Happy Birthday, Mom!

My mom is yet another loved one with an eagle eye for awesome old stuff. As a chairperson of the hotly anticipated annual Thursday Club Rummage Sale, she's been collecting, selling and cherry-picking the china, crystal, silver, cashmere and jewelry of San Diego's rich and charitable for more than a decade.

I'm so proud.

But it presents something of a conundrum on her birthday: what do you buy used for the woman who has access to used everything?

I circumvented the issue by opting for flowers instead. If you haven't already heard of them, California Organic Flowers is an excellent source of sustainable local flora, especially if you're, um, in California...

I couldn't decide between all the seasonal delights, so I decided not to.
Decide, that is.

I sent happy happy dahlias,



elegant lisianthus,



and wacky wild herbs and spices:



Mom reports that all the bouquets are fresh and gorgeous, but she likes the herbs and spices best. Apparently it's super fragrant, and she loves the brainy looking coxcombs.

Mock...Mock...Mock LOBSTER!

For those of you who wondered what a lobster mold was and what on earth I planned to do with it,

A)


[fetching, shiny, gently used, 50¢]

and B)!


[local, organic, grass-fed, crustacean-shaped]

Have you ever had meatloaf shaped like a lobster covered in bacon? If the answer is no, I highly recommend thrift shops on the Eastern Seaboard and cookbooks by Amanda Hesser. I had never even seen a lobster mold before I visited Maryland, but the minute I spotted it, I knew it was my future.

Planned Obsolescence is a B@$+@%d.

About a week before I left on my Great American Adventure, I started my car and noticed that the brake light was blinking. (In fact, HCB and I noticed this when heading out for a dinner party, leaving us with 12 minutes to MacGyver two humans and a blackberry pie onto a motorcycle.) I finally got it to the dealership last week. I'll spare you the expletives, but basically:

• my power steering AND my break booster/cylinder/thingy both need to be replaced
• this is an exorbitantly expensive repair
• this is not my fault, but rather, a total design flaw
• my warranty ran out in May

So just as I feared, I must now commit $800 to new auto parts. I considered waiting, but I was worried that if I did, they'd just find more stuff to charge me for in January.

SHIT.

That one just slipped out.

Surround Sound

I cannot believe I did this, but I lost the iPod Nano Dante so generously donated to my cause. It must have slipped under my sleeping bunk on the train to DC. When I discovered the loss, my first thought was APPLE STORE. WHERE IS THE NEAREST APPLE STORE? Maybe they'll have refurbished models? That counts as used, doesn't it? And if not, maybe my reading public would forgive me for buying a new NECESSITY like an iPod? Because what city dweller can POSSIBLY LIVE WITHOUT THEIR HAND-HELD MUSIC DEVICE??

But I checked myself because damn it, it's September. No faltering now. And then I boldly went where few Generation Xers have gone before: for a music-free, podcast-free run.

Listen, I don't know if you are aware of this, but there are singing birds out there. And rustling trees. And buzzing insects. And barking dogs. As if for the first time, I heard my heart beating in my ear and the squeak-squish of my shoes hitting the pavement. I was totally focused on my form and my breathing and the world around me. I felt...connected. And it was good.

Now that I'm home, I've been taking the MUNI sans iPod as well. Oh The Humanity! The passing dialogue I've recorded for future novels more than makes up for my inability to tune out weirdos. Yesterday I was pinned in my seat by a herd of jolly septuagenarian Spaniards lisping wildly and hurtling "Claro que si"s at each other. I have no idea where they were going, but I wanted to come along. It's surprising what dislodging the ear buds can do for your people skills.

Rich Ladies' Detritus: A Love Story

After several days in Philly and several more spent loafing on the Chesapeake Bay, I choo-chooed to New York to do some work with my friends at WO. HCB met me there for a weekend of romance.

While most people come to New York and think BARNEYSBERGDORFSSOHONOLITAFIFTHAVESWEETBABYJESUS, HCB was of course thinking, HOLYSHIT a whole city's worth of OTHERPEOPLE'SAWESOMEOLDSTUFF. Being that there don't seem to be any European-style outdoor flea markets in New York, I did my best to locate some fecund thrift stores for him.

Boy did I find one. The Memorial Sloan-Kettering Thrift Shop on the Upper East Side is the equivalent of the world's best thrift store crossed with a mind-boggling designer consignment venue. The main floor features tons of non-designer duds (incl. two whole racks of cashmere), antique furniture, books, jewelry, china, and tchotchkes, whilst in the Designer Room, beady-eyed old ladies dispense silent condemnation and strident style tips while guarding racks full of Chanel and Oscar and Ralph. I came home with two cashmere sweaters and this Temperley London sweater dress, with which the 88-year-old attendant more or less insisted I wear black leggings and stilettos. (She's not wrong.)



Remember how last month I boldly declared that I was over shopping? Erm, amendment: I am totally OVER shopping standard retail. But one cannot put asunder my love of rich ladies' fashion detritus. I'm just proud of myself (or kicking myself) for not buying that Chanel tweed trench coat...

There was only one not-so-small problem: no men's department. HCB came home empty-handed, unless you count the aforementioned condemnation.

Quicken Earth August: Like Shooting Fish in a Barrel

As you know, I spent the latter half of August en route.

Not that I want to spend this time endorsing shopping, but People, I tell you: there are some incredible gently used treasures waiting for you in thrift stores all across this fine nation. I'm not talking about those hipster hotspots with all the Dwell back issues and the hulking price tags. These vendors, they don't know what they have! They don't know how to price it! They are waiting for you to give it a better home! If you intentionally mismatch your socks and know who Saarinen is, I suggest you hit the road - with a U Haul. And er, then buy some carbon credits?

As for all you guys mocking me behind my screen for once again blogging about shopping on a blog that's about NOT shopping? Suck it. This post is a public service message.


OOPS!
No transgressions to report.


NECESSITIES

As per usual.


CREATIVE CONSUMPTION (i.e. USED ARTICLES)
Wow do I love thrifting in second-tier cities and fishing villages. In Glenside, PA, I found a classic lobster mold, a kitschy flowered tablecloth, and an ancient copy of The House of Seven Gables. In the crab capitol of Rock Hall, MD, I found California pottery, Bakelite bangles, '60's aprons, and all manner of fantastic vintage jewelry. And all of it, ALL OF IT, at a quarter of the price it would be here.


[Check out that sexy tablecloth!]


[Julia, Lane and Amy, my lovely PA guides]


UP FOR DISCUSSION
I had to buy a map to get around New York. It was either that or get lost forever in the West Village. (Where I ask you, WHERE does 4th Avenue come from??) So I got one of those laminated dealies to keep me from ever having to buy another one.


ABSTENTIONS
I really REALLY wanted one of these crab hats to commemorate my time in Rock Hall, so I tried really REALLY HARD to win one at the Anchor Toss event I attended.



Sadly, I did not prevail. I was thusly forced to pine for them at the local waterfront restaurant/souvenir shop.