Yesterday I drove across the Whitestone Bridge today to go to my favorite thrift shop In. The. World. It’s in Westchester, my old hometown.
Here are some of the things that I considered buying, but didn’t: 1950s novels with their original dust jackets:
I already have too many books. But oh, how I love love love those 1950s Authors Photos:
I don’t know if I did the right thing, leaving those books to fend for themselves…if I don’t rescue those books, who will?? And, will the right people (not me) rescue these jackets?:
The swirly-black print one was a beautifully made heavy silk with front zipper ($6.99) and the one on the right was a brand new patchwork of buff-colored suede stitched loosely together with some kind of matching crochet thread with covered buttons up the front ($29.99) that looked like something that Sheryl Crow would wear on a first date. I couldn’t imagine where you’d wear the balck swirly-print silk jacket, but it’s sooooo me.
Unlike this Nolan Miller number with the spangles on the sleeve which I got a strange, soooo not me crush on:
This photo gives you no idea how much those sleeves glittered, even in the low light of the going-downhill Secret Thrift Shop that I love. Some days, I really miss the ’80s.
THIS is the kind of thing you only find in a really fine thrift shop:
A Betsy Johnson tuxedo-cut denim jacket for $6.99. If I wasn’t sure that wearing such a jacket made someone my age look totally idiotic, I would have bought this immediately.
I’d already been browsing the messy aisles of this thrift shop for half an hour and I hadn’t found anything to rescue, and I was beginning to fear that I’d have to go home empty handed.
Never fear, however: FATE always leads me to the right stuff in the nick of time:
This, my dear readers, is a Jackie Gleason LP to add to my excellent collection of Jackie Gleason LPs from the late ’50s – early ’60s.
This one is called: The Torch With the Blue Flame.
A delicate spindrift of marimba tones, the glow of a solo trombone and whispering strings, blending in a mist of sound…soft, dream-provoking Gleason sounds that sing with a flickering, haunting light…The Torch With The Blue Flame.
Sooo 1959, so Grown up, sooooo….corny.
Oh man, some days I really miss what I never had.