It seems I find a bin, tucked in the back of every thrift store, filled with metal knives and forks and spoons. In my house (I don't know about yours), forks have this way of disappearing. Maybe they go the same place as the mates for my socks (forks and socks: star-crossed lovers?). In any case, I peer into the bins, thrilled by the hope that maybe I'll find something great to fill in the fork section of my cutlery drawer.

And then I remember my cutlery drawer. Ahh, those thrift store purchases from long ago; the odd forks and spoons brought home accidentally from my husband's former job as a caterer. None of them were stainless steel, and one day I had a particularly large sink of dirty dishes and got out one of the thrifty purchases. I could distinctly taste the metal along with my pie. That can't be good for you.

Unless you can see the stainless symbol on the cutlery at the thrift store, stay away! The last thing you need is to introduce more metal into your diet (the mercury in your tuna is already too much). If you can taste it, it's certain that some of it is wending its way into your digestive system. I'm no expert on metallurgy, but I'm sure that these metals are not healthful dietary supplements. When you're out looking for a bargain: pass up the spoons and forks.

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.

Babies. Sigh. They grow up so fast, don't they?

Take it from a mom. Yeah, they do. So fast that anything you buy them will be too small within weeks. Babies wake up from their naps bigger than when you put them down. Toddlers grow like little weeds, AND they play so hard their clothing gets worn out before you get your value's worth. By the time they're in elementary school, the little nits seem to outgrow/ruin their clothes weekly.

That's why thrift stores are the only place to shop for kids.

Everyone has one (or two) of them in his family: The official holiday spirit monitor. Always pulling out the precious collectibles (whether that's emotional or monetary value should be left to another blog post). The bad news? Their houses are virtual minefields for little children, or the more clumsy among us. The good news? It's always really easy to shop for them. In fact, that good news can also be bad news when you're browsing in thrift shops and see the display of vintage Santas or artsy menorahs. Surely Aunt/Grandma/Mom/Uncle Kelly would love those!

Wait. Don't take that Father Christmas, complete with swan and gold accents, down from that high shelf! Can you get it for the same price (or less) at those after-Christmas sales? Probably. You'll think it's just the thing in the thrift store in October, but play patience and wait until December 27th. You'll get it for a great reduction -- most stores sell merchandise after the holidays for 70% to 90% off -- and without those character-adding chips and missing fingers. What's more, you can bask in the satisfaction of not having been taken in like all the eager souls who paid full price.

And just think how much Aunt/Grandma/Mom/Uncle Kelly will appreciate having a nice box, complete with styrofoam inserts, to store it in.

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.

Around the holidays when I have the luxury of sitting back and thinking about the gifts I want my loved ones to buy for me, I usually start lusting after kitchen appliances. This year it was an ice cream maker I wanted (but I didn't ask for -- more on that later). Last year I was so enamored of a yogurt maker that I gave it to my father, who promptly gave it right back to me. Thanks Dad! (It really is a great gadget for anyone who appreciates the power of active cultures -- and it turns out gallons of plain yogurt for pennies.)

So why didn't I ask for the ice cream maker? Because I know that if I wait a bit, I'll find one on my thrift store shop shelves at one-tenth the price. Since I know I will only use it two or three times before the novelty wares off, I'd rather not get a new one. When I'm tired of it and it starts taking up too much space in my minuscule Manhattan kitchen, I'll just return it to the 'store' -- my thrift store that is -- for someone else to use for a while. My local Salvation Army is like a lending library of kitchen gadgets.

Of course, you run the risk that you'll get the thing home and it won't work (that's actually never happened to me with kitchen appliances, since these things seem extra hardy). You also will no doubt be absent the instruction booklet or any recipe sheets. No worries, most manufacturers publish them online now. Pasta makers, popcorn poppers, espresso machines, I've seen them all for sale for $10 or less.

It's not just appliances that are fun to buy. My favorite wooden kitchen spoon came from the same thrift shop. It is so worn and smooth and ancient that I feel like a real chef just holding it in my hand. I've picked up some really nice and interesting serving spoons, bowls and other utensils. Many of my favorite juice and wine glasses come from the same source. I share Sarah Gilbert's sentiments about the beauty of the lone shapely mug that stands out on the shelves of the thrift store.

Fact is, quality kitchenware lasts and can be bought for cents on the dollar at a thrift store. What's the fun of
matching glassware anyway?

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.

I'm not much of a shopper, but there's one place in Columbus that turns me into a kid in a candy store. That place is The Habitat For Humanity Build It Again Center.

The Center, a K-Mart-sized building on the north side of town, is jammed with building supplies donated by homeowners, contractors, and companies in the Columbus area. Everything from countertops to cabinets, conduit to concrete, stairs, doors, windows, and more are for sale. All is new or gently used and priced so reasonably you can't say no. What you see is what you get, though, so be prepared to work your plan to the size of your discoveries, rather than vice versa.

The profits go to support Habitat's programs, but that isn't the motivation behind the Center. Manager Rob Cramer told me that the main purpose for the program was to reduce the amount of serviceable goods that end up in the landfill.

The Center certainly does that. On any given day, he estimates 100-300 people can be found scouring the aisles for the right supplies to turn their pad into a palace.

Where else can you find such a win-win opportunity? Help reduce waste, help fund Habitat, and save yourself some serious coin. I'm looking for a new garage door, so you might just find me there. And remember, if there's anything especially cool for sale -- I saw it first.

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.

I'm one of those people who believes in the power of books. Books should never be given away! Books are always good for you, no matter how bent or broken their spines. Books can solve anything.

That was, until I had small children. Who also loved books. So much so that they sucked on, ripped, wrinkled, and played sword fights with them. It brings new meaning to the word "bibliophile."

For many books, it's ok to let them suffer a little. Board books, after all, are meant to be licked a little by baby mouths, discovering what books are all about. The library people even have a name for it: "early literacy." But those cheap staple-bound picture books? At 50 cents from a thrift store, I'm saving a few dollars -- I can get any installment in the whole Berenstain Bears oeuvre for $2.99 apiece at my local bookstore. Saving $2.49 sounds like a good plan at the time. But when I lose half the pages within a few weeks, I'm several dollars' worth of crazy.

When it comes to a few dollars or your sanity, I think you know the way to go: get the books new! They'll last longer and they're guaranteed to already have all their pages. And that will feel so good on your linear brain.

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.

Back in college when I was a knitting demon and had no cash to spend on high quality wool -- I came up with a solution that worked like a charm: I would go to thrift stores and buy handmade sweaters that some ingrate had cast off.

I'd unwind all that hard work that some grandma put into a ridiculously styled poncho and end up with a trove of gorgeous wool to make something that suited my tastes. Just this morning my husband went off wearing mittens that I made from one such misshapen thrift shop sweater.

But, and I'm showing my age here, that technique hasn't worked lately. It worked best 20 years ago when it seemed that me and my college roommate were the only geeks under 70 sporting knitting needles.

Since then knitting has gotten very trendy. That's caused a multitude of problems for my yarn recycling scheme. First of all, it seems, any sweaters made of high quality yarn that end up in thrift shops are snatched up before I can find them. I also surmise that people are holding onto their hand-knitted gifts more often now since bulky sweaters with too-long sleeves and fabulous yarn are all too in fashion.

Finally, craft stores like Michael's now stock all sorts of cheap yarn. If I want cheap yarn I can go there. And if I try the unwind-a-thrift-sweater technique, I risk ending up with wool that is not special enough to warrant the effort.

That's not to say that you can't make fabulous "handmade" items from used sweaters found at a thrift shop. Sarah Gilbert introduced me to a technique I've also seen emulated by artisans in the East Village -- slicing up used sweaters and turning them into something new and chic -- like these amazing hats (see photo). Now that's real talent.

Thrift shops also have, of course, a wealth of fabulous sweaters to buy, as Barry Summerlin learned. As for me and my needles, these days I'm avoiding the thrift shop and splurging on yarn at my high end, oh so trendy New York yarn store.

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.

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.

But where there's a thrift shop, there's a way. When I page through cookbooks in the bookshelves of a vintage boutique, I'm not looking for favorite subjects or shiniest images. No, I'm looking for the most used book of all; the one with pages splattered with olive oil and flour and tomato sauce. The one whose recipes were followed, and then followed again.

Paying $15 or $20 for a glossy cookbook full of lovingly-composed food photos is great, if you like to experience the way food looks. Celebrity chef cookbooks? Again, you're paying to look at something, and this time it's Bobby Flay or Giada Laurentis; surely attractive folks, I'll give you that, but a cute boy just gets in the way of good food unless he's waiting in the breakfast nook. Cooking from an experienced cookbook is the next best thing to learning from an experienced chef; someone else has already done the trial and error for you. And at 50 cents to a few dollars, you can't beat the price of thrift store cookbooks. All the better to save for the ingredients!

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.

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.

But there's a dark side to this scene of homely perfection. Mugs break. And if you're clumsy like me -- or if you have a houseful of roughhousing children, like me -- it's a good bet that your tableaux are often shattered (figuratively, literally, noisily) by an errant elbow, an exuberantly tossed pillow, a swift brotherly punch. (I'm trying to break the boys of their fighting but, troublingly, they're boys.)

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.

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.

Don't get me wrong, a thrift shop is an excellent place to buy shoes. I wear a size 6 1/2 and find a bonanza of high quality footwear at my local thrift shop whenever I go there. Nine West and Bass are two of the brands I picked up recently -- current styles even! Just shine 'em up and they are ready to go, helpfully broken in by someone who updates their shoe fashions once a year.

But there, right next to these gems are the knock-offs. These shoes may look good -- in fact they probably haven't been worn much. But they come from cheap mall stores (Payless is one example) and probably cost around less than $20 new. My guess is that most of them proved so uncomfortable that the hapless buyer quickly shunted them off to the thrift shop. That's where most of the cheap mall shoes that I made the mistake of buying ended up.

I don't want to disparage Payless too much. It is a great place to buy children's shoes. My kids find their shoes comfortable and fun (there are lights and sparkles aplenty) and when they wear out I can toss them and let them buy another pair.

But shoes such as these are so cheap to buy new that there is no reason to pick them up at a thrift shop. They may be priced at $5. But look a little harder and I bet you'll find a much nicer pair that originally cost $75 or more selling for $8. Now that's a deal.

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.

One of the thrills of pregnancy is experiencing your body change week to week as it miraculously creates a new human being. One of the many challenges of pregnancy is trying to keep yourself clothed and looking neat while you morph into a whole new shape.

It's tempting to wear nothing but sweats and oversized t-shirts. But feeling good about how you look can make pregnancy more fun -- all that friendly chit chat doesn't seem quite so intrusive, for example, if you feel confident about your appearance, I'd argue. And it most likely takes high-quality maternity clothes to do the trick.

That's where your local thrift shop can come in handy. Fact is, maternity clothes are expensive. And you'll need a lot of them to make it through a pregnancy. Most pants or shirts only fit for a month before you're onto the next size. You can fill up your closet at your local thrift shop without spending a fortune. Then, when they don't fit anymore or you have your baby and can't stand the sight of the maternity clothes anymore, you can get rid of them without buyer's remorse.

One caveat: You may have to hunt around or get your veteran thrifter friends to be on the lookout for you. It seems the best maternity wear is picked up right quick in thrift shops these days. And its often only the best run shops that take the time to separate it out from the rest of the duds. Shopping for maternity wear can be hard work at thrift stores, but it will likely be well worth the effort.

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.

Talk about being a label whore!

It's the first thing you should do when shopping at a thrift store: Check the label. When I see a fabric or a pattern I like in a pile of clothes at the thrift store, the very first order of business is to check the label. This is your first test to see if it's worth buying. Is it Gap? Old Navy? Cherokee? Chances are, unless it's an unusual item or the very piece you're hunting for, this garment will go right back on the rack. I can get Cherokee new at Target. Gap and Old Navy clothes are cheap already, and cheaply made in general. Not likely to hold up to anymore use after it's already been used and packed off to a thrift store.

But there are brands out there that are worth picking up. Hanna Andersson, for example, is a fairly expensive Swedish brand that makes brightly-colored clothes for kids with a reputation of hardiness. These pieces last for years, on multiple kids. If you find them at a thrift, snap them up -- they'll serve your kids well, and their younger siblings, too. Ralph Lauren, J. Crew, or a host of other lesser-known quality brands will get a place in my cart as well. L.L. Bean sweaters that I know retail for $50 and up are always good buys, when in good condition without tears or obvious stains.

You can find designer labels, too. I'm always delighted to find pieces by Max studio and BCBG at a thrift store because I know what they sell for at the mall. I recently found a black Trina Turk top in my size at my local thrift that would have sold for several hundred at the upscale shops around Los Angeles. I bought it for $4.50

Got a mall brand you trust? Look for it at the thrift store, instead. You'll still love that argyle sweater in 18 months, long after the original owner got sick of it.

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.

I'm a sucker for a cute jacket. And growing up in Portland, Oregon, if I had a storybook vision of myself with kids, it was walking along with them, dolled up in mis-matched raincoat and boots, splashing in puddles and laughing uproariously. So whenever I'm thrift store shopping and see another adorable pair of boots or delightfully colorful rain jacket, I can't help but swoop it into my cart.

And then I get it home. And then it rains. And the trouble begins.

Raincoats and rubber boots are, unfortunately, about more than just good looks. They have to work. Even if you're an adult and accustomed to more prosaic rain behavior than my rambunctious boys: you may, for instance, desire to keep dry. When you're facing a used raincoat, that could be problematic; waterproofing is compromised when a garment is washed, for instance, and heavy use can introduce all kinds of entry points for raindrops and wind. Not only is it a possibility that the raincoat is only at the thrift store because it's not working for the original owner any more; but many thrift shops wash all their clothing before putting it on the racks, further reducing the waterproof qualities.

Rubber boots, though not susceptible to wash-and-wear treatment, are often not made to withstand several seasons' worth of jumping in puddles and running to catch the bus; you're better off as the first person to use a pair, or you could discover this truth seconds after you step in that giant puddle that always collects at your corner in a rainstorm. Sploosh.

My verdict after a couple of really messy experiences? You shouldn't thrift raincoats and rubber boots, unless you live in an area where rain is just in the storybooks.

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.

I have a bin in my basement. It's filled with brightly-colored plastic toys, each with dozens of buttons and a little plastic grate inside which is housed an electronic speaker. They've come from various sources -- a well-meaning aunt or uncle, a thrift store, a great sale at the supermarket -- and they've all ended in the same place. Banishment.

If someone else can't stand the noise, do you think you're going to be able to? Having been in this parent business for going-on-six years, I can personally vouchsafe for the typical parental behavior when faced with a Toy That Drives One Crazy. First step: Hide the toy. Second step: When the child finds the toy, again driving you crazy, you find a better hiding place, usually a garbage bag on the back porch or in your car trunk. Third step: Deliver bag stuffed with equally annoying toys to the nearest Goodwill or thrift store. Fourth step: Drive away fast, don't look back.

Chances are, that toy that's so alluring to your child in the thrift shop was victim to the four-step crazy-making toy program. You should definitely leave toys that make noise at the thrift store, where they can annoy the staff. After all, they're paid for this!

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.