To Thrift or Not to Thrift: Art supplies for little guys
Filed under: Home, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Shopping
As a girl, I was a perfectionist. I can remember my boxes of watercolors, and how I obsessively rinsed my brushes between colors so as not to turn them into a rainbow of blacks and browns. Pastels were even more precious, and took a soft touch to blend them on paper, but not on the instrument itself. It's hard to create when you're spending your energy focused on keeping things neat and orderly.And then I had kids.
The first time I let my two-year-old destroy a perfectly good watercolor box in a happy hour, I took lots of deep yoga breaths and then faced facts: I was not about to run back to the art supply store after every messy creation to get a new box. Painting in the black and brown spectrum didn't faze him at all. Why fight the power of a preschooler's exuberance?
So during my next trip to the Goodwill Bins, the outlet where everything is sold by the pound, I "picked" until I found some treasures. A very good quality, but heavily used, watercolor set, missing its brush. A treasure trove of fancy pastels, half of them dumped out of their box. In five minutes, I'd gathered up all the broken and chalky bits and ended up paying less than a dollar for my artistic treasure.
It turns out that the art supplies are now partially destroyed, and I often end up discovering a brilliantly-colored pastel chunk underfoot (note to mothers out there: don't clean up pastels with vinegar. It's like dying your floor). But I don't sweat: I rescued those supplies from the trash, so I can let go of my obsessive-compulsive self and just let the little boys be. Thrifting art supplies for little ones is the way to go.
This post was written as part of a series on how to thrift shop smarter. Read more on what to buy, and not to buy, at thrift stores.
Part of the problem inherent in cookbook shopping is that it's really hard to take it for a dry run, first. You can get a feel for a pattern book by the photos of the finished object; for fiction, you can read a few pages and see if it draws you in. But you don't cook for how a meal looks, and all the brilliant prose in the world won't save a badly composed set of instructions for a loaf of bread.
If you enjoy a hot beverage once in a while, you've probably felt it: the conviction that a lovely mug would make you happy. Do you know the domestic bliss encapsulated in that tableau; a clean surface, a project you enjoy, a mug that signifies your style? It's the still-life art as life.
It's why buying mugs from thrift stores, is the better way to go. Never troubled by a chipped or crackled mug, I delight in discovering the lonesome pottery or ceramic that might make my coffee table complete. I pay a dollar, or less, per interesting colorful vessel and it brightens my life, until it breaks, without depressing my wallet. I don't have to commit to just one look, either; I can choose the speckly one with coffee, the green one with tea, the snow-flake-covered one with hot chocolate. Thrifting mugs? It's a win-win.
There does seem to be something sleazy about the idea of buying someone a "thrift gift." How cheap can you be? Here's a different spin and all it takes is a bit of thought and creativity.
For years, the only way sweaters made it into my wardrobe was because some woman -- sister, wife, Mom -- put them there. At $75 and up, sweaters never seemed a justifiable expense -- I was living in the South, the only cold I really dealt with were walks to the car in January, which I managed just fine in a coat and short sleeves.
Of my many stupid habits, few are more ill-advised than hoarding record albums. If you're considering the hobby -- maybe you dig on old music, perhaps today's bands just aren't cutting it for you -- forget it. The ends do not justify the means.
Julie Tilsner had a 