Yard Sale Memories, Part I

I give my mother all the credit for turning me into a yard sale junkie. She was dragging my three sisters and me to sales ever since we could walk. She had her own sale in July. The massive quantity of clothing that she was selling must have led buyers to believe that she had just robbed a clothing store and was quickly trying to unload the goods on her front lawn before the cops caught up with her. Even now, my mom has 10 full racks of clothes in her basement. Back in the eighties, my mom sold Doncaster custom clothes out of our home. Doncaster home sales aren't very well known, but they are basically like a Tupperware party. Except you get individual attention while you customize a chip and dip set that costs you $150. The clothes were expensive, but my mom got them at a discount. She stocked up like the world was coming to an end and your entrance into the pearly gates hinged on the number of boucle jackets in your closet. She hadn't worn any of these clothes in close to 10 years, so my sisters and I were glad to see that she finally decided to offer them up at her yard sale. She priced everything to sell (less than one dollar), so she sold nearly everything that she put out.

But our favorite thing that she tried to sell was a bunch of stuff that her ex-boyfriend had left at her house before they broke up a few years ago. There was a paper grocery bag filled with his underwear and socks (circled in red below, after I tried to hide them under a table). And boxes filled with all the gifts she had given him for his birthday and Christmas. Now we know that he couldn't bring them to his own house, since that would have raised a red flag to his wife.

The highlight of the day was when a tall German-accented woman uncovered the treasure trove of size 12 pumps that were hiding in my mother's bedroom closet. My mom had only put out a few pairs of shoes, thinking that no other human female would have size 12 feet and the urge for purple snakeskin heels.  But she found her match.  My mom kept running in and out of the front door, yelling, "I have more, I have more! Do you like chartreuse"?

Comments

[Farmerswife]

Your mom sounds like a hoot. A hoot with boat feet. She should send those size 12's to the gang on Lost. They could flag down a plane or ship with those big colorful pumps.

[Mom]

Colleen, I deeply resent that you have told the world that I wear a size 12-----please make a retraction immediately----I wear a size 11. Thank you in advance, Mommy

[Mom]

Colleen, I'm waiting.

[Sarah]

LOL, I love the bag of his underwear!

[Pam]

OMG TOO FUNNY.

[Sharon Jackson]

Size 12! Wow! And I was upset that since I got married and had 4 children within 5 years my feet have grown from a Size 8.5 to a Size 10. 10's aren't so bad afterall. BTW...does your Mom have more Doncaster fashions to get rid of?