My Favorite Elephant is White

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My love for digging around in resale shops dates back to the days of Desperately Seeking Susan. Y’all remember Desperately Seeking Susan, right? The movie that was supposed to be the “star vehicle” for Rosanna Arquette, but launched a then little-known Madonna into the iconosphere instead? Get Into the Groove, and all that?  I stumbled into my first resale experience in the 80’s while walking home from a new school.  New to the area, I took the main roads home so that I wouldn’t get lost, and found a shop with a mannequin dressed in vintage clothing, complete with a mink stole, in the cluttered display window. I walked into the store, and was instantly mesmerized. I browsed the 300 square foot shop for nearly 2 hours, drinking it all in. My raven-eyes unearthed a garish rhinestone broach for 50 cents, which I bought and pinned to my neon pink Frankie Say Relax t-shirt on my way out the door.

Stylish, no?

That sparkly piece of costume jewelry spawned a love of all things vintage. I was hooked. To this day, I can’t pass by an antique or consignment shop without wanting to stop.  The thrill of the hunt for things that I never knew I needed is a powerful thing.

So when my BFF Maggie asked if I wanted to spend a girlie day resale shopping, I was all in.  Our first stop was a consignment shop that was going out of business.  That’s where we saw it: possibly the most perfect gift known to man.

Have you ever been so drawn to something in a store, something that has such an affect on you that you knew that you couldn’t possibly live without it?  It was one of those moments. We felt the gravitational pull from across the room.  We. Had. To. Have. It.

left to right, BFF Maggie and Linda

Of course it really wasn’t suited for either of us, but we both knew that this particular item would be absolutely perfect for our BFF Linda, as she is very fashion conscious, and recently had a birthday.

Needless to say, we sent Linda many many texts to taunt her with the fact that we just bought her the best birthday gift ever.  We giggled about our find all afternoon.  (And perhaps for a few days afterward.)

Linda was very intrigued by all of the hype surrounding her gift.

A little scared, but intrigued nonetheless.

Ta-da! Linda is now the proud owner of a (faux?) mink apron! Seriously.  Because who doesn’t need a mink apron of their very own? As soon as we saw it, we knew that Linda would truly appreciate the humor behind the gift.  Besides, this is the gift that keeps on giving!  We speculate that all of us may own the apron at one time or another.

Julie couldn’t help herself–she had to try on the apron, too.  Being that mink is the gift that keeps on giving, we brainstormed other uses for it.

Maggie’s hubby Darryl thought that it would be neat to have a  mink bib–like the ones they give you after ordering crab legs or lobster.

Then he decided that a mink ascot was just the ticket. Very nice.

Julie’s hubby Brian thought that a mink toupee would be cool. Love the luxurious brown hair, Brian.

While we all had designs on the many uses of a mink apron, Linda took it back. It was her birthday gift, after all. She loves it in all of it’s intended hilarity. I wonder where the mink apron may turn up next?

Sometimes the most epic gift is the White Elephant.

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  1. says

    What a hoot! I about spit coffee onto my computer when I saw the “mink ascot”. I thought Darryl was going for chest hair for a second there! I knew I was in for a ride when I saw your tag: fur apron – the gift that keeps on giving. It sounded just dirty enough to make me start giggling, and it held up through the entire post. Your friends look like so much fun. And I’m proud to say that I’m an antique/resale shop junkie myself. So many treasures, so little time.

  2. says

    Seriously, how could you even identify what that was when you first saw it? If it wasn’t on a model, I would have never figured that out. And who in their right mind came up with the idea of making a mink apron in the first place?

  3. says

    YES! I feel that magnetic pull more often than I would care to admit and it is ALWAYS towards the most ridiculous things. There is no method to my madness at all. But when you see it, it’s like you and a long lost friend have been re-united. Why wouldn’t you want to spirit that tribal-printed pair of leggings away?

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