Question: What cost $6.75, is black, looks fabulous, made my day, and goes perfectly with my $50.00 Beverly Johnson wig?

Answer: The results of my last trip to Goodwill.


Shopping at Goodwill (or any other thrift store) can be a great activity. Mining the rejected, the odd items, the used, the marginalized, the ignored, the passed over to find a true gem that speaks to your personal style is gratifying to say the least (at least 50% of my eclectic wardrobe has been culled from the bargain bins at second-hand stores.) Being able to separate the chaff from the wheat in the thrift store aisles is a skill worthy of cultivation (along with predicting the exact moment Macy’s will mark down the quintessential pair of black pumps, knowing how to really mess up a wig, and understanding the difference between “fashion forward” and “fashion risk”.) The best thing about a successful trip to the thrift store is being part of the process of transformation.

The first level of transformation is the garment itself. For example, yesterday among the thorns I found a couple of true roses – a gorgeous, Rina Rossi, three-season, 100% wool, black pencil skirt that fit like a glove and an unlabeled part cashmere semi-off-the-shoulder knit top (photos added to my profile). Before I chose them, tried them on, and bought them, they were someone’s cast offs. The moment I found them they became desired items once again. In an instant, trash truly became treasure. Nothing about the skirt or top changed physically, but what they were changed completely.

The second level of transformation is me, the wearer. Thrift store shopping requires a dedication to finding just the right item (after all, who would take the time to hunt through the chaos of fabric, style, and color only to take home something they didn’t want?). So, when you take something home, it’s something perfect. And when you finally find that perfect item -- something that seems made for you, something that reflects your style -- you are transformed from a person seeking to a person who has found. Your efforts are rewarded and you look and feel great.

The third level of transformation is the store itself. This is the most important transformation. The thrift stores in my town look like thrift stores. Since they are often earning income to support charities, they are in low-rent plazas, near equipment rental stores or next to unoccupied storefronts. The windows are dingy and they smell funny. Frequently, a light blue 80s prom dress is displayed on the wall above the women’s section. There are a lot of crying babies inside. (I consider it my sacred duty to help entertain children of women trying to shop. It’s a solidarity thing.) But, as one sifts through hanger after hanger of the wrong size, wrong style, wrong fabric, wrong decade, wrong color…and finally finds something wonderful, the store is no longer a second-rate shopping experience, but has become a quixotic bazaar for the unique and individualistic. Nothing about the store has changed, only the perception of it.

I know many women who will not shop with me at Goodwill, Value Village, or St. Vincent de Paul’s. My mother (lovely person) is one of them. She can not imagine wearing someone else’s cast offs. She does not like the experience of pawing through other people’s rejects. The stores strike her as dusty and dirty. She is happy with the department stores. I am not. I want to dig in the dirt to find the opals. I want to see water and sand transformed into gems.

If you think about it metaphorically, having hair loss can be like a trip to the thrift store. Optimistically rifling through an experience considered unpleasant to some searching for a personal treasure is transforming. Rejecting others definitions of what should be thrown away is rewarding. And best of all, dealing positively with hair loss can help you embrace an inimitable, exceptional style!

Revel in the unexpected gems!

With affection for all of you wonderful women,

Marie