Philosophy of reselling?

Most of what I thrift, I plan to at least try to resell.  And yet, I haven't done a ton of research on what sorts of items are hot sellers, and I don't go looking for particular brands/marks/designers/etc.  Maybe I should.  Maybe if I did, I'd be already making money at it.  But I admit I haven't ever been all that motivated by money.  Don't get me wrong, I'd like to have money.  I'd like to make money off of my obsession with vintage things, particularly.  But money has always seemed more like an unfortunate necessity that forces me to spend 40-50 hours a week in a cubicle than something I want to someday swim around in like Scrooge McDuck.

I don't care about the best cars or big houses in perfect neighborhoods.  And so like everything else in my life (the French lit degree, trying to move to Mauritius, getting involved in urban ministry...), I know I probably could make choices that would make more money thrifting.  For instance I keep reading about people making money off of certain Starbucks mugs.  But I can't be bothered.  I keep passing on the mugs, for $.10 at St Vincent de Paul, because they just... don't interest me.

So I buy what I like.  Sure, I keep my phone handy and Google the names on labels sometimes, but for the most part, if I don't get excited about it personally, it's not coming home with me, and if I do get excited about it, I don't care what Google says.  I'm hoping that "what I like" (which is a very, very broad category) translates into "what people want to buy", but I'm not trying to force it.  Which in one way is nice, because... at least if nobody does want to buy it, I'll be stuck with a bunch of stuff I like, instead of a bunch of stuff I hoped other people would like.

But if you are, or are thinking about being a reseller, do you have a coherent philosophy for what you buy?  Do you stick to a certain type of thing, or a certain era, or a certain aesthetic?  Do you buy only what is in a certain price range, or what you think will sell for X amount more than what you pay, or, like me, do you just blunder around without a plan, buying what pings some pleasure center in your brain and hoping it will do the same for the next person?

Back to the blog

Hello, everyone!

I hope  you all had a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Boxing Day.

I had so much fun with Christmas this year!  I did all the things I always mean to do, like baking and coming up with special wrappings for gifts instead of throwing them in last year's gift bags.  I don't have any pictures of my baking, but here are some of the packages I wrapped (I was inspired this year by Julie Andrews to do these:

Brown paper packages tied up with... er, well, yarn.  

I didn't have any string handy.

I made brown paper curlicues and candy cane hearts and felt awfully crafty!

And used my carry-everything basket to transport them.  

I paid a non-thrift price (a rare occurrence for me) on this basket at a 

street festival I accidentally attended in Springfield, Il over the summer.  

At the time I wasn't even sure why I needed it, but now 

I'm not sure how I ever lived without it.

  I use it at least once a week, and it's sturdy and well-made and pretty, too!

And Santa was very gracious to me this year, too!  I got to spend time with so many people I love, I got a really nice hanging rack for my ever-growing vintage clothing collection, and not one, but two yellow elephants!  It's possible you might not all know about me and yellow elephants.  If so, let me just explain that I collect them.  Because it's fun to say yellow elephant.  Go ahead!  I dare you, say "yellow elephant" a few times, especially if you say it fast - I dare you not to get a smile out of it.  It's a little-known fact.  

I haven't brought everything in from the car yet, so instead of the ones I actually received for Christmas, here are shots of some of the yellow elephants in my collection:

1940s planter and plaster child's-room plaque

Plastic watering can - 1950s?

A trio of planters.  I think the middle one was created for a 

Republican National Convention or something, but in spite of it's political origins, 

it gets along fine with the others, so I love it anyway ;)

Tiny ones!  Erasers.

A bank. another bank that started life as a cookie tin, and a glass paperweight.

I actually have a few others - a couple of not-very-attractive stuffed ones, and some that are in need of repair.  I was discussing the yellow elephant thing with a friend the other day who had, apparently, tried to explain to someone else about my collection with little success.  It is my contention that the more yellow elephants I have around, the more excuses I have to say "yellow elephant", and the more free smiles I get!  Simple enough, right?

Update on the little pot from Monday and a thrift FAIL (or, laterally speaking, a chance for thrift genius)!

Hi all!  I still haven't unpacked my biggest and most interesting score from Monday, but here, as a consolation prize, is a cheap plastic item that will probably make you smile:

HEY, KOOL-AID!

But wait, there's more!  Remember the little pot from my first post?  The one with the sort of repeating Rorschach glaze pattern?  Well, I just happened to see a seemingly similar glaze style on an ash tray yesterday afternoon in the basement at Retro 101 on Cherokee Street (a very cool shop - any St Louisans with a yen for retro goodness, especially clothing, accessories and "smalls", needs to check it out!).  The ash tray in question had a sticker on it that read "Treasure-Craft, Compton, CA".  So I came home and googled Treasure Craft, and while I didn't find anything exactly like my pot, here's a Treasure Craft tidbit tray with very similar glaze colors and style:

from SWANKmoderndesign.com

More interesting still, when I googled "pottery glaze rorschach", Item #3 was this.  So what do you think?  Did I find the origin of my little pot?  It seems like a pretty reasonable guess, at least.


On another note entirely, I picked up a pair of slightly-too-big but very comfortable and seemingly sturdy desert boots while thrifting awhile back, and I've worn them a few times, and quite liked them until today, when the sole of the right boot started just peeling away, like so:

Thrifted desert boots - luckily I didn't pay much.

Now, this happened about 3 hours into a 12 hour work day, and as you can see, the sole peeled off quite a bit.  In order to make more than 2 steps without tripping, I had to walk like I was either:
A. Igor (or whatever Doctor Frankenstein's assistant was called), or
2. in a Monty Python sketch.

So on the one hand, giant fail of a seemingly good thrift find.  On the other hand... opportunity.  I can either:
A. throw them out - they're no good to anyone now.
2. look into shoe glue and try to fix them, because they really are very comfy and the materials are really good, even if they apparently weren't stuck together very well, or
C. try something crazy!

You know I can't just do A.  I'd have to at least try something else first, or I'd feel guilty.  So here's the inspiration for the Something Crazy I'm thinking about.  I apologize for the quality of the picture; I basically took a picture with my decent camera of an old snapshot I took years ago that's in a frame under glass that's, quite frankly, not very clean:

An old shoe (probably my grandfather's) 

on a concrete table under an overgrown arbor.

Now, I'm not sure how other people will react to this.  Some folks might think this picture is gross.  I think it is fabulous on a number of levels, including:

A. I love the idea of this small physical representation of nature reclaiming it's own.

2. It looks flippin' cool.

C. It's just so ODD!

So I've had this fascinating image in my mind (and on my tv stand) for ages, and recently, I came across this:

From this interesting site I need to peruse more,

where they have a recipe for growing moss wherever you like!

Now, I live in a postwar bungalow in South St Louis city surrounded by zoyzia grass rather than an old English garden or something more suited to this lovely and intriguing art form, but I filed the idea away for "someday", now that I know a recipe exists.  So today, when my really very cool (if slightly too big) desert boots decided to fall apart, I have to admit, I'm thinking hard about giving this a try.  I'm not sure what I'd do with Moss Boots once I had them, but surely something would come to me... right?

What do you think?  Try to repair, or collaborate with Mother Nature on a weird little art project?