Yesterday afternoon my pal C and I had a lovely time going through the bags and bags brought by Pierrette, my personal flea market shopper. To give you an idea of how much she brings, picture those Ikea blue swag bags - she brings 5 of those plus a couple of smaller bags.
That's a lot of clothes! Naturally we don't buy anything like as much, but she brings it all just in case and so we can have as much choice as possible. Thanks to Pierrette the only stuff I buy new now is undies (lingerie...), and the odd pair of shoes.
This time I'd been in a bit of a rush tidying the house so it resembled less like a bomb had hit it. Not easy after a few days away. I'm terrible about clearing stuff away immediately and it's often a few (several) days before everything is back to normal. I'd also just come back from the weekly shop so had to jam the cold stuff into the fridge and leave the rest to its own devices.
When I came down later the ravening wolves had been rooting through it looking for stuff to snack and reverting downstairs to bomb-hit status.
Meanwhile, we were having fun in our undies trying everything on, laughing at the stuff which looked terrible and admiring the stuff which looked great. Sometimes something which looked boring on me looked great on my pal and vice versa. No need to fight, elbow, shriek (except with laughter) or barge our way to bargains. There was something for everyone.
Her daughter also popped along and picked out a few choice ado items which will do her proud in school and out and she won't look the same as everyone else.
My haul this time included a pair of thigh high leather boots (€50, new) and I can tell you that someone was happy when I tried them on...! I also found a number of denim jackets in different colours and designs, pair of very snazzy jeans, white cut-offs, boating top, long slinky dark green dress, long yellowy cotton jersey dress, pair of sandals and other tops and bits and bobs, total price €310.
My pal and I celebrated our good fortune with a chilled bottle of rosé and, on an empty stomach it went right to my head resulting in much merriment and great difficulty cooking eggs for the boys' supper. Me, I just had Pringles. Unhealthy but totally yummy! Three cheers for chillin'!
Not quite the same a a Tuppaware party then.
ReplyDeleteNot quite, no. More Anne Summers without the toys and lingerie...
ReplyDeleteSarah, you seem to have entirely too much fun. I'm shocked and disappointed by your frivolity.
ReplyDeleteNick
LOL Nick. I try my best but frivolity just keeps popping out!
ReplyDeleteThigh high boots and Pringles do NOT go together, Sarah. At the very least it should be chilled vodka and perhaps a few morsels of some slinky food.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your bargains
FF, you're so right, but it was a bit of a rush job - my pal had to get back to her brood - and gracious living in a bomb site is tricky.
ReplyDeleteThe table was clean though :)
Sounds like my idea of heaven!
ReplyDelete