Ebay Finds
Well, I’m just buzzing with dopamine after a little online shopping sesh. I decided to buy a couple pairs of pants for the upcoming trip to Germany. My current pants and jeans are way too big unless I cinch them with a belt, and I don’t see them lasting me until December when we get home. I think my weight loss should start slowing down simply because I weigh less and am therefore in less of a calorie deficit. But at the same time, an inch or two difference in pants sizes is more significant than before.
So I broke down yesterday and went to the nearest thrift store, Savers. They tend to have more of a selection than the Salvation Army, albeit their prices are a total rip-off in comparison. My current men’s 501 Levi’s jeans are a 38 waist, so I looked at the size 36 Levi’s that they had. There weren’t any 501s, so I tried some other styles. One pair were skinny jeans, another pair were grey corduroys that were way too big for some unknown reason, and the one pair I actually considered looked like something you’d wear to an Eminem concert in 2002. They had huge knee-length pockets and wide legs, but it was really the ridiculously low rise that eliminated them for me. I mean, I know the kids are all wearing “mom jeans” from the 90s but these were basically the opposite of being on-trend. I tried a bunch of men’s pants and got pretty grossed out. I considered a pair of J. Crew chinos but they were just too khaki for me, and kind of tapered, too, so they wouldn’t fit over my boots.
As I got home and started stripping my clothes off straight into the laundry, Matt started joking around about exactly how gross thrifted men’s pants must be. As I was in the shower, he started speculating about various activities that must have occurred while wearing said pants. Sweating and sitting had crossed my mind, but I always throw thrifted clothing right into a hot wash anyway, so I didn’t really think that was such a big deal. But then things started to get more graphic: bathroom-related behavior, for instance. And then things really crossed a line when he suggested that when examined under a black light, the pants may reveal certain evidentiary material. I shrieked and suddenly felt very embarrassed for waxing so poetically about thrifted men’s pants. Somehow I was thinking about the pants in the same way I considered the women’s dress section. Sure, someone had worn these clothes before, but I never envisioned anything untoward happening during that time. The train of thought Matt introduced was deeply disturbing and just about ruined my dinner.
Today, however, shaking off the skin-crawling experience of the Savers dressing room, I decided to go on Ebay and give it another go. First I searched men’s 501 Levi’s and sifted through the results in my size, priced lowest to highest. Everything under $15 total had visible dirt stains on them. But I found a clean-looking pair with some wear for $11.60 plus $6.95 shipping. They actually have a dry-cleaning tag on them, which is weird for jeans, but I was sold. New Levi’s cost $50-$60 and are not sustainably or ethically made, so I’m more than happy to pay the $18.55 to get exactly what I was looking for- and not have to dig through the racks to find them.
Next, I was hoping to find some pants comparable to the ones I’ve been wearing lately- these charcoal grey, almost flannelly-type ones from the brand GEORGE. I don’t know who GEORGE is, but I do love these pants, so I searched for the brand in my new waist size and inseam. This narrowed things down quite a bit, and I scrolled to the bottom of the page looking for anything not black or khaki. Lo and behold, there was one pair of charcoal grey pants that looked a lot like the ones I own and love. After inspecting the pictures, I actually became hopeful that they might be the very same pants. I checked my tag for a style number and compared it to the one in the photo. By some act of the Ebay gods, I realized that they are in fact identical pants- simply in a 38 waist instead of a 40. For $6.95 plus $11.20 shipping, I will have the great pleasure of continuing to wear my favorite pants despite my change in size. This was positively a shopping thrill, beyond even that of the success of my epic, multiple-store quest for knock-off Adidas sneakers in my size.
I suppose I could have gone a different route, gone to Kohl’s, and looked for any new pants that fit. But even then, it’s hard to know how new things will fit once they’ve been washed. I tend to hang-dry my pants for this very reason. But when something’s thrifted, I can throw it in the dryer without a second thought, since I’m pretty sure this has been done before (God knows men don’t typically drip-dry their jeans). So this exciting online spree saved me the time and torment of dressing rooms and laundry disasters. I actually know what I’m getting, and I didn’t have to (in some small way) harm the environment or the garment workers to get it.
So now I’m prepared for this next little chapter abroad, and I won’t be squeezing into my still-too-small clothes in storage. I can just be right where I am, in my own time, in my own body.