What I’ve learned at yard sales

When I was raising my children – from the 60s to 80s – they didn’t have yard sales. I was lucky enough to have 5 older sisters, who provided me with their children’s hand-me-downs. Plus, being the youngest in a family of 10, I was accustomed to “shift and make do.” So it was easy for me to enter into the field of yard sales. I’d go so far to call myself a yard sale connoisseur. (I like to use big words when it comes to my abilities).

I’ve been doing yard sales for over 30 years now and still haven’t tired of the experience. My love of yard sales has gotten to the point where my hubby asked, “Carole, aren’t you ever going to malls again?”

“Of course,” I answer, “I still buy my underwear and shoes at the mall. You don’t understand how thrilled I am, when I know my yard sale host paid big bucks for an item that I can get, even barter, and even lower than her price tag.

Yes, I learned to barter early on. I paid attention to what was happening around me. I might hear another barter person ask the host, “Will you sell this for $3 instead of $5?” If I hear the host answer, “Heavens no, I paid $20 for that new!” That’s when I know that host probably won’t barter. If I hear the host answer, “Sure”, then I’ll try to barter. I feel they truly want to get rid of things they don’t need or want.

In my early yard sales, my children were raising their children so I’d ask for their sizes and pick up clothes for the grandchildren. Once they headed for their teens, I realized Mom Mom didn’t have the “in” taste in clothes and I quit buying for them. Now I’m “in” again. I became a great-grandmother.

When it came to buying clothes for myself, I had to check with my teenage grandchildren. They are the connoisseurs of brand names. Even after wearing my secondhand brand name outfits a few years, I was still able to sell them at consignment shops. That is, unless I kept them too long and the clerk tells me, “This is outdated!”

Big whoop! So I’m a few years behind the times. I doubt the store clerk ever read poetry by Jenny Joseph: “When I am an old woman I shall wear purple, with a red hat which, doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me...” That’s the kind of woman I am.

Not only do I buy nice outfits, I also like the fun kind. My 5 sisters and I have traditionally celebrated our birthdays together, since the 70’s. Since my birthday falls in October, I usually have everyone dress up for Halloween. All my outfits are procured at yard sales. I think the best outfit I ever had was a black and white cow outfit, with udders to boot.

Sometimes I’ll get a good laugh from my husband. I refuse to pay store bought money for something I wear to bed. During summer months, I wear large baggy t-shirts from yard sales, usually with a funny saying or cartoon on them. The 25 cents I paid for them is always worth a good laugh, from my hubby, when I appear in them.

Not only do I buy clothes at yard sales, but knickknacks as well as antiques.

One winter I decided to study up on the antique business. I picked up books from the library, and glanced through them. By summer, I made myself a vintage clothes and jewelry connoisseur.

I picked up jewelry, purses, hats or whatever I intuited “looked old.” I found a shop out of town that accepted vintage stuff on consignment. I earned $500 that summer.

I did keep some hats and purses for a while, and displayed them in our guest bedroom. The grandchildren, when young, loved to wear these hats, purses, and jewelry when they spend a weekend at our house. We, including me, proudly strutted our outfits on our walks to the minimart for ice cream cones.

I’ll have to admit, as much as the grandkids loved my hats and purses, they did not like my mannequin. I kept her in the guest room, clad in a gorgeous vintage dress, purse, shoes, and jewelry. She scared the kids at bedtime. So I usually had to sleep with them until they fell asleep.

I once came home with a stove pipe hat, like Abe Lincoln wore. My husband wouldn’t let me sell it. He displays it in the TV room.

With retirement and moving recently, and cutting down on cleaning, I got rid of my collections, but not yard sale hunting.

You know every 10 years, or sooner, a wife gets tired of seeing the same old knickknacks and floral arrangements in the house, and decides she needs a change.

I’ve now found a consignment shop that sells your knickknacks, even small pieces of furniture. If they don’t sell there, I can always set the items out when my community has an annual yard sale.

My husband just doesn’t understand wifely ideas. If he finds a nail in the wall with nothing

hanging on it, he’ll ask why. Or, after seeing another set of curtains, he’ll say, “I thought you liked those!” How do you explain, to a man, it is normal for a wife to change the décor every so often. I always tell him, “Don’t worry about the small stuff. I don’t get rid of you every ten years, do I?” He glares.

I’ve also had a few embarrassing moments at yard sales.

I picked up a set of steak knives, and proceeded to ask the hostess, “Are they sharp?” as I took a blade and ran it across my finger. The blood, that oozed out of my finger, proved it. The yard sale lady quickly ran for a band-aid. Naturally, I bought the steak knives.

One Saturday, a friend of mine went to the yard sales with me. Some people have large print signs nearby, other times the print is too small to read. Some have a car, parked out front of their house with signs on them, even balloons to catch your eye. Well, one particular garage had a bunch of balloons at the doors. As we headed towards the garage, I noted people in the back yard. As we got closer, I realized there was no yard sale stuff on tables. It was some kind of party and I wasn’t about to crash it. We quickly dashed back to the car, no one the wiser.

So what if I’m not a connoisseur of balloons yet. I’ll learn!

As we got closer, I realized there was no yard sale stuff on tables. It was some kind of party and I wasn’t about to crash it.