Ever since the momentous Saturday morning when I found some $2 leather merlot-colored boots at a yard sale in my neighborhood, I can't seem to leave the local thrift stores alone.
Several times a month I drive to the Goodwill, maneuver the door handle with my sleeve, brave the old-lady's-closet smell and sift through stuff that other people have discarded. I have books, toys, clothing and furniture all thanks to thrift stores and people who dump their junk on the side of the road.
So why the obsession with used goods? The price (or lack thereof) likely has something to do with it. I guess I also like to think that my inner Project Runway fanatic loves to create something new and chic from something old. And the Rachel Zoe in me craves the feeling I get when someone begs to know where I got that fabulous skirt and I get to tell them, "It's vintage."