There’s a consignment sale for women’s clothes going on in my town right now, and because I have way too many clothes that I buy (usually from a thrift store) thinking I’ll wear and then never do, I decided to bite the bullet and be a consigner. I entered every item online, and I can track to see what has been purchased, and after last night’s opening, “I” sold three things!

I admit, knowing that someone else now owns my awesome-but-always-a-little-too-big-but-awesome-none-the-less vintage navy and white striped double-breasted trench coat with matching belt (whew – what a mouthful), I feel a twinge of sadness. Something akin to “maybe I would have worn that a few more times – it is, after all, awesome.” But then I remember that it didn’t fit me well anyway and so I move on to a feeling of expectation and happiness, hoping I’ll see the new girl wearing it around town someday (looking amazing) and I will secretly know that I played a part in her stylishness. Creepy? Perhaps, but it helps me feel a little better.

My only other thought after I see things that have sold is, “someone bought it for that price – would they have paid more?”


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