Thrifting Body Image

I've always loved thrift shopping, but could never put my finger on why. Maybe it's just college-budget friendly. Maybe I enjoy the surprises. Or maybe I'm just cheap?

Until I went thrifting with a friend last week, and she mentioned how she hates shopping for clothes - except in thrift stores. "There's no anxiety here," she said. "Instead of having to choose a size or try to fit into the 'right number,' there's only one size of one shirt."

If the shoe suits...

If the shirt fits, it's meant to be. If not, darn! Not my lucky day. That's it - no "sucking it in" or crying in the dressing room required.

As I removed yet another pair of jeans that didn't fit (unless baggy is the new butt), another question stared at me from the dressing room mirror: What if we lived like we were thrift shopping? What if we didn't try to force ourselves to fit the mold but found what fits us?

Flower energy hand-me-downs!

Whether because of their age or love of play-do, I've found that kids have an easier time rejecting the mold than teens and above. My scrapbook overflows with pictures of me rocking hand-me-down flowered tights, tank tops and my favorite faded denim skort with colorful beads hanging from the hem. (Don't ask how many times my mom sewed those beads back into place).

Then middle school hits. High school, work uniforms, college, business dress and clothes designed to hide flaws with their shape as much as their price tags.

But that's not the life I want.

I want a life of scrounging through boxes of clothes while the thrift store stereo blasts songs about marijuana and broken hearts - at least until I find a bright red miniskirt just my size.

Skirt selifes....

I want a life ofsigning up for Weight Lifting next semester. The class came free with aconfused, slightly concerned look from my adviser.

I want a life ofnot knowing exactly where my blog posts aregoing and just letting myfingers click

a course.

I want a life of being the only writing major (thank you women's studies minor!) to present a paper at my school's Colt Conference for Political Science and History. I walked out smiling - even before I learned I won an award.

There's a smile hiding in the back of that!

I want a life that hugs my hips and is accessorized with a grin.

Most importantly? I don't want to live afraid to return a shirt to the rack if it doesn't "feel like me."

As a preteen, wearing secondhand clothing was nearly as uncool as lacking your own flip-phone. In college, there's less judgement - mainly because students are too sleep deprived to care about their (boho chic or fashionably deprived?) classmates.

Sportin' a hand-me-down shirt, thrifted jacket and pants on our hike!

After spending four hours eating, laughing, searching (and finding) parking and thrifting with a friend, though, I think second-hand clothes can form more than our wardrobe. They can patch together a self-loving, adventure-searching, stubbornly individualized identity.

All for five bucks a piece or less.

*Also found at RunningwithSpoon's link party!*

Do you ever thrift-store? How do you cope with or be triumphant when clothes buying? Comment under!

Mustaqim Jaed

Saya Seorang Yang Hoby Menulis Dan Menggambar.

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