Not long ago, my friend confided in me that she suffers from disguised secret shopper’s addiction as she calls it. She doesn’t secretly shop in traditional retail or department stores but rather Thrift stores or any store that specializes in anything used or has the word thrift plastered to it.
Hears the part I struggle with… before she heads out to a thrift store, (at least 4 times per week) she disguises herself. She wears jeans, baggy t-shirt, dons a wig and a pair of big round sunglasses before heading out the door.
I, like my friend, shop in thrift stores as well, but am far from being addicted. I don’t thrift shop on a regular basis, but will usually get my thrift mojo on about once a month. When I do get bitten by the thrifty bug, unlike my friend, I don’t thrift in secret.
So as she was sharing her secret with me, I laughed about it because I was uncomfortable and didn’t know how to respond. Really, I was thinking, How sad! And are you for real?
Since the big reveal, I have been left with a gamut of emotions. I mean for starters, this is a woman who is well rounded, has appeared to be flawless for as long as I have known her, confident, completely put together, and did I say confident, because she truly gives the word
a new meaning… Or so I thought.
I’ve always seen her in this perfect light and living in her perfect world. To keep up this perfect self persona for 10 years, and then to all of a sudden find out that she is a secret thrift store shopper and she goes in a disguise…..Shocking!!
When the time is right, I plan on sharing some of my thought with her on the matter.
For instance, she should know that she is missing out on the fun of thrifting because her energy is being put toward hiding a part of who she is and trying to be something she isn’t.
There really is honest to goodness true fun that can be had in searching through racks of clothes, toys, books while keeping an eye out for that one hidden treasure that will make the trip, while experiencing all of this in the light without the disguise.
I really just want her to know that it’s ok to just be who she is, imperfect, like the rest of us.
I guess it really is impossible to know about the inner workings of someone’s life, unless they choose to share. Fear of “being seen” with a cart full of used pickings is just plain difficult for me to wrap my head around. I guess I just don’t see any shame in shopping “used”.
My hope is that one day she can walk into one of her favorite thrift shops as her imperfect self, unashamed, care free and without the fear. And if she would be willing, I would thrift right along side of her…the real her.
