Drop me off on Harlem

Today I hit the most amazing garage sale where I scored the mother lode of clothes. It was just by accident, too. My mother and I had left a sale on Getzville where, incidentally, I bought a beautiful group of colored wineglasses. We were circling around back to Main and I suggested we go up Harlem, in case there was anything there.

There was!

A big Yard Sale sign. Followed by a big Yard Sale!

The people who ran the sale were kind of hippyish and they had what I guess you would call World Music playing in the background. Jamaican wind chimes were chiming. There were lots of hippyish things like incense burners and candles and little doodads that spread the scent of essential oils.

Then there was a clothesline on which were hanging all kinds of wonderful exotic clothes!

All for $1 each!

It was almost as good as finding a collection of rare Leonard Pennario vinyl. It was like going to heaven. At one point I honestly thought I was dreaming. But I was not! I blog, therefore I am. I scored three or four or five formal gowns, including one that is glittery red and black and another that is a classic red and came with its own matching wrap. I bought a pair of pajamas with shimmery pants. What is with me and used pajamas? I cannot help it.

Also a gold, black and white geometric top. And a deep red blouse that is like something out of the 18th century. And a coat that will need new lining but what the heck, I loved it, and it was $1.

For once my mom did not try to stop me. It was hopeless.

There was no stopping me!

I amassed this huge pile of clothes and I wound up paying a grand total of $25. Oh, and this is something else. I had competition at the sale. This other woman was there and she was about my size, which, I hate when that happens because you want the same things. But she brought her husband with her, or her boyfriend, or whatever he was. As the computer would say: Fatal error!

Do not bring a man with you to these sales in any way, shape or form.

"How would this look on me?" she would say, holding something up.

And he was wisecracking: "I got one just like that. I get all kinds of compliments."

"Oh, stop."

While they are having this precious exchange I have scooped up five more items.

End result, as we like to say here in Buffalo:

Competition: One dress, and I had turned it down anyway because it was denim and I am not really a denim person.

Me: WNW.

Whole New Wardrobe!