I put the dresses and coat into garment bags and the
rest of the items in a suitcase. My son helped me take them into the shop. When
I arrived at the shop, the bags were hung from a clothing rack and the suitcase
sat on the floor. As I waited I looked around the shop and could see nothing
but a sea of clothing.
The shop owner opened the bag with the opera coat in
it and said at the get-go, “to vintage for our shop.” But they were impressed
with it and thought about taking it. But as for the dresses, they passed
without any regard for the classic clothing. “Nobody buys Laura Ashley anymore
and you can find her dresses for seven bucks at Goodwill.”
I asked about the things in the suitcase. She could
see I was upset so the suitcase was placed on the counter and opened. Once
again before they even looked through the items, they told me all of the
clothes were dated.
“Dated,” I astonishingly replied. I pointed out a
most unusual green silk blouse with fringe and beads on it, and the timeless
leather vests and skirt, and the designer boots. She asked, “When did you buy these?” I replied,
some during the 1980s, some recently.” “Dated,” she said again.
Closing the suitcase, she apologized and said that
the only clothing she takes in needs to be no older than 10 years. I was about
to retort, then said nothing. They repeated,
“These just don’t sell.” Then I asked about the opera coat and said, “You
really don’t want this coat either, right?” They both nodded their heads and
saying they just don’t think it would sell either.
So I called my son and told him to come back, that I
was done here. He was back in a flash, grabbed my things and out the door we
went, not turning back to say goodbye. 
So, now what do I do with this lovely clothing? If I
had the space, I would but some of it in our Family Museum. There are already several items of clothing in the
museum: my husband’s Leisure Suite, Boy Scout Leader Shirt, Navy Uniform, my pink
jacket with the rhinestone collar, my white gown with fringe down to the floor
that I wore when I became an American Heart Association Princess, and my very
precious pair of hot pink hot-pants. Even a pair of Louis Jordan shoes.
As I stored away again the clothes, I thought how it
really is a shame how our society has become such a disposal society; here
today gone tomorrow. People do not take care of their things and are quick to
dispose of it and replace it with something newer, but not necessarily
better. The past several generations have lost respect for, unfortunately, for more than just clothes. Many do not want their parents or grandparent’s things, family heirlooms, and much more. They are losing out on such a vital part of their family’s history by not at least trying to cherish what past generations have worked and strived for. And this goes for their own possessions, including their clothes.
I will be blunt here and tell these people to stop
being so unappreciative. Their insensitive attitudes and arrogant proclaimed entitlement
is appalling. If most everyone would cease being so quick to get rid of things
and take time to consider their ungrateful words and actions, maybe, just
maybe, our society would be kinder. If
everyone would try to be respectful of the past, we can have a more tolerable
present and a positive future.
Save your clothes, save your things, save your
history!
