I spent a whole Saturday last month driving to seven different thrift stores. My back hurt from bending over bins. My
hands smelled like old wool. By store number four, I almost gave up.
Store number four was a waste of time. So was five. But store two and store six and store seven? Those were worth the trip.
Here's what I found and how I found it.
How I Find the Good Ones (And How You Can Too)
Walk past the window display first. If everything is perfectly folded and color-coded, prices will be high. If the window is just a pile of winter coats in July, go inside.
The best stores smell like dust, not fragrance. Fragrance means they're trying to cover something up.
I always check the denim rack. Not because I need more jeans. Because a store with good vintage denim usually has good everything else. Old Levi's don't end up in bad stores.
Monday mornings are best. Weekends get picked clean by noon. I learned to go when everyone else is at work.
L Train Vintage (Bushwick)
A 1990s Gap denim shirt for $18
The Bushwick location is chaos. Clothes everywhere. No visible organization system. I almost walked out.
I'm glad I didn't.
The denim section was a pile on the floor. I knelt down and started flipping. Most of it was junk. Stains, weird cuts, things that should have been recycled years ago.
Then I found this shirt. Light wash, pearl snaps, soft from being washed a hundred times. The tag said 1990s. The collar had that perfect rolled shape that only comes from years of wear.
The shirt lives in my closet now. I wear it open over a white tee. Hemingway tried to sleep on it once. I moved him.
Urban Jungle (Bed-Stuy)
A 1970s wool blazer for $28
This store is small. One room, crowded racks, good light from the front windows. The owner sits by the register and doesn't watch you. I like that.
The blazer was hanging near the back, squeezed between a puffy ski jacket and a bridesmaid dress from hell. I almost didn't see it.
Brown plaid. Fully lined. Buttons that look like real horn. I held it up to the window. No holes. No stains. Just a little pilling on the cuffs.
A fabric shaver fixed that in three minutes.
Downside: the shoulders are a little wide for me. Not in a costume way. In a "I borrowed this from my dad" way. I've decided I like it.
I wore it to a friend's dinner party last week. Someone asked if it was The Row. I said no, it's twenty-eight dollars.
The Thrift Shop on Myrtle (Clinton Hill)
A 1950s embroidered handkerchief for $4
This place doesn't look like much from the outside. Sign is handwritten. Hours are unpredictable. The woman at the register calls everyone "baby."
The clothes are hit or miss. Mostly miss if I'm being honest. But the housewares section in the back? That's where the small treasures hide.
I found the handkerchief in a shoebox under a table. Pink and white embroidery, tiny flowers along the edge, no stains. The cotton is so thin I can see my hand through it.
I pinned it to the wall above my sewing machine. It makes me happy to look at. Cost less than a coffee.
The same shoebox had a 1960s brooch for $6 and a handful of old buttons for $1 each. I took the buttons too. You can never have too many old buttons.
One Thing I Wish Someone Had Told Me
You won't find something good at every store. Most trips, you find nothing. That's not failure. That's just how it works.
What's the best thing you've found at a thrift store?
