My neighbor at the beach is a hoarder, but people who live in glass houses . . .
We had a talk one day about it on our shared driveway. She was an only child, and her single mom would move around a lot, throwing away her daughter’s toys every time.
She lost all her Barbie dolls. This is her reason for saving everything.
I have a similar story. I grew up poor in a small house with six other people. I guarded my belongings fiercely because I didn’t have much to guard. When I outgrew my cherished apple dress, I was beyond sad. I worried I’d never have another one like it, and I never did.
When out thrifting, I often buy things, not sure when or how I will use them.
“Where are you going to put that?’ one friend says. I remind myself not to go thrifting with her again. She’s no fun if I have to know in that exact moment, where I will put that.
I bought a metal replica of the Eiffel Tower years ago, spray-painted it purple and put it in my garden. It seemed silly until my chorus started singing French songs this semester, and someone asked if anyone had an Eiffel tower for the alto photo.
Voila! Yes, I do.
I sell tea cups out of my dining room. A woman came to buy 30 demitasse cups and saucers to make tiny pin cushions for her sewing circle.
“What do you sew?” I asked.
“Dresses for girls in third world countries.” she said.
I thought of all those tubs of fabric down at my beach-house garage.
“Would you like some fabric?” I asked.
Two weeks later I spent a cold weekend sorting fabric in my garage, looking for pieces long enough to make a dress, fabric that was cotton in pretty patterns.
My car was filled to the brim when I returned home on Sunday. I texted the woman (under Fabric Nancy in my phone). She came the next day, and now 40 seamstresses can make 100 dresses or so for Dress A Girl, a nonprofit based out of Iowa, with 46 partners overseas.
I didn’t know why I was buying all that fabric (for my biz which went under during the pandemic?), but it turned out I was buying it for girls in Africa, the Philippines, and beyond.
It was serendipity that my fabric found a home from a woman buying tiny cups and saucers to make into pin cushions.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 