The Goodwill Fangirl

Mum or Not?

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 01 Jun 2014 21:38:00 +0000

So I was explaining to Dear Hubby 'bout how I left a can o' Sprite in my car console, and how it exploded in the summer heat and made the ickiest most disgust-O mess ever, and what a dummy I am and how long it took to clean up...

...and then he says it was him.

Not. Me.

Huh?

H&M Dress ~ Thrift shop score $6 in 2011

a.n.a. necklace ~ Snagged on clearance sale before store stopped carrying brand :(

Workhorse sling back pumps (nope, not the brand, just what they are) ~ had for years

He confessed to a shaving cream incident. Don't ask. But props to him for totes honesty.

Me? I'da pro'bly kept mum.

Got one before my necklace tried to wander off without me.

What about you? Mum or not if you'd been the doer of th' deed?

The Corginator

You wouldn't believe how many page hits you get with the word "dog" in your post.

Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog.

Check Out th' Crap Rack

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Wed, 28 May 2014 01:15:00 +0000

Any of you that regularly haunt your local secondhand stores know what "Th' Crap Rack" is, often a small rack of rather forlorn and slightly dusty clothing items marked 75% off, usually full of very weird clothes that didn't sell and are headed for the rag basket. Heavily sequined Mother-of-the-Bride tops missing the matching bottoms. Icky polyester shorts that make you itch just looking at them. Tiny fragments of lace with satin-covered buttons and ruffled sleeves that even your cat couldn't squeeze into.

And two weeks ago, this very nice Loft blazer. $6. Soft grey. Goes with everything. Wrinkle-free. Perfect to cram into your carry-on for a business trip. Or heck, just wear it with your jeans on the plane so you have room for another pair of shoes.

Loft jacket ~ local consignment store

Loft skirt - like 10 years old

Red pumps - secondhand as well, several years ago

Yep. One woman's crap is another woman's perfect classic jacket.

Love, peace & grace,
Lynne

Posterize Me

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 25 May 2014 01:46:00 +0000

Seriously, y'all, sometimes I think I just take pictures of myself so that I can play with the photo apps.

This is pattern-mixing, right? Bricks & fern-like fronds?

I'm a little embarrassed to share this outfit because nothing is secondhand. But this was one of the first dresses I ever wore on the blog, years ago, and it did come off a clearance rack for less than a tenner. And my boss at the time liked my pale yellow cardi with the ribbon trim so much, she ordered the exact same one.

Eh. It's just stuff. You'll see it again.

For the record, this is the first time I've worn nail polish, in like nine months.

Love, peace & grace,

Lynne

Menswear for the Ladies

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 22 May 2014 00:52:00 +0000

Patti at Not Dead Yet Style has been styling menswear shirts in her work wardrobe for years, regularly achieving that effortlessly classic Katherine Hepburn signature look. See her "Visible Monday #73: Crisp White (Man's) Shirt" post to see a man's shirt worn by a very beautiful woman.

Alexander Julian Colours man's shirt (S 14-14 1/2) - Goodwill

J. Crew ankle pants - Factory outlet uber clearance a few years back

Bandolino flats - Hamricks a few years back

Like Patti, I like the slouch of a man's shirt. For a small person, I have really broad shoulders, but also like Patti, I can't borrow my 6'3" hubby's shirts. Inspired by Patti, I'm always on the lookout for a crisp (but no-iron) classic man's shirt. I haven't had much luck finding a beautiful white one, but the Goodwill Goddess has kindly delivered a lovely pale blue one, and this cool pale lavender man's shirt into my grateful hands, for less than $4 each.

I tried to add the feminine touch of a purple skinny belt, glittery rhinestone bracelet, and flats with floral accents to stay in touch with my girly side, but you tell me. Do I have the same problem I did as a kid, when peeps often mistook me for a boy?

Love, peace & grace,
Lynne

Manhattan Goodwill

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 15 May 2014 00:56:00 +0000

Whenever I travel I have to visit the best Goodwill in the city. I know, some peeps who visit NYC go see the Statue of Liberty.

Lands End dress ~ Goodwill (Manhattan)

Belt ~ 75% off at local consignment store

Miz Mooz Tillman pumps ~ Amazon (heh, google them and my feet show up in images :o)

Me, I go visit the Manhattan Goodwill, even after accidentally taking the wrong train to Brooklyn.

Cuff ~ Gift from Megan Mae

Because it takes more than a two-hour detour to get between me and my Big City Goodwill.

Love, peace & grace,
Lynne

Happy Mother's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 11 May 2014 18:18:00 +0000

I know some of the most wonderful moms in the world, including many of you. But there are two very special moms out there I have never met - but who gave me the most extraordinary Mother's Day present ever: the gift of life for The Teen. When their babies were born, they donated their cord blood, which was in turn given to The Teen via a stem cell transplant, curing her of a previously incurable disease, and saving her life.

Now my next greatest Mother's Day wish is to thank them, so I'll be getting in touch with our pediatric bone marrow transplant team coordinator to find out if we can at least write them, even if we never know their identities. Their children are now a part of my child. If you donated your child's cord blood at birth, please know that you may have donated a miracle - maybe even our family's miracle.

Banana Republic top - Goodwill

Boyfriend jeans - Goodwill

Naturalizers - Gift from Megan Mae

Goorin Bros newsboy hat - eBay

Vintage brooch - an heirloom from my wonderful grandmother, Mimi

Love, peace & grace,

Lynne

Orange U Glad 2 C Me?

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sat, 05 Apr 2014 22:20:00 +0000

Or, Yes, I Am the Orange Powerpuff Girl

The Goodwill Fangirl almost never came back after The Teen's bone marrow transplant. (We're doing third person today. It's just easier to keep a little distance right now.). The other side of transplant wasn't what anyone expected. No amount of pre-admission education could prepare her for the hurricane emotions of fear and joy, rage and sorrow, grief and awe that flew her high and flung her low since last August, when two units of cord blood from the generous mothers of two children she'll likely never meet were given to her youngest daughter, to replace the bone marrow that was doing its best to kill her.

Photo Credit: Dear Hubby

Toe-Curling: Stop that, honey, it makes you look nervous.

Clothes and Accessories: Vintage 60s floral pants turned into skinny jeans (thrifted a coupla years ago); Lace cami (@$2.99 at The Rugged Wearhouse many years ago); Talbot's cardi (gleefully removed from a clearance rack during one of the last trips she bought anything actually new); Loft flats ($11 final clearance a couple of years ago; maybe not everyone likes sequins on their feet?); Purell hanging from bag (every bone marrow transplant mommy has one of these)

She sure didn't care what she was wearing, but she knew whose child was so close to death that the parent could not change clothes for a week. She didn't want her own picture taken, and The Teen did not want any photographic evidence at all. The Teen knew she was a phoenix rising from the ashes, but she did not want to see the fire ever again.

The Goodwill Fangirl lost her place in the world, and for a long time didn't think it mattered. Getting dressed to buy groceries was too much, and there were too many confusing places full of clothes she couldn't remember liking, much less buying, in hospital drawers, suitcases at the Ronald McDonald House, and in the bedroom closet she hardly ever opened. And yes, in the trunk of her car, which quite frankly, was just too freakin' much to handle.

But she had to get dressed sometime - don't we all? And she lost 13 pounds somewhere along the way. One day she looked in the mirror, and realized that her clothes didn't fit, her hair had no color, and she had forgotten how to apply eye liner. She looked even tireder than she felt, which was pretty damn tired.

Then she enrolled in a college class after many decades away from formal education, got a little part-time job in an area of the law that she hadn't written a book about, and accepted the occasional social invitation because her Dear Hubby forced her to. And she broke her no-shopping for a year ban, which was pretty easy to stick to when she didn't care, but she had to have a few smaller clothes that fit. She remembered this whole style blog started to celebrate real women with real wrinkles and real problems, including getting dressed for work, even if they hadn't gotten their first paycheck yet.

And who better than The Goodwill Fangirl to share her experiences as a middle-aged woman, starting everything anew, and turning first to Goodwill to get some clothes that fit right now, that make her feel like a woman who walks fast, like she knows where she's going, even if she hasn't quite regained her footing yet.

But she will, I know she will.

Home-Home

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 17:56:00 +0000

The last two weeks have been full of surprising but welcome changes. At our first outpatient clinic visit following our daughter's discharge from her third admission to the pediatric bone marrow transplant unit (PBMT), our treating physician shocked us by saying we could start the transition of some of the post-transplant care from Duke Medical Center to our home hospital, Brenners Children's Hospital. We had estimated it might be at least mid-February before we could move back home, due to all the complications. While that was definitely welcome news, we were caught a bit off guard as we had quite a bit of work to do to move out of our home away from home, The Ronald McDonald House.

But as is the case with bone marrow transplant recoveries, plans are usually subject to change, and later that afternoon a blood level for the key medication to treat Graft vs. Host Disease came back alarmingly low, and our plans were adjusted to include a Sunday clinic visit and then our usual weekly visit to the Duke outpatient clinic yesterday.

Yesterday's visit went well, and included the surprise removal of the peripherally inserted catheter in the kiddo's arm. The nurses were unable to draw any blood from it, after quite a bit of effort, and the doc said go ahead and remove it since she is not getting many IV medications at this time. The in-office removal was painless and much less of a invasive procedure than the outpatient surgical placement on New Year's Eve. This means no more daily flushing of lines, cap changes, or dressing changes, and is one more sign that she's moving toward full recovery.

Everyone is excited that the bone marrow transplant numbers are looking terrific, and that our daughter no longer has Sickle Cell Disease. She is still dealing with complications of transplant, including Graft vs. Host Disease, blood clots, temporary diabetes from the steroids, and weight loss that is concerning. Our transplant doc calls this the "honeymoon period" post transplant, i.e. looking good but there is still a possibility that GvHD could flare and cause issues in the new few months. We will continue to follow-up at Duke regularly and for emergencies, and her six-month post transplant studies, as well as follow-up ultrasound of the blood clots, are scheduled for mid-February.

We turned in our keys to the Ronald McDonald House yesterday, and brought the patient and the last carload of belongings home. There are still lots of medical appointments and follow-up treatment in our future, but everyone is happy to be at "home-home" again, and most important, all together under one roof for the first time in many months. Our big challenge now is fattening up the kiddo, but hopefully a new medication to stimulate her appetite will help with that.

We cannot thank all of you enough for the many ways you've helped support us through the hardest medical miracle we've ever experienced - the donations, the food, the cards, the gifts, the visits, the emotional support, and all the well-wishes. Sometimes it just helps to talk, and you guys have been awesome.

Love, peace, grace & Godspeed on your own life's journeys,

Lynne

Status Post Third Admission

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Fri, 10 Jan 2014 14:28:00 +0000

That's medical speak for our daughter's Christmas Day readmission to the Pediatric Bone Marrow Transplant Unit, due to new occluded blood clots formed from the use of her central line. We felt very fortunate that we got to go "home-home" for two days before Christmas, and had our big day and prezzie-opening on Christmas Eve, because our oldest daughter, The Costume Technician, had to fly back to NYC on Christmas Day. Mom was scheduled to go with her for a few days, as a lovely gift from awesome Dad and Dear Hubby.

Instead, the kiddo came downstairs on Christmas morning with her left arm swollen and painful. A quick call to Duke determined that the docs wanted us to make the hour drive back to the PBMT ASAP, so Dad took the patient to the hospital, and Mom took the oldest to the Raleigh airport. An ultrasound done Christmas night revealed new blood clots. Mom freaked out a bit, not only over the blood clots created by what she had labeled the "ticking time bomb" central line, but also because there was no dinner to be found on this biggest of U.S. holidays for Dad and patient, who was lucky she got a remarkably bland meal tray. Thankfully, the wonderful folks at the Ronald McDonald House of Durham saved the day, making us to-go boxes from an awesome seven-course Christmas dinner being served by a local singles group.

Our daughter had outpatient surgery on New Year's Eve to remove the central line from her chest, and to place a less invasive peripheral line in her right arm. Although she was in good spirits, with a load off her chest both figuratively and literally removed, the post-anesthesia puking hit right before midnight, so she and Mom watched the ball drop on TV while switching out plastic bins. While her body's own anti-clotting mechanisms will work on the existing clots, the removal of the central line and administration of anti-coagulant therapy during the coming months will hopefully prevent any new clots from forming.

On Tuesday, January 7, we were discharged back to the Ronald McDonald House of Durham, which as lovely as it is, has been likened to exchanging one "cellblock" (what they actually call the PBMT unit) for another. With her autoimmune system still extremely fragile, there aren't many opportunities for outings for a bored teen, other than hated early morning visits to the outpatient clinic. On the bone marrow front, she is actually doing beautifully, with amazing lab numbers, and to use the analogy of a complex computer system gradually coming online, many systems already up and running, and more coming on board every day. Right now, she does not need IV fluids or tacrolimus administered at home, but she still has multiple insulin injections every day and a daily Lovenox (anti-coagulant) injection. Her spirits are improving, but she is still easily fatigued and sleeps a lot, while this miraculous new bone marrow, free of Sickle Cell Disease, continues to make itself at home in her body.

I apologize for the long lapse in posting. Dad has been a rock throughout all of this, his patient and laid-back personality a real plus for long term care-taking. Mom, the OCD worrier type, has been a little more emotional, especially over the holidays. Not only am I a multi-tasker and long-range planner, a real plus as a paralegal, but I am also a multi-worrier and long-range angster, not so great when so many aspects of my life are out of my control right now. I've had a hard time embracing "the new normal" when it keeps changing all the time, which anyone who has cared for a loved one going through the ups and downs of a life-threatening illness can relate to. Every day, I can look at my strong, patient youngest daughter and know she is a walking, breathing miracle, and that she has a much brighter future than she did had she not undergone the transplant - while still worrying about the multiple other areas that are still uncertain in our lives. But I'm learning to do something that has always been hard for me, especially since I'm so used to helping others, and that's to accept some help myself.

There's an incredible amount of grace and humility involved in an experience like this, and I do feel so fortunate for all of the many different kinds of love and support we've received from all of you. We could not have done this without you.

We are so grateful that you are with us on this journey, and wish you Godspeed on your own life journeys,

Lynne

My Hair, Revisited

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Mon, 16 Dec 2013 14:18:00 +0000

Sasha Jane, ticked off velvet accessory stand for my honking rhinestone ring and vintage silver bangles

Until the end of the year, be prepared to be to see some schizo hair lengths; I'll be sharing a few outfit pics that didn't get posted when they were actually worn. As I approach my 2014 shopping sabbatical (witty awesome title still not determined, suggestions welcome), it's a relief to find forgotten photos from before the bone marrow transplant, and be reminded that I do have ~~way too many for one woman to ever wear~~ lots of clothes I love, even though they've been worn only once ~~or less~~ this year. One goal of not adding new clothes to my closet is to thoroughly enjoy the ones I do have and to make the most out of re-mixing them.

The Deets: Bow-tie blouse from Indian tailor (Indian flea market stall);

Maxi skirt (Ross clearance, $7); Impo booties (old)

Another goal for next year is to thoroughly enjoy my hair - once it grows back into a bob. Super short hair is not for me. In the early months of living on a bone marrow transplant unit, it was a great no-maintenance do, but it became surprisingly expensive, because it needed to be cut so frequently. Even though The Teen wouldn't let me shave my head when she shaved hers, the last time I had it cut in September, I practically scalped myself, hoping I could do an effortless Jamie Lee Curtis style, and be done with hair maintenance forever. Um, no. Instead my thick straw-like locks shot out like an angry hedgehog's quills, and nothing would do but to start growing it again, so the longer weight will pull my hair down and give it the illusion of softness.

One style lesson I learned this year? Short peeps can look long and lean in maxis.

Of course I know it's just hair, and with The Teen only beginning to show the barest signs of hair growth post chemotherapy, I'm not obsessed with it. But man, I miss it.

Have you ever regretted a drastic hairstyle change?

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 15 Dec 2013 15:38:00 +0000

That’s how the recovery seems to go for many pediatric bone marrow transplant patients, especially adolescents, infants, and toddlers. During the long monotonous days and months of heavy medication, frequent medical visits, and crushing isolation, suddenly recovery will seem a little more tangible and closer, a medication discontinued, lab results more normal, or a pass home granted. An actual date signaling the end of the strange, abnormal existence completely focused on the round-the-clock maintenance and vigilance of that fragile new bone marrow system seems calculable. Normalcy seems tantalizingly within grasp.

10 years ago, when a cure for
Sickle Cell Disease was unimaginable.
We do know this is a miracle.

And then, as happened with our daughter this week, little signs indicate that recovery might not be continuing quite so steadily, albeit at a plodding pace. An alarming weight loss, increased vomiting, and a call out of the blue because a lab result showed the critical oral medication to treat her Graft vs. Host Disease was strangely no longer being absorbed by her body. Suddenly, the second much-needed weekend pass was revoked (she got to come home for the first time since July 29 last weekend), and a new home syringe pump was delivered to administer that medication in IV form. In the world of bone marrow transplant recovery, decreased IV medication is one of the signs that home and normalcy are one step closer. Adding IV medications, scheduling increased clinic visits to monitor the levels of that medication, and losing the chance to go home so you can be close to the bone marrow unit in case of emergency, push the longed for discharge date to the care of your home hospital back to an unknown. Again.

And then the pity parties start. Again. Our teen patient, already sick, bored, frustrated, and lonely, retreats further into sleep. Eating is a depressing effort, with no appetite, but the knowledge that if any more weight loss occurs, an IV for liquid nutrition and more time at the bone marrow clinic will be the next steps backwards. The difficulty adjusting to the strange bubble world of bone marrow transplant recovery becomes more pronounced, and the frustration of dealing with constant inquiries about symptoms, eating, and just barely minimal activities of daily living much more evident. Being a teenager with a normal high school experience is hard enough; being a teenager left out of your senior year and living in a small space with your mother is the worst thing that ever happened to you.

I haven’t talked much about being the parent of a bone marrow patient, but the loss of control of our own lives is one of the hardest experiences we have, along with watching our children suffer terribly and not being able to do much to relieve that misery. We parents cling together, and when we get a minute to chat, endlessly discuss bodily functions, medication administration, catheter maintenance, and yes, that helpless feeling that everything in our lives right now is absolutely beyond our control. It helps. For me, missing my husband and best friend desperately as we change caregiver shifts like ships in the nights, lacking a job and health insurance for the first time in my life, watching my small retirement savings vanish to keep a roof over our heads, endlessly cleaning our temporary home at the Ronald McDonald House and our “home-home” (bone marrow transplant speak) for an auto-immune suppressed patient, and yes, living with a sick and frustrated teenage daughter, with whom I’d always gotten along beautifully before, have worn me down to the core. There are too many days when I feel like the worst parent in the world, too tired to do more than make sure the central line is maintained, hook up the IV meds timely, and beg my child to eat something, anything, even if it shoots her sugars through the roof.

I wrote in a Facebook status earlier this week that I know we will get through this, stronger and ever grateful, and we will. But right now, in this very moment, while we are taking that dreaded step backwards – again - that longed-for date when normalcy might start again seems like never.

Reason Number 683 to Wear Bling: You Will Look Like a Princess

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Fri, 06 Dec 2013 22:50:00 +0000

Not everybody can afford a diamond, much less diamonds plural, which is why rhinestones (does it sound better to say diamond simulants?) are so fabulous and accessible, with the added value of being extremely versatile. Throw on a rhinestone collar with a sweater and jeans for chic casual look guaranteed to get you noticed (in a good way hopefully) at the grocery store, or while having cocktails with the girls. Add one to a simple dress, and go to the office and out for cocktails afterwards. Hmmm, in summary, rhinestones and cocktails go together really well, but I digress, yes?

Heck, even real princesses rock rhinestones.

Via Today News

If I'd been anywhere near Kate on this red carpet, I would have had to stifle the extremely undignified urge to wrestle her to the ground to grab this exquisite collar of faux gems. At best, I would have stalked her mercilessly until I could see the collar in all its fabulosity really super up close (bifocal crowd here) and then asked some incredibly gauche question, like, "OMG. OMG. No, really, OMG. Are those The Crown Jewels?" Well, doh, obvi, these are paste (not really obvi, I thought they were real), and no, we commoners still can't have them because they're already sold out online.

This is where secondhand, vintage and/or preloved jewelry comes to the rescue. I have several vintage multi-chain rhinestone necklaces discovered in flea markets when I was in college, as well as an antique one inherited from my grandmother. But you can also find them online, ranging from $10 to several hundred dollars, depending on the age, designer, and condition of the piece - and the number of rhinestones. Don't rule out vintage-inspired or reproduction pieces either, especially for a well-made piece that suits your unique style.

I could happily spend hours browsing online for antique or reproduction rhinestone necklaces fit for and inspired by a princess, such as this lovely collar, a little less showy than Kate's, but done in a beautiful classic design suitable for both special occasions and everyday wear:

Via eBay (available as of the date of this post)

So, dear readers, are you Team Rhinestone Collars Even in Broad Daylight For Sure, or Over-Sugared Tiara-Wearing Tots Can Stick Rhinestone Collars Where the Sun Don't Shine?

Is that a Dog Pin on Your Cat Sweater?

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Tue, 03 Dec 2013 12:37:00 +0000

Yep. A vintage mink dog pin. Which makes it totally okay.

Pin via Etsy last year

The cat sweater itself is one of the rare new clothing purchases I made when I was still gainfully employed. Animal graphic sweaters bring me to my knees, and I've never seen a single one, other than those that fall into the Ugly Sweaters category, in our local thrift stores. I scored this Loft cardi for under $20 during a flash sale. It has pink cats all over it. I would've paid more. Because I want critters on my sweaters, dammit.

The Deets: Loft cardi (flash sale); Vintage pants (thrifted);

Dog pin (Etsy); Booties (old); Assorted bracelets; Earrings I've had since the 80s

And let's talk about these vintage pants for a minute. I paid $7 for them; the thrift store was going out of business, or nobody would be caught dead in these pants. You pick. They are a peculiar paisley-ish, and a hello-kinda-bite-me orange. The first time I wore them on the blog, they were boot cut, and the entire outfit was one of the worst I'd ever posted. Heh, which is why there is no back link. I did ask readers if I should alter them, and most said NO! But man, they were tough to work with, because they mostly said BITE ME. They even spent some time in the donate bag. I skinny'd them instead, and now they play nice with my wardrobe.

These skinnies make me happy.

Before I started blogging and reading other style blogs, I would have never worn patterns together, or even these pants. Certainly no pink cats. Sartorially, I was deep inside the box, and it was mostly black. Inspired by bloggers who are much bolder, creative, and original than me, I finally have one paisley-ish leg mostly outside of the box - and I like it.

What is better than one mink dog pin? Le sigh....

Bling. Breathing. Equally important, yes?

So where do you stand on the animal graphic sweater trend? Team Totes Amazeballs, or Team Only 4 Year Old Kids Wear Animals on Their Clothes?

The pink cats are joining the party at Not Dead Yet Style's Visible Monday - where mature style bloggers share their ageless beauty and original style.

Giving Thanks for the End of the World

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 28 Nov 2013 17:19:00 +0000

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. ~ T.S. Eliot

The Thanksgiving selfie.
The necklace is a gift from Sheila.

There are crushing periods in many of our lives that I think of as The End of the World As We Know It, when we experience catastrophic change that evaporates our comfort zones, rips away what we believe we hold most dear, and leaves us feeling sucker-punched to the point we can't breathe, much less cry. Sometimes The End comes without warning, and sometimes it arrives in a slow motion, inevitable slide downwards, one that we can see coming - but wish oh so hard never will.

We know that Very Bad Things happen every day. Most of us have seen The End of the World as We Know It within our own families, among our friends, and on the news. We cry then, and we try to help as much as we can - but it doesn't change the fact that someone's world as they know it is ending. And maybe we even imagine The End happening to us, but it seems like a remote impenetrable theory rather than anything real that we can apply to our own beloved comfort zones, our own experiences of holding people, habits, and what we think we know dear.

When The End of My World as I Knew It happened this year, it arrived with no warning, but also with plenty of warning. It came as complete surprise when a life-saving chemotherapy medication that had worked for eight years stopped relieving the symptoms of my youngest daughter's painful and incurable disease. Yet I saw the handwriting on the wall for at least a year, probably longer, before a career that defined me professionally, and perhaps too much personally, for most of my adult life ended. I'm not much of a crier in my middle age, but twice, I fell to the floor and cried great gulping tears – oddly months after I was sucker-punched with devastating medical and job losses. The rest of the time I sleep-walked through each day, and clumsily grieved for the end of what I believed I knew about myself and my future, and for the failure of the medical science that had held my fears of losing my daughter at bay.

But The End of the World As We Know It is also The Beginning of a New World As We Will Know It, whether we're ready for it or not. A different kind of medical science was offered, one that we'd always been told was never a possibility. My youngest daughter was accepted into a FDA clinical trial for a ground-breaking treatment to attempt to cure her incurable disease, one that holds hope not just for her, but for many adults suffering from previously incurable metastatic and genetic illnesses. But the trial is brutal in its own right and has more than its share of heartbreaks. A different career path, one that will use much of the medical and life experience I've already earned, has become possible, but will be grueling to pursue while keeping my household afloat. I’m staying focused on the new found discovery that what I believed I knew about the rest of my working life is now filled with more opportunities for fulfillment than I ever imagined before The End.

The beginning of my life with a beloved feline, thanks to Megan Mae.

So maybe it seems odd to be giving thanks for the End of the World as I Knew It, but I am. The End seemed unbearable, with so many comforting routines and long-held expectations - even if some were self-limiting - gone forever. But it’s where our family is starting anew. It's the hardest beginning we've known so far, but we'll take it and welcome the hope that comes with it.

Peace, grace & love,

Lynne

Selfies and Self-Ageism

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Wed, 20 Nov 2013 20:42:00 +0000

Taking pictures of yourself goes hand-in-hand with being a style-blogger - even if you hate being photographed, like I did for most decades of my life - and still do. Extreme camera shyness goes hand-in-hand with my extreme every day shyness, and my homely childhood and adolescence. Learning how to present myself, personally and professionally, and even learning to photograph myself in my preloved clothes, never increased my eagerness to get my picture taken. But turning 50 weirdly did increase my fascination with Oxford Dictionaries' 2013 Word of the Year: selfies.

Who'da thunk getting more wrinkles would pique my interest in taking my own head shot, like almost every day? Maybe if I wanted to go all Photo Shop on myself it would make sense, but as technologically inclined as I can be, my few forays into even Photo Shop for Dummies have made me feel like a single-celled organism. Plus, I hate Photo Shop and air-brushing and all of the techniques that make pictures of people look fake. I want real people, peeps.

But in this, my 50th year, I have suddenly gone off the rails with the selfies. I know what that looks like, since I live with two teenage girls. They are so adorable, youthful and photogenic that I completely get their fixation on taking their own pics anytime and anywhere. Not being so adorable, youthful or photogenic, I was genuinely puzzled when I started snapping my own pic anytime and anywhere.

Self-ageism might be the culprit. I know, other people are supposed to discriminate against you on the basis of your age, not yourself. But I wonder if I try to sink my own ship simply because of a number. 50. Don't get me wrong. I'm so glad to be alive. I'm even delighted to be mature (mostly), because my immature self never learned anything unless she banged her head against a brick wall repeatedly. Now I'm more likely to lean against the brick wall and hope it's not crumbling.

I think I'm taking the selfies to try to see myself as others do, and to try to see myself as I really am. When I have moments of uncertainty, thinking I might be too old to start completely new chapters in my life, personally, academically, and professionally, I take my own picture and stare into my own eyes. Do I look strong enough, emotionally and physically, to start over? Am I too old to change? Can I embrace new concepts that may have intimidated me in the past? When I feel self-doubt, am I letting the number 50 get in my way?

Most of the time I tell myself I can do anything. And when I have moments that I think my age might make my goals unrealistic, I take a selfie, or even look at my own blog photos, and think, "That woman is empowered and capable, and who gives a rat's ass how old she is."

Even if teenage girls do take way cuter selfies.

Do you take selfies? Why or why not? Did you start a dramatically different chapter in your life in your 40s or older?

A Drinking Game, or Readmission to the Bone Marrow Unit

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 17 Nov 2013 19:08:00 +0000

I don't think I have the words to convey the shocking turn of events that has landed The Teen back in the Pediatric Bone Marrow Unit, a/k/a 5200. I kept thinking of all the humorous ways I could spin this into an entertaining read, as I'm used to doing as a blogger. Then I thought, "Lynne, this just isn't damn funny."

An ultrasound this week revealed that The Teen has a large blood clot in her neck. (I could bore you with the medical terminology but I'll spare you). The cause was likely a series of unfortunate events, including her central venous line, the steroids she takes for Graft vs. Host Disease, and her pre-existing narrow blood vessels due to her Sickle Cell Disease. That last condition was one of the main reasons she was a candidate for a bone marrow transplant to start with - but the good news is that her blood vessels should fully recover within a year or so of a successful transplant.

The bad news is that another series of unfortunate events prevents our medical team from using the anti-coagulant therapy normally used to treat blood clots, at least for right now. That wonky central line, so hated already, and now a huge contributor to the problem, cannot be removed, due to risk of moving the clot. Interventional measures are on hold due to the high risk to The Teen - but would be implemented if the situation gets worse.

So what IS happening? In many cases, this type of clot simply self-resolves (again, I'll spare you the medical explanation). For now, we watch and/or wait and see. Our family is playing an imaginary drinking game every time one of the many specialists comes in, evaluates The Teen, and then says, "Well, we're just gonna watch it, and wait and see." (If you feel super sorry for me, please bring a cocktail shaker and the ingredients for a Cosmo by the hospital, so at least one of us can turn this into a real drinking game...)

On the bright side, The Teen's new bone marrow is doing what it is supposed to, slowly coming fully to life and working to make all the different components of her blood, at different rates depending on the type of blood cell. She looks and feels a little more like her old self, and is able to work on her virtual high school classes. Some of the lingering side effects of chemotherapy and normal complications following a transplant result in some days being much better than others, but other than being back on the unit for very close observation of the blood clot, and administration of IV fluids and antibiotics, she IS recovering. We remind ourselves that she is getting better, regardless of our relocation back to 5200.

Thanksgiving is The Teen's absolute most fave holiday, mostly because of the fabo traditional feast we gleefully prepare and consume. What she was hoping for the most was a pass to go home to Winston-Salem for Thanksgiving, even if only for the day. Whether she'll get a pass to the Ronald McDonald House, much less home, is very up in the air right now, but we remind her that we'll count our blessings to be together as a family, that she is recovering, albeit slowly, from a transplant, and that we can still gleefully prepare and consume a feast no matter where we are.

'Cause that's how we roll.

We can't thank you enough for following our winding path, and the many ways you've all supported us along the way. We wish you Godspeed on your own journeys.

Lynne

_______________________________

I'm publishing our COTA blog updates here as well, for those of you that have said you can't access them.

Big Labels on th' Cheap at Salvation Armani

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 14 Nov 2013 13:00:00 +0000

Okay, it's really Salvation Army, but I heard someone call it Salvation Armani once, and that's the only way I think of it now.

The Deets: Jones New York wool blend jacket (Salvation Army); Loft top (Salvation Army);

Talbots trouser jeans (thrifted); Life Stride loafers (old);

Doggie pin (Amazon last year. I really wanted a doggie pin).

After moaning and whining in my last post about why I can't stop shopping, even if it's only at Goodwill and secondhand stores, I'ma confess that I felt really stressed out earlier that day, and that this new-to-me blazer and top were merrily being washed even as I was writing and whining.

Blue girl, happy funky blue wool blend girl.

I did ask y'all why I could not stop shopping, and Aya of the lovely blog, Couturgatory, enlightened me and made me feel tons better about myself (hey, this secondhand style blogging thing is almost like free therapy, except for the part where I spend money thrifting part...). Aya's comment at my last post was so awesome, I have to share it:

I relate completely to your closet-stuffing woes. I keep going over trying to purge things, but they're things that fit and things I like very much.

My unfounded theory is that searching for treasures and exploring is an instinct we have from ancestry- women traditionally searched through areas for gatherable food, humans explored and settled new land, etc.

I think we want to explore and discover and get that positive reinforcement from finding treasure. Careers make us very specialized now, when many of us still instinctively want to keep learning new things. Thrifting is (hopefully!) a mild and harmless form of satisfying that and decompressing from the rest of life.

~ Aya of Couturgatory (November 2013)

This blouse does not wrinkle. I will never part with it.

I love this quote and Aya. We can't help treasure-hunting. It's genetic. It's reinforced voluntary behavior. (I'm taking a developmental psychology class right now. Be prepared for lots of big behaviorist theories to pop up in posts, as I'm now the very clueless equivalent of a college freshman expert in why humans do what they do. Except I'm old, but humans still surprise me every now and again.)

Who said I'm too old for a doggie wearing a cat coat pin?

But Aya's right. As vices go, it's relatively harmless. Unless your family has sent a video of your home to the producers of Hoarders and you haven't been able to find your pets since that last truckload of goodies you hauled in from Goodwill.

Then it's harmful, but you can still blame it on genetics. Addictive personality, dontcha know.

Training for a Marathon - with a Vacuum Cleaner and Rubber Gloves

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sat, 09 Nov 2013 15:29:00 +0000

Some of you have told me that you can't access my blog posts about The Teen's road to recovery from her bone marrow transplant at our COTA site. I usually post the links on my Facebook page, but I'm going to re-print them here as well. Her journey is our whole family's journey, and we've all changed forever. You'll see some of the changes in both this blog, and my secondhand style.

* * *

I know it's been a while since we've posted. Sometimes minutes, hours, and days pass in such a blur of activity, I turn around and find the months have changed - but I'm still stuck in the last one, at least in my head.

The Teen in June 2013

For months, our lives have revolved around The Teen's transplant, and all of the necessary care-taking activities and home-preparatory tasks that go with it. As we approach the 100th day marker post-transplant, I can honestly say we're all grateful - but tired, so very tired. I've started telling people who ask that this is the hardest miracle we've ever experienced.

More than anything, The Teen just wants to go home. She wants the Hickman catheter, now only 50% functional, removed. Lab draws from the catheter are nearly impossible for everyone, whether it be parent or experienced nurse. The last couple of draws have been done via peripheral stick.

Still, even a partially functional catheter is a fact of life for a while longer. Minorities who receive cord blood transplants from mismatched donors are at the highest risk of post-transplant complications, including Graft vs. Host Disease. Her attending physician is conservative - when he says she can go home, we'll know it's truly the optimal time.

We had hoped for even a day pass soon, which meant an even more intense flurry of activities around our home this week, including getting the carpet and duct cleaners in. For months now, when I'm not in Durham, I've been at home, cleaning. Yes, we have pets, and our small home needed a good spring-cleaning, but I'm thinking of this as more of a life-cleaning. On the plus side, I'm getting in the best physical shape I've been in my life. Sometimes I imagine myself running in a half-marathon, wearing rubber gloves, and pushing a vacuum cleaner while simultaneously sani-wiping every surface along the way. (I don't think I'm getting a Nike commercial out of this lovely image, huh?)

Even though The Teen is doing well for a recipient of unrelated cord blood cells, the days are still long. Catching up on three online Advanced Placement classes is no picnic. Self-administering insulin while counting carbs - yet still trying to keep weight on - take even the comfort of most comfort foods out of the picture for a while. This week, hearing that the wonky, hated catheter stays in for longer than hoped, and that the much-desired home pass is still a bit in the future, wasn't easy. A long sleepless night from a flare of symptoms, and an unscheduled day long clinic visit weren't highlights of the week, to say the least. The necessary isolation due to her still low lymphocytes is frustrating - and honestly, kind of soul-sucking at times.

Most of the parents of bone marrow transplant patients will say the same thing, "It's baby steps all the time, a few forward, then a few backwards." Sometimes there are signs of amazing progress, followed by the complications inherent in growing a brand new autoimmune system.

So if you haven't heard from us, we're taking baby steps - or sometimes, running, running, running, running, wearing rubber gloves, spreading bleach 'round like peanut butter, and wearing out the motor on the vacuum cleaner. Or picking glass out of a window broken by a furniture mishap. (There is a country music song in here somewhere.)

Godspeed on your own life journeys, and please know that we're so very grateful for your interest in ours.

Love, peace & grace,

Lynne

Thanks to Readers.com, I Live My Cool Glasses Fantasy

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 07 Nov 2013 01:56:00 +0000

I want to give y'all a heads up; this is a product review (I promise there is an outfit at the end), but it's about an accessory that I have already waxed lyrical about BEFORE I started style blogging. Lemme quote myself (how obnoxious, right?):

So I have reading glasses EVERYWHERE: in my purse, in the car, on my night stand, in my laptop case, in the loo, on the kitchen table, in the kitchen drawers, on the coffee table and often, on top of my head.

And, yes, before my kids rat me out, I've been known to wear reading glasses on top of my regular glasses - but only in the privacy of my home.

~ "Got Reading Glasses?" (May 2009)

The Blythe frame (black/purple); (scarf gift from Megan at Megan Mae Daily)

So when Readers.com offered me an opportunity to review their products, I said, "I'm your girl!" And by girl, I mean 50 years old, kinda abashed owner of a trifocals prescription, and so vain that I rarely wear said way-too-thick-lens-because-I'm-pretty-much-blind glasses in favor of the ol' contact lenses and reading glasses combo. (I can't afford Botox, so this is as close as I get to not accepting my age.)

The Blythe frame again, with my antique beaded collar (worn backwards)

But I love glasses as a fashion accessory, and I always think they look so cool on other peeps. The inexpensive reading glasses I usually pick up on the fly at Wally World or my local pharmacy don't even pretend to look like real glasses. (And why should they when they're part of a three-pack for $7.88?)

The Bates frame (black/green) (animal print purple scarf, thrifted)

However, when I started perusing the cool collection of readers at Readers.com, I nearly hyperventilated. I was going to get reading glasses that were actually trendy, pretty, and cute. (If you're younger than 40, and you're completely puzzled by this post, bookmark it and come back when the print on your fave e-reader becomes blurry and you're too embarrassed to increase the font again.)

The Wild Thing frame (red) (scarf gift from Gracey at Fashion for Giants)

Even though I have a huge head when it comes to hats, I have a small face when it comes to glasses. So I picked size small in readers, and then selected three styles I thought would make me look extremely intelligent and hip, you know, that whole uber-geeky old school glasses thing that's going round right now. (I hope it stays 'cause I like the view through the super large lenses.)

When I opened the box, and tried my selections on, I knew I had reached a new and awesome level in my love of readers. These peepers are true fashion accessories, and extremely affordable ones at that. Prepare to see them in many future outfit posts. I love them all, but the purple ones are my fave to date. Yes, I will be ordering at least another pair or two in different styles so that I can rock my chic readers (no matter where I am), and finally be the cute girl in glasses.

Even my mom loved the readers from Readers.com, especially the purple ones.

Readers.com is kindly offering The Goodwill Fangirl readers 30% off its regular prices, but you have to click here to get the discount.

This is the whole base outfit (minus fabo reading glasses), if anyone is still here:

Petite Sophisticate sweater (Goodwill); Antique beaded collar made in Japan in the 1950s ($5, eBay); Monet's Water Lilies print tee from The Met (I know, a shame to cover up the lilies, oops); old stretch jeans; boots from Kohl's clearance last year; Corgi print by Joni James from CalligramORama (via Etsy)

Pink bangle (Goodwill); Purple hinge bangle (Chinatown NYC); Antique beaded collar eBay

Whew, long post for me. Don't get me excited y'all, I will likely never shut up :P

If the Shoe Doesn't Fit, Wear It Anyway

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 03 Nov 2013 22:07:00 +0000

Er, no. Ixnay ill-fitting shoes, because your pinchy feet will drive you mad. Same for squeezy clothes, right? But maybe not for brilliant squeezy clothes?

I've had this secondhand dress since The Absent-Minded Professor treated me to a long Mother's Day weekend earlier this year, visiting The Costume Technician in NYC. On the day she had to work, I visited every single thrift and consignment store within walking distance of her apartment. Because that's how I roll when I travel.

The Deets: ROGAN dress (designer label made in NYC, $13 thrifted; vintage rhinestone brooch (purchased in 1980s); Miz Mooz Tillman pumps (Amazon last year); tights (Marshalls last year, I think)

I fell in love with this dress, but it was a wee bit snug in the hips - so snug that the cool gingham lining of the pockets puffed out like small party balloons on my hips. Sigh. Too small. I was puzzled and bummed because the dress fit my broad shoulders with room to spare, and I don't actually have much in the hip department, being built like a pencil.

That didn't prevent me from trying the dress on a second time before leaving the store, because I thought it was the best dress ever and that I would gladly throw all my other dresses away if this one would just stretcccccccchhhhhh and fit me. Dammit and waaaaah. Still too small. I reluctantly put on my Big Gurl Panties and left it.

Until I came back later in the afternoon, tried it on again, mooned over myself in the dressing room mirror, and still couldn't deny the gingham pocket linings pooching out on both sides of my hips.

And bought it anyway. I had to because the label said:

I love you because you are beautiful and smart and in control of your life and finances your business acumen astonishes me and makes me want to arrange your flowers.

Well, hells to the yeah. Oh, and I've lost a little weight, so it fits me now. The pockets only pooch out when I sit down.

I guess I could just sew them shut...

P.S. I'm excited to link up with Not Dead Yet Style's Visible Monday. I hope you'll check out all the participants rockin' their style at any age.

I'm Poppen Tagz for Halloween

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Thu, 31 Oct 2013 18:53:00 +0000

Halloween is my absolute fave holiday. Historically, I've always taken any opportunity to party on Halloween as an excuse to have a few drinks, boogie down, and bring my sexy back. This year I'm blessed to be living near a major research hospital while my youngest daughter recovers from a curative stem cell transplant for Sickle Cell Disease. There aren't so many opportunities to party 'round here, so I leapt at the opportunity to attend the virtual Halloween party thrown by my fabulous friend, Ally, the thoughtful and stylish blogger at Shybiker.

Check out Ally's party here.

Because this is a style blog about mostly secondhand fashion, I decided I wanted to be an extra in the Macklemore and Ryan Lewis Thrift Shop song video. I had about 20 minutes to put something together at Goodwill. I snagged a brilliantly hideous purple frock with giant balloon sleeves bigger than a dorm refrigerator, which would have made me look exactly like Violet Beaureguarde - but when I saw this vintage halter formal, I tried it on and knew I wanted to wear it to every future party I go to. I upgraded to the sexy-Grandma-slash-much-older-model-girlfriend-of-the-lead-singer in the video.

On my way to pay, I got distracted by a big box of animal scarf mitt hat thingies. When I tried this one on, and it fit my large head, I knew I could wear thrifted fur like Ben, and also channel the most frightening woman I've ever seen, Megumi from What Not to Wear, Season 10.

Plus, I can wear it to walk my dogs. The faux fur, not the formal. It's a win-win all 'round.

Did you dress up on your blog for the Halloween holidaze? Please feel free to add your costume link if you comment!

Yawn, a Boring Black Turtleneck

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Wed, 30 Oct 2013 12:46:00 +0000

The first couple of years I started style blogging for recessionistas, I abandoned my signature black clothing. I thought I'd get kicked out of the style blogger club if I didn't flash color regularly. I did learn to love me some color, but deep down inside, I missed the classic ease of my black clothes.

I even donated one of my long time wardrobe basics, a black turtleneck shirt, to the Goodwill.

The Deets: Anthropologie jacket (super clearance years ago); Turtleneck (Target last year); Levi stretch bootcut jeans (Goodwill); LifeStride booties (old); Rhinestone necklace (Loft clearance, old)

But then last year, on one of my infrequent trips to Target, I surreptitiously dropped a new black turtleneck into my shopping cart. I mean I paid for it an' all, but it felt a little like shoplifting. I put it in the back of my closet, and then ignored it, fearing my readers would find it to be a huge yawn if I wore it on the blog.

However, an opportunity to have dinner with some besties arose last night. After three months of living on a bone marrow transplant unit, that black turtleneck suddenly looked desirable, beautiful, and well, honest. I love black clothes, I truly do.

The Deets: Vintage silver bangles (two a gift from Jean of Dross into Gold)

and my Ronald McDonald House ID bracelet

Besides, black is an awesome backdrop for The Bling.

For a Good Time, Spend $25 at Goodwill

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Tue, 08 Oct 2013 14:59:00 +0000

Or, Let's Talk Dirty

So in my last post, I shared a valuable tip for identifying boyfriend jeans. You are so welcome!

Please forgive the more rambling post than usual. Y'all know I don't get out much these days.

Dirty dressing room MIRROR, folks. iPhone selfie pics again.

But I kinda like this keepin' it real at the Goodwill approach.

Ralph Lauren men's shirt; no label boyfriend jeans; um, yeah, Crocs;

hospital, Ronald McDonald House & Grow, Cells, Grow bracelets

I know the right thing to do is give this pendent as a Christmas present.

But if it's wrong to keep it, I don't want to be right.

I roam around Goodwill often, but frequently leave empty-handed. (Except for those $1 vintage brooches and plastic beads I collect like a magpie.) I know I don't need many clothes, and I'm enjoying the ones I already own more than ever. The lovely and witty Vix at Vintage Vixen wrote the best post evah about not getting sucked in to each season's new fashion trends, and the foolishness of thinking we have nothing to wear:

Reading posts by bloggers identifying gaps in their wardrobes, complaining they've nothing to wear and identifying what they need to see them through the forthcoming season is a constant source of fascination for me. I mean, what happens to the clothes they already own? Do they honestly disintegrate and have to be binned or, more likely, are these women simply bullied by the fashion pack into believing that their existing stuff is so outdated they'll be laughed out of town for daring to wear something that isn't deemed bang-up-to-the-minute? ~ Vix from Vintage Vixen

Vix is right. If we're honest with ourselves, most of us first world dwellers do have something to wear. But the clothes always seem more desirable in someone else's (or some other style blogger's) closet.

(Warning: After the jump, I admit I practically stole candy from a baby. Stop here, and go do more productive things, like hug your own clothes.)

Re-mixing fun with Renfrew Collection shirt & Old Navy western style shirt with snaps!

I was also heavily influenced by Cameron from Modern Family, with the contrasting cuffs and collar.

I'm adding the plastic jools. I think Cameron would approve.

However, living out of a suitcase and a hospital drawer for months has given me a welcome reset of my clothing mindset. Having less makes me re-mix more - and bolder. Do I only have a clean striped skirt and floral top? Yep, so I'm wearing them together. And liking it.

This shirt has bendy wire in the collar and French cuffs.

A quick Internet search indicates this brand is a li'l pricey on eBay.

I paid $3.40 for it.

But I did think I needed a few things during my Sunday roam around a local Goodwill, courtesy of Goodwill Industries of Eastern North Carolina. I don't have much in the way of casual cold weather clothes. (Because I used to go to work in an office.) Fall is here, and the hospital is bitterly freezing.

Is this Dollhouse brand stretch denim thingie a dress or a duster? I vote both.

It makes me feel super badass which what is most important.

Pretty, shiny coral beads.

I'ma tell on myself here. As I approached the Goodwill cash register, where they keep all the jools, I saw a fresh-faced high school or college aged young woman holding the plastic coral beads shown above, and wondering if she should buy them.

I wondered if it would be okay to tap her with my cart to make her drop them. Exercising all of my impulse control, I looked at the other pretty, plastic shinys.

Then she put the necklace back. I promise I acted all cool, and waited approximately 27 seconds to quietly snag it. Then I heard her tell her friend, "I should have gotten that necklace but now that woman has it."

Hmmm, be nice and give it to her? Um, no, because I am that woman.

$25 also gets you a long secondhand clothes haul post. If you're still here, I promise I love you enough not to tap you with my cart to make you drop shiny stuff I want when we go thrifting together.

Bonus full confessional pic:

My other pair o' Crocs, duet Mary Jane style, ultra violet purple soles. I call them pillows for my feet.

A Pre-Post Tease...

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Sun, 06 Oct 2013 22:55:00 +0000

...Or, How to Identify Boyfriend Jeans

I had a little time to myself today, and of course I did what all caregivers should do to relieve stress and increase the flow of positive endorphins, and went to the gym.

Um, okay, I didn't. But where I went does start with a "G". Does that count?

Er, I added the sparkles. Because Goodwill deserves them.

Ugh, I'm so busted. I went to a Goodwill store, where I often go, and don't buy a thing. I just push a cart around for an hour or so...or more, look at interesting clothes, and make up stories about their past lives. I also re-home many of them to all my secondhand clothes loving friends - or would if I had an unlimited supply of dollars for postage and purchases.

Hey, don't bust my chops. Chillaxin' in th' Goodwill is mostly a harmless vice. And I have a rule. When I bring home an article of clothing, at least one article of clothing already in my closet has to move on in The Great Circle of Clothes & Bling.

Inspired by some of my fave bloggers, including Tamera at The Menopausal Supermodel and Lisa of Dreamz-n-Wishz, plus a bunch of other style bloggers way cuter and younger than me, I've been fruitlessly searching for a pair of boyfriend jeans.

Only I find it challenging to identify these highly sought after jeans, especially in racks and racks of jeans not even sorted by size. What is the right color? How wide should the leg be? Can I bear to distress jeans? (No. It would distress me. Plus, in my personal style lexicon, seriously ripped stuff is to wear while painting the living room.)

But today, the thrifting heavens opened, and a pair of boyfriend jeans gloriously revealed themselves to me as follows:

All I have to say is, "Hell to th' yeah," and "Thank you for stating the obvious."

The rest of my loot (and loot I did) will make an appearance in a post next week. Thanks for a fun and thrifty afternoon, Goodwill Industries of Eastern Carolina!

To the Maxi

noreply@blogger.com (The Goodwill Fangirl) — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 20:14:00 +0000

A while back when I wondered what I had to offer as a secondhand style blogger since I don't go to an office job anymore, one nice reader said, "Just show us what you're wearing every day."

As we start our third month of living on a bone marrow transplant unit (almost fourth month if you count the three weeks we spent at the hospital in June for the pre-transplant work-up...er, I do), I admit that taking pics of myself hardly ever occurred to me, but I found one that I must have taken on a good day at home. And it's a good representation of what I look like most days in the hospital.

Ye Gads, I am wearing a headband!

Blouse (secondhand, thredUP); Maxi (Charlotte Russe clearance rack); Blue bracelet (you get a permanent one to wear everyday for FREE on the bone marrow unit)

Yep, I'm usually stressed out, and dressed down, to the maxi. (Yes, I had to go there.)

Today, I had actual business this morning, and leapt (I mean LEAPT!!!!) at the opportunity to wear "real" clothes. The temp was 85 degrees so I gave my pasty white legs an un-maxi-covered outing. It's clear I need to give my camera skills a few more outings, too. It looks like I had the exposure on "super pasty pale yellow cardi"...

Loft sleeveless dress (Goodwill); Cardi (Banana Republic clearance a few year ago); Wedges (Rack Room, old);

Vintage belt & coral rose brooch from my mom but no good pics, sorry)

The Absent Minded Professor takes the best secondhand style pics, so bear with me for a while. We might be together in the same house, say, by December.

I miss normalcy. And my own bed. And you guys of course.