Second Hand, Second Thoughts

People love to talk about simplifying their lives. All those adorable tiny houses and the dream of whimsical, simple living! Everyone wants to be Henry David Thoreau or a Shaker or something. Well, without the whole celibacy and religious fervor thing. And with central heating and A/C, maybe. And my headphones. So more like Thoreau, maybe, because I definitely couldn't do that whole single-sex dormitory arrangement. Also, I like to spend Sunday mornings doing brunch with friends, so that whole church thingy? No, that won't work for me. Also--if someone else would do the laundry that'd be great. But the baskets? So gorgeous and simple!! I'd love to learn how to make stuff like that someday. Not now, of course. And I'll definitely need a yard for a dog. Gated community maybe so I can lock up my simple life and travel. Learn about how simply the people live in Vietnam and Japan. We can learn so much from other countries. How they make do without washing machines ...

Sarah Cannibal hunting jacket label for Hippik Because I was raised by wolves. Not really. But sorta. Ok--maybe cats. I was raised by cats. I was a difficult, fat, scabby, feral child. The youngest kid of those old-school big Catholic families--the one who crawls around under the piano, eating everyone's homework, teething on old cigarette lighters and rubber grapes. I was an early talker--mostly obscene--because by the time the fifth, sixth or tenth kid comes along, everyone is tired of watching their mouths. Mostly I was in the barn, searching for the new litters of kittens. We had a rotating herd of barn cats. And there were always new kittens. But cats really aren't good as surrogate parents. If you have retractable claws, they might teach you how to kill mice, but other than that, they don't have a lot of useful life skills to pass on to young girls. My mother did not teach me to sew. In fact, she thought I was a bit tetched in the head for wanting to even b...

It's kind of funny to get messages from eBay buyers about how they feel "deceived" because the item I sold them said it was in "excellent condition," or "3/4 sleeves" and they thought it was "poo-poo condition," with "long sleeves," and now the entire experience has become a "complete nightmare" and their faith in humanity is pretty much lost. Kinda funny, but also not. Let's think about this, now: I'm this one, weird-looking, slightly ditzy person in Naples, Florida, selling used clothes on eBay. Oh, yeah--I'm here, rubbing my hands together like some evil villainess, plotting to "deceive" you into paying 15 bucks for a pair of vintage Lilly Pulitzer capris pants. So I could enjoy hearing how I've ruined your life with an ancient rust stain that I missed? Because I secretly need a pen pal so we can send skirts back and forth and debate if the elastic is brittle? If I was truly clever enough at...

     "No one needs $800 shoes." This is an admonishment from those brainy friends every time I say how I picked up a pair of Guiseppe Zanotti shoes or Manolo Blahnik boots at the Goodwill and cackle about how I will sell them on eBay. This is wisdom, I suppose, in an era that touts egalitarian economics as a virtue and from academics, artists and philosophical ascetics who really do believe it's what's inside that counts. (As long as what's inside is what they deem acceptable...but more on that later.) Apostolic WalkFit      Fine. Technically, no one needs even $50.00--or $25.00--shoes--those Israelites certainly got around (though it took the power of the Almighty to keep their sandals from wearing out). I suppose history showed that the guys at Valley Forge came out okay with rags wrapped around their feet. So no one needs $800 shoes, just as no one needs a custom Bentley with a Vinotemp wine cabinet in the trunk or a $7,000 Hermes saddle...