Goodwill. We all know it. That dingy looking store that appears like clothes are about to spill out of it. We’ve all donated to it, or known someone who has. It’s a place to dump that pantsuit with the shoulder pads (my mom), or in my case, get rid of that gosh awful pleather skirt from Limited Two. Funny, how there are never a lot of cars in Goodwill’s parking lot.
Tonight I am going to a dance party with Intervarsity. Theme: What Not To Wear. Despite the fact that I am not exactly the best dresser, I couldn’t find anything too outrageous in my closet (other than the orange and black leopard print leggings, but that’s for another day). So, I called up my best friend Jane and we headed to Goodwill.
When I first walked in the door, I was overwhelmed by the amount of junk in Goodwill. Old stained shirts, bright orange ball gowns, and Mennonite garb fill the racks. The next hour was filled with “Oh! Here you go Jane! This is the perfect jean jumper for your date next week!” and other such banter. Finally, I found the winner. A pant jumper thing, similar to the old Osh Kosh B’gosh overalls I wore when I was two. Who makes these things in girl’s XL? Even further, who even buys that in the first place? I ended up asking myself these same questions as I browse the Christmas vests, Go-Go boots, and Pooh sweatshirts.
I think the saddest part about it is, I actually left there with two “real” purchases, a sweatshirt and a jacket. I approach the cash register with Jane and the cashier could not decipher our joke purchases from our real purchases. As she stroked a piece of hair from her fake ponytail hairpiece out of her eyes with her long red nails she says “I love this hot pink dress with the rhinestone in the middle! I don’t know why this is what you wouldn’t wear! I love pink!” Jane and I bit our lips trying to hide our laughter.
You can find some great things at Goodwill. I think if I searched hard enough, I would find a few more things worth buying (at least for two bucks). Goodwill is just one of the great parts of American culture. Its throwing away things you don’t want, just to return to the place and buy other people’s junk.

This is a really interesting meditation, actually. It reminds me a little of the essay we read, "Minivan Motoring" -- a reflection on a centerpiece of American culture.
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