Swap

My friend Jill is a pro clothing swapper.

She and some friends in her adopted hometown of Denver periodically cleaned out their closets (and jewelry boxes and even make-up drawers), hauled everything to someone's house, and had sort of a party as they picked through each other's castoffs.

She got to the point where she barely shopped, she just swapped. And then last fall she moved back to the Midwest and the swapping stopped.

Last night, though, she organized a swap in Omaha. She and four other girls (myself included) show up with laundry baskets and shopping bags of tops that that didn't fit right, dresses that weren't quite the right length or color, perfumes we'd been given for Christmas and had never worn.

Jill, champion swapper that she is, set out snacks and wine and arranged these cast-off items alluringly on the dining room table, the coffee table, on couches and chairs. And then she set us loose. 

For maybe 20 minutes, we rummaged through the sweaters and skirts and pants and dresses and tank tops and cardigans and pajama pants, and I don't even know what else. We constantly asked each other "why are you getting rid of THIS?" and then explained that the color was wrong or the cut was weird or that our boobs were too small/big for the clothing article in question. Or whatever. And then we moved the party into the kitchen and talked for like two hours. It was really fun, and everyone went home with a big pile of stuff. And it made me wonder why I hadn't jumped on the swapping bandwagon when the trend first hit years ago.

Most of the stuff I took home was stuff I know I'll wear -- striped tops, cardigans, a couple of plain T-shirts. I have plenty of all of these things, yet I often find myself buying new ones out of boredom (or something), and swapping seems like a good way to potentially break that bad habit. But better than that, it was a great excuse to get together with some great girls. Thanks, Jill!

(Somewhat blurry photo courtesy of my dumb Blackberry)