What You Get for $11

I sold my clothes at Buffalo Exchange yesterday.

They gave me $11.03 for it all. The leather pants, the Club Monaco belt, the Calvin Klein dress, the orange Aldo pumps...and all the rest of it. Funny, isn't it?

Hilarious, actually. I didn't really care. I didn't even stay to watch the girl go through the box, which I've learned can be embarrassing (who wants to see someone hold up your favorite shirt, then toss it over their shoulder to the pile for GoodWill?)

But it wasn't really about avoiding embarrassment. I would have been happy to stand there and watch, taking whatever fashion judgement that girl with purple hair and an excess of sequins chose to throw at me.

Is this growth? Maturity, set in after 7.5 months of retail abstinence?

Maybe. Anyway, I went across the street instead to see Kelly, who was at the Grace Heart & Company, working her monthly Saturday.

Folks were setting up all down the street for the White Linen Night in the Heights, some fun local festival that involved the production of a lot of music and kettlecorn (at least at that point in the afternoon).

I went inside to see Kelly, purveyor of the little box of paper goods that had really brought me down there in the first place--the wedding party invites. And wow, they are awesome. That girl did a ridiculously good job. (And my sister, too!) The final product is just perfect.

I know, this is a lot of back story for a trip to Buffalo. But I'm not stopping. There will be a purpose.

Kelly's mom was just leaving the shop as I was arriving, and it was just...great to see her. Beautiful, healthy, and energetic, she threw me a huge smile, squealed over my engagement ring, and struck a bit of a pose when I complimented her new haircut. She looked better than I'd ever seen her.

Then Kelly showed me a little corner of the shop displaying some particularly fun antique beer paraphernalia. Everything was clearly very lovingly displayed...old Coors signs and bottle openers and beer taps that had for years been hidden away in dusty boxes, all now out in the open for people to admire and buy.

I complimented her work, telling her how cool it was to see everything displayed so well. She just smiled and quietly said, "Yeah, it would have made him really happy."

Then we just gabbed for a few minutes in the back of the shop, watching couples, old ladies, and young kids wander the shop. A few people stopped to look at some of the beer steins, and it was back to work for Kelly and out the door for me.

The street was beginning to fill, the music getting louder, and the light getting really cool as it does in Houston when there's a distant summer thunderstorm at 5pm. I didn't stay for the party, and it didn't matter. I was going home lighter, having unloaded that big box of clothes that I don't think I'll ever miss.

I got to bring home a smaller box anyway, full of the result of a lot of hard work by some very talented people in my life.

And that hour in the antique store was almost like something scripted, maybe even poetic: a backdrop to highlight the kinds of changes, both tragic and beautiful, that can happen in life. Illness, death, acceptance, healing...there's so much to endure and experience. Life really does just keep moving forward. And I had the opportunity to really appreciate it yesterday while giggling with a good buddy in the back of an antique shop in The Heights.

So guess what, Buffalo Exchange? You could have had those clothes for nothing. I got more than what I came for.

Buried Treasure

So I came across a new pair of jeans. Well, new to me. They've been hiding in the closet of the spare room ever since we moved to Spring--oh my gosh, almost 3 years ago!

There was a little more Shannon back then, so these jeans did not fit at all when I got them (I believe another gift from Aunt Maggie). But for some reason I wanted to keep them, so they were shoved into the back of the closet.

Why do we do this? Is it a hopeful thing? We dream of one day fitting into something, so we keep it? How much clothing do we keep in our closets that we don't actually wear?

Anyway, I came across them in my recent cleaning binge, and they did fit. Quite nicely. In fact, they were a bit loose, super comfy, and didn't drag on the ground around my ankle at all (perfect for a job where I find myself walking over mud and gravel half the time).

Coupled with another gift of Kelly's, the shirt I altered at the last minute with a pair of scissors.

I think I had some secret inspiration from my friend, Meg, whose blog I recently stumbled across again. This post was just so sweet! Total serendipity.

Anyway, the ruffles on the front of this tank were huge; they made me look like a busty peacock. So I just took the scissors to them and really trimmed them down before I walked out the door...and I think it was an improvement!

Enough!

Bleh.

Ya, basta.

I've had enough of willpower and lessons and The High Road. At least for today.

That little moment of seduction yesterday? When I thought about exchanging my clothes at Buffalo for some new (to me) fashion?

And then I got all mature and decided to donate it...well scrap that. All of that. I'm taking it to Buffalo and selling it. And taking that money with us on our honeymoon to Buenos Aires.

Right now I'm just a little weary, a little cranky, and in no mood to search for the meaning behind donating a pair of leather pants that I had altered and wore while running through sub-freezing sprinklers.

I don't really feel like ascertaining the meaning behind giving away 4 lovely cocktail dresses of various shades of awesomeness.

I want to stamp my foot and behave childishly. Perhaps lessons can't be learned everyday. I'm saving Aesop for tomorrow and selling my stuff for cold, hard cash.

Purge

This post is embarrassing.

And not because of the above article of clothing, with which I became reacquainted while finally really cleaning out my closet today.

Because as you can see in the photo below, taken with my sister in the tiny building otherwise known as the Gibraltar International Airport, I am not ashamed to be seen in this shirt.

No, my embarrassment comes from the fact that the clothing purge I should have performed months ago only just now happened today. Sure, I got rid of a shirt or something back in February. But not until today, August 1st, did I work up the guts to really get rid of clothes I don't need.

I used to do this about every 3 months or so. I loved the feeling of just...unloading things that I felt were bogging me down. It was liberating to donate items that I simply hadn't worn in 6 months. Slimming down the items in my closet, organizing what was left, only keeping the things that truly looked awesome and felt great to wear--it's a nice feeling. Freeing.

And I haven't been able to do it for months now. Check that--I haven't chosen to do it. I've been a littly weenie, worrying that maybe I would still have an opportunity to wear those ridiculous, albeit awesome, orange Aldo heels.

But now it's time to quit being a baby, because suddenly I find myself in the midst of plans to elope and buy a house. Brendon and I have fallen in love with a tiny, old house in Austin, and we're trying to make it ours.

So no more behaving like a total child and clinging to my old duds like I might actually need three pairs of cobalt blue shoes. Jeez, I felt enough like a kid asking the realtor what "escrow" was. If we're going to be making these big moves, then I need to take control of things inside our house now. And that began today with our closet.

First, a few items I just couldn't part with:

1. The shirt my sister made for me. I must keep it for if/when I find myself living outside of Texas again. It gives me strength.

2. The belt that commemorates my 21st birthday, celebrated in Chile and probably still my favorite birthday of all time...when I first really felt happy about living out of the country, when I was just ridiculously pampered by a group of really cool folks from around the world who became dear friends. Anyway, among other awesome things that day, they bought me this belt.

3. The "Love Sex Fun" shirt, bought in Barcelona alongside my sister, whose corresponding piece of crazy clothing read, "Shake It, Please." I just don't think I'm ever going to part with that.

Which brings me to the state of our closet before the great purging began (see below).

I must admit that, for a moment there, standing ankle-deep in discarded clothes and fabulous (yet frivolous) shoes, I saw a clear and shining loophole through The Rules:

Buffalo Exchange.

Holy cow, I could exchange my clothes for store credit there and...shop! Eee!

But then the mature, demure, I'm-going-to-get-hitched-soon-and-buy-a-freaking-house Shannon stepped back in and remembered that this was about purging, not getting new stuff.

Because I like my closet a lot better when it looks like this:

All it went, into a box, ready to be given away (not manipulated into new stuff, dang it). Yes, I even finally parted with my crazy bunch of blue shoes. And the awesome orange ones.

And really, it just feels better. I can see all the clothes I own now, and it feels freeing like it always did before. Maybe it's because I'm well into the second half of this thing now. Maybe it's because the next purchase in my life is the priciest one I'll ever make.

Whatever the root of it, it feels good to have been able to do it!

My Favorite Accessory

Good thing The Rules don't rule out the acceptance of gifts.

Do we call an engagement ring a gift? Hm. It comes in a box. Okay, sure, it's a gift.

Anyway, 7 months now since I've bought accessories for myself, and suddenly I find myself wearing the coolest piece of jewelry I've ever owned. And that's really saying something; one time I had a ring made out of coconut shell--that was pretty cool--but it broke, so that's out of the running here.

And that candy necklace I had back in 2nd grade should rank pretty high, but I think we all know what chubby 8-year-old Shannon did with that.

So once again, despite my silly promise, I'm wearing something new. And a big silly grin to go with it.

Of course, isn't the logical next thing a new dress? Uh oh...

Many Happy Returns

When has returning stuff ever been fun?

When it's been 6 months on the barren landscape of no purchasing. That's when.

I had to take back the kind gift from Mikers and Janie. What was beautiful on the hangers was not so on Shannon; try as I might to contort myself in front of the mirror, neither top really fit me.

So back I went to Anthropologie, where they no longer had the same clothes for an exchange of size. Suddenly I was standing in my favorite store with lots (thanks again, brother&girlfriend!) of store credit.

Let me just tell you, that dressing room was packed. I think I tried on everything in the store.

I might have taken some of the housewares in there with me, just to hold a teapot while I wore that cute 60s-style dress.

As you can see, my sister helped me. It came down to choices between favorites, and I found myself looking at price tags again. It's been half a year since I've done that! (Remember, window shoppers have no budget.)

I was also tempted to return to some of my old ways. Basically, a great pair of pants with anchors on the buttons tried to come home with me simply because they were so on sale. I could have brought home my favorite shirt and those pants!

But they didn't really fit quite right. They weren't perfect, they were just exciting because they were on sale (and, of course, the anchor buttons.)

So I left them there. And now I've been wearing these 2 tops like I don't even own anything else. I took them to 6th Street last weekend. Not too sure if I can even part with them for dry cleaning. Probably how moms feel that first day of kindergarten. I'll look for a support group.

Shiny Happy People-er, Person!

You know that feeling that R.E.M. must have been trying to convey through "Shiny Happy People?"

You know, happy. Super happy.

(Not shiny. I don't think shiny is actually a feeling. Though come to think of it, there were many days back at around age 12 or 13 that a less nicely-complected Shannon felt "shiny." Whatever, I think the song is about "happy," not "shiny.")

And who knows, maybe R.E.M. wanted to convey something else. Maybe the song's about chickens. Or drugs. I often miss those undertones in songs. And I don't feel bad about it, because I think most of us do. My friend in high school thought that Jimmy Buffet had a song called, "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Scream."

I think we all know that the song was not about drinking and screaming.

But let's not analyze that fun bar song right now. I want to express the thrill of giving. But from the other end. The receiving end. And I'm so glad that it is better to give than to receive, because means that my brother, his girlfriend, my sister, and my dear friend must all be REALLY happy. Happy in a Shiny Happy People sort of way.

Let me clarify: these folks have all been really good to me and given me clothes. It's been surprising and delightful and incredibly kind, and I can't express how fun it's been to have something new to wear!

You might laugh at how excited I am about this. Well, fine. I'll give you something else to laugh at: my excitement over new clothes reminds me of part of Harry Potter (which I finally decided to begin reading a couple of months ago).

I know, it's corny and meant for kids, but I love it. Anyway, Rowling wrote in a few elf characters that are essentially slaves to particular families all their lives...unless their master inadvertently gives them an article of clothing. See the joy on that little CGI guy's face? Yeah, that's what I'm feeling.

That first gift of clothes was on Girls' Game Night. Kelly surprised me with a couple of bags of clothes that she was liberating from her closet. I had really only expected to drink beer and totally dominate at board games that night. So imagine my delight to end up going home with not only the Slumber Party Giggles over our clues during Catchphrase, but also a new dress and skirt!

Then my sister picked me up for lunch this week with a bundle of dresses and swimsuits in tow. She insisted she just didn't wear them any more. Suddenly I'm headed into the 4th of July weekend with new swimsuits and dresses! Can I really tell you how happy I am about that? How about this--Harry Potter elf happy.

And then there was the box of Anthropologie clothes I found on the doorstep Wednesday morning. Not only did Michael and Janie send Brendon and me our absolute favorites--Anthropologie clothes for me and an awesome Fossil watch for Brendon--but they threw in a card with it all that made the presents better than just really cool, new accessories.

Basically the card said that it was a thank-you/congratulations present. Thanks for letting them crash with us when visiting from Dallas...which is overly generous considering we don't have cable (so our house is boring) and critters roam freely and noisily through our walls (so our house is creepy). And then congrats to Brendon for recent achievements.

Please understand that I don't want this blog to be a gooey puddle of emotions and life lessons. I may not have TV, but I catch snippets of what's on, and the extent to which people publicize their supposed deepest feelings irritates me. Really? You're going to say that in front of millions of people? I'd much prefer to watch a fake elf cry over a sock.

And that's just the "reality" shows; the level of preachiness flowing from "news" shows just gags me. I get enough lectures about what I ought to be thinking and feeling just through the bumper stickers I see around here. Turn off "The Factor," give me quidditch!

So I'm trying to keep it light. This is just a silly experiment after all. But I was...touched that my brother would make such a gesture for Brendon.

There. That wasn't too emotional, was it?

And I was also touched that he and Janie would think of me, so much so that they'd send me stuff from the place that has come to embody my every fantasy!

Likewise with Sarah and Kelly. So not only am I surrounded by new stuff to try on and prance around in, but I feel pretty damn loved at the same time.

Oops, Cheese Alert--don't get too weepy or preachy, Shannon. Save that for the CGI animation and the "real" housewives.

So fine, I'll keep it simple: I'm very happy!