at one point reprimanded my sister for picking a china cup and saucer that was on display. Once through the check stand and out at the car, my mom thanked her repeatedly and tried to get her to accept $5 (only a portion of what we saved) for her time. She refused the money, thanked us for the fun and went on her way. We always hoped to see her again at Bargain Station, but we never did.
So, while this entire trip has been slightly thrift store focused, today was the big enchilada, the main event of the thrifting rodeo. We went in, primed for bargains and we found many. There is something about finding treasure (in this case linen DKNY pants) in rows of acrylic and tacky that is deeply satisfying. It may be warped, but hey, it’s fun.