"Yes!" I shouted, "What time can I pick you up?"*
As soon as my brother-in-law Scotty heard what we were doing, he wanted in too. At first I thought he was joking. Op-shopping just doesn't seem like his thing.
"Mate, I'm the king of op-shopping. I love it!"
So I count him in and warn him he will have to be ready early**. Sure enough he's at the end of the driveway at 8.30 sharp and when we show up at Jen's house we discover that she's asked Cally (another SIL) along too.
We head out to the king of op-shops, Mancare in Fyshwick. And discover that the Gods are smiling on us - childrens clothing has been marked down to only $2.50 an item. Jen, Cally and I commence the rack raiding in the kiddy section. Scotty heads for the menswear.
Making my own stuff and op-shopping is how I manage to clothe and feed my kids without landing myself in the poor house. I have a method - anything that qualifies as a really good bargain, which means designer, brand new or extra nice, gets bought no matter how big it is. Then it goes into my special wardrobe for the kids - all organised by size - and as they grow I just pull out the next stack of clothes. I've bought brand new pyjamas on sale (in four sizes at $3.00 a pair), brand new shoes (always check the tread) from Salvos and designer brands (Osh Kosh and Ralph Lauren) with the tags still attached.
After I dump my arm-load at the front counter I start looking for myself. I try the 16+ rack but quickly realise that the Salvos people responsible for sorting the clothes think 16+ is anything that looks like it might double as a protective sleeve for an airship. Attractive clothes in my actual size are hidden on the other racks. I flip quickly through, looking first for fabric feel and colour and then for size. I find a bunch of stuff and then I pause.
Here it is. My nemesis. No matter how old I get I know that every single winter shopping trip will involve a turtleneck jumper that will look good enough on the rack that I will think I might look OK in it. Inevitably I try it on and instantly reaffirm that girls with breasts who wear turtlenecks look like they're smuggling a tyre. Why can't I let it go? Because the idea of a jumper and scarf in one is just too tempting. Unfortunately this time is no different from all the others. I look like the Michelin Man.
Scott giggles when I sigh in frustration and asks me whether I've actually seen a turtle's neck? Because they don't look remotely attractive, even on the turtle. The instant I put it back on the rack the op-shop gods reward me with a perfect find. Almost brand new, made to fit me, feels gorgeous and looks wonderful. Also it comes, quite handily, in a shade I've been trying to find to go with some of my work pants. Huzzah! High fives all 'round.
Scotty has gone nuts. He has at least a dozen items including a VB rugby top which looks brand new***. Jenny and Cally have managed to find awesome things too. Jen has largely avoided the children's racks because, as she points out, she has just about everything she needs for Chloe thanks to me. What she has found is a gorgeous pair of embroidered jeans that are only $3.00 and some cute little tops. Cally's scored well on the clothes front too. Watching the purchases pile up on the counter I feel sure I've blown the budget but nope, it all comes to $60. Which is about as much as I'd have to spend for two things from Pumpkin Patch. Maybe three.
* For those without children - the chance to go out without them is a bit like letting a border collie off the leash.
** Which is about 8.30am - usually around the time Scotty crawls into bed on his visits to Canberra.
*** Honestly who would wear it but Scott?
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