The Goodwilliam

A number of blogs I've encountered feature super cute segs where the blogger showcases an outfit on a dime, or pulls from their closet a forgotten item and gives it a new spin, and other such creative and chic endeavors. I'm pretty sure I would fail at that game since my wardrobe consists mainly of hand-me-ups from my vastly more fashionable younger sisters (who are likely getting rid of their items because they've gone out of style...); an appalling, yet assorted, amount of band t-shirts; flip-flops; and a few pair of the same style American Eagle jeans in different shades. You may call me Diane von Furstenberg.

A consistent trend I've detected in these posts is there are a lot of way cute things c/o Goodwill (um, Grace). The Goodwill is cheap! The Goodwill has so many options! The Goodwill is exceedingly organized for a thrift store! I've a little bit written myself off in the fashion department but I do so love dressing Jordan, and her wardrobe is woefully under-winterized. This called for a Goodwilson venture on our recent spare Saturday afternoon in between mixers and soirees. Because Goodwill = Goodfun for the whole family.

Sean hate hate HATES clothes shopping, I guess because he's a boy, so he loaded Jordan in a cart and went to investigate the Dean Koontz paperbacks that were like 25¢ apiece while I perused the infant-toddler racks. I don't know if this is a universal Goodwillingham truth but ours organizes by color, not size, and - while I appreciate the aesthetic - it's a pang in the gluteus maximus to find your desired ranges. And may I just say there are some things that shouldn't be Goodwilled. Just let it go people: when the monkey pajamas are threadbare enough to see through the bottom, they've had their day.

Fifteen minutes later Sean returned to my corner of thrift pushing this

and have I mentioned he's a pushover? "Jess, every girl should have a stuffed animal that's bigger than her. They'll protect her and they'll all be best buds." He absolutely insisted on buying "at least the lion!" and since it was $2.99 I conceded, but have felt obligated to douse it with Lysol repeatedly because who knows what kind of toddler gave that up? He might've been suspect.

I hope for your approval and applause when I tell you we got all of these treasures

for $15.73. Lice lion and all. Is my penchant for stripes showing? Sorry about that.

I feel I should defend my butterfly purchase. I'm really against decals on clothing (and as I've told you before I am the authority on all things fashion), but the butterfly wasn't overly offensive and it didn't say anything like "I am the Queen" underneath, so because it looked very cozy and Jordan has nary a warm sweatshirt in her drawers, I made the concession and it only stung a little. Oh and it was $2.99. 

After I gave my purchases a good soak in the coin-op washer I dragged Jordan away from her important business that she might showcase her best Kate Moss:

Dead. On.

Her teal jegs are from Old Navy and they have me all kinds of confused. Jordan is 15 months, so I bought her 18 monthers and thought they would be amply spacious as Jordan is in the 20th and 25th percentile for weight and height, respectively. She cannot even walk straight in these they are so tight; she waddles around the living room and occasionally falls over. I don't laugh at her, promise.

But I think I've found the culprit:

120th percentile burgeoning belly

à la

 Zach Galifianakis

Anyway, if you're on a church mouse budget, if it pains you to spend $20 on a shirt that will fit your child for 5 minutes, if you're an adventurous personality, the Goodwilfred is the place to be. I actually saw some very smartly dressed young ladies leafing through the racks and was tempted to ask if they were currently donning Goodwill duds. If they were, they've got the place wired. These girls looked fab. 

But then I might've just had my sweatpants goggles on. The ones that make everyone look like a trendsetter when placed next to me.