Monday, 11 November 2013




We're all a little in love with this thrifty find

Unpacking thrift treasures

It doesn't take much to please me. I'm not a demanding woman. Some may see this as aiming low, whilst others may see this as the path to contentment. But really now, a vintage pattern (or three), some pretty pots, a jar of buttons and an hour or two to browse treasures? It's the type of retail therapy I like and makes this mama's heart glad.



I'm sad to say though that thrifting isn't what it once was. All those old haunts in which treasures could be found for pennies, making the heart pitter-patter, well, they've all wisened up and commercialised. Prices are silly and there's not much to be found really. Sad, considering I virtually furnished my home with thrifted finds.

There are one or two hit-and-miss places left which I haven't been to in a while. Maybe now it's time to make the effort. But it makes the things I do bring home a little sweeter none-the-less.

Have you thrifted anything recently?



  1. Sweet! Especially that men's short bathrobe :-) I have a very funny experience of one of them ... that never allowed me to look at a work colleague the same way again! Our thrifting is still good - there's a couple of stores in really expensive suburbs that are just having themselves on with their prices - a woollen blanket WITH HOLES and they want $40 for it! But in our favourite thrift stores, treasures are still easy to come by. As for furniture - well I prefer the footpath! Most of our home is furnished with hard rubbish and it is still awesome :-) But I do fear for the future - so much of what is built today is just crap - won't make thrilling hard rubbish at all!

  2. Really? Now I have a mental image of men in bathrobes oh dear.

  3. Oh I shall have to tell you - it's really very innocent :-) I once worked at a school where the foreman of the grounds and buildings was hard to get along with. He was snarky, sarcastic, unhelpful, very slow to act, and unreliable. Everything was always too much to ask and it often seemed his real purpose was to make our lives and those of our students as difficult as possible. One afternoon, I had borrowed the school truck to pick up some furniture and had to return it to his home that night. This was all approved by the School Manager and was something staff did regularly, but usually we would return it to school, not the foreman's home. Anyway, I arrived at 9pm - the agreed time - and knocked politely on the door. His mother answered the door - very suspicious and unfriendly (like her son really), and when I said who I was, she screeched "Rudolph!!!!" (not his real name) - "There's some girl here with your truck!" Silently, from out of the shadows beside the house, Rudolph appeared - dressed in a short brown and cream striped towelling bathrobe, his work boots, and his hair all wet and plastered down. He took the keys silently and disappeared back into the shadows without a word. His mother glared at me and slammed the door shut. It was soooo funny! No matter that he was a large, solid man in his 50s, at home in his short bathrobe he was like a little boy with his mum bossing him around. After that, I was never too scared to put in a work request again - all I had to do was think of him in his short bathrobe and there was NOTHING to be scared of!

  4. Nothing like seeing a man being told off by his mum to put him in his place.


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