Wanderers Row

coat: thrifted (J Crew)    hat: gifted    sweater: Target    blouse: thrifted (GAP)    leggings: Apricot Lane    boots: Itasca

There is a law, irrevocably decreed in the thrift store handbook, that as the women pillage and plunder through piles of clothes, that the men will all gravitate to the furniture section. I like to call this gazer row, because you see, the men they will sit on this furniture that is lined up as far as the eye can see and as you walk by they'll follow you with their squinty man eyes, ALL THE WAY DOWN THE AISLE. They'll turn and exchange glances with the other men as if to say, "Get a load of this hoarder!" and then when you turn to look at them, they'll just pat the arms of the chair they're sitting in like they're focusing real hard and pondering whether their chair is sturdy enough for them. Yes, wanderers row I call it. So today, I'm at the thrift store, and I really want to get to the suitcase section, which of course, in order to do so I must walk straight by wanderers row, and as I walked by there they were, about 7 men all sitting next to each other in grandma Lazy Boy's, you know the velvet ones that leave lines all over your face when you accidentally take a snoozer at your grandma's house. Yeah those ones. So they're all just sitting there gazing, and I thought to myself, "Sarah, what if you just stop and then just stare right back at 'em! Yeah that'll really show them!" So without even thinking about it, I stopped mid step, turned to gazers row, and stared right back. Well my friends, it was the most awkward staring contest that I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of. After about fifteen seconds one of the men just said, "Hello??" to which I just triumphantly turned and kept walking towards my beloved 70's suitcases. Sarah: 1 Gazers: 0. Until next time my sleepy looking dwellers. Until next time.