An Ode to “Ode to Thrift stores”
I didn’t grow up with a lot of money. While clothing of course is only one part of the whole picture, almost all of my clothes were thrifted, hand-me-downs, or from the clearance rack. As an adult now looking back, I can see the creativity of my mother and godmother throughout our childhood years. While we often lacked finances, we certainly didn’t lack fun or experiences.
I heard the most wonderful poem a few years ago called “Ode to Thrift Stores.” You know when you encounter a piece of art, and you feel seen, heard, understood? This poem was an experience like that for me. I shed a tear…or five…when I heard it. (Wait for it. It’ll be linked later in this email.)
I learned how to be thrifty from an early age, but somewhere along the way I adopted the belief that that was a bad thing. That it somehow made me less than “everyone else.” Something that had brought me so much joy, rummaging through thrift stores or clearance racks for treasures, became a mark of shame and I’m-not-enoughness.
But the day I heard this poem, my perspective changed. Just like that. Art does that, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s so important to share our stories and our gifts. But that’s another email for another day…
We all have a story with lots of parts, some twists and turns. Some parts are easier to share than others, but all the parts matter and are worth being heard. The goal is not to hide what we view as the less attractive parts of ourselves, but to gently witness those parts until the beauty in them feels safe enough to show itself.
I see now that a good bit of my creative nature came out of not having a lot back then. So much of my own story involved learning to create something out of not very much. Not because I didn’t deserve more, but because that’s just part of my story. The lack didn’t mean anything about me personally. See the difference?
These days when I walk in a thrift store, I still feel twinges of that old narrative if I’m honest. But louder and truer is the voice of joy and creativity. That’s come over time, and will only get louder and louder, and truer and truer. This is only because I’ve had space held for all the parts of my story. The good, and what I used to view as the bad and ugly. The truth is all…ALL…the parts of my story are worth being seen and heard and even sometimes, eventually, celebrated. And so are yours.
A practice for caring for yourself
Find a quiet and comfy spot where you feel safe and relaxed. Take a few deep breaths, and listen to “Ode to Thrift Stores.”
What parts of your own story does this poem remind you of?
What’s something you used to love to do and love as a kid that you haven’t done in a long time? What did you dream of doing when you grew up, before anyone told you couldn't or that it wasn’t enough? Maybe it even makes your chest twinge with a little embarrassment when you think of it. Or maybe you feel excitement rising. Sit with a journal, or go on a walk, and let your mind think on this for a while if you’d like. It’s a lovely thing to think about.
Whatever comes up for you, how can you invite that part of you into your life now?
A helpful way to practice this even further is to notice whatever age you were when you were freely dreaming or enjoying that thing, and to imagine yourself now in your mind’s eye sitting with that version of you then. What do you think she wants to share with you?
You can take this practice as shallow or deep as you’d like to. Be a curious and compassionate witness to some of the beautiful parts of your own story.
A practice for connecting to God
The complex parts of our stories often come with lots of different voices. Some of the voices we hear are others, but some of them end up really just being our own voice. You're invited to sit with a story today where there is tension between a few different voices.
Below is a link to a familiar Scripture. I want to invite you to read it through three times slowly. I encourage you to read it a little slower than what feels comfortable. Notice what sticks out to you. What images, words, feelings, or phrases look like they’re in bold to you? There’s nothing for you to do here but notice. You don’t need to create meaning out of anything. Just let the words settle and sparkle.
After reading, here are some questions for you to reflect or journal on:
God asks the man and woman a question here. “Who told you you were naked?” In the places you have believed your story to be less than or shameful, who’s voice are you hearing? Who told you that about you?
What might be the truer story God is telling you? What does He see when He looks at you? What does His voice sound like in comparison to those other voices? Ask Him, and see what comes to you.
In this Scripture, God makes clothes for the naked man and woman. Can you allow yourself to ask God for help here? How do you want to ask God to cover you in the areas that have come up today? Or how do you see Him covering you already? He wants to, and will cover you.
Something Lovely
Friiiiieeeennndsss…do I have something lovely for you. My dear friend Jessi agreed to share something with us this month. Enjoy these beautiful words and this peek into a creative practice she enjoys.
“In the first round of lockdowns in 2020, I (like many other people) was spending most of my day online, hungry for something new and, most importantly, beautiful.
I came across some makers on Instagram who were practicing something called Visible Mending and thus my obsession began. As I perused the app, I came across breathtaking colors, stunning textures, and delightful little details. There was so much beauty and joy in this fabulous community of menders and I longed to be a part of it.
Unfortunately I was stuck in a cycle of clothes waste and none of my current wardrobe had anything that needed mending. So I waited, quietly pining after something worn enough to bring about the elusive wear & tear and gathering vintage and secondhand supplies from our local thrift store. My patience paid off in the form of some cheaply made socks that tore across the toe seam and we were off! I darned my first sock and though it was wonky, I was SO PROUD of it!
From there it was just a matter of time before I started to find other things that could use a little love — a pair of jeans here, a sweater there — and before long I had a little pile of clothing I could be proud of.
Mending has taught me so many things and it’s hard to put these lessons into a few words, but here are a handful of bullet points for what I have found to be important about this practice:
Learning mending techniques connects you to those who have gone before you. As I stitch I imagine my ancestors and I gathered in a circle, laughing and chatting as we work through the pile of clothing our families have worn through. In a world where we are so disconnected and community can be difficult to find, I find this image to be comforting. (and if you want to start a little online/in person sewing circle with me please LET ME KNOW because I would LOVE THAT)
Mending directly connects you to the Maker of all. The calm and quiet that comes with working with your hands is unlike anything I’ve found in other self-care practices. Stitching becomes a prayer and a meditation. As I carefully apply a patch to a worn pair of jeans, I’m reminded of how Jesus tenderly patches me up in my worn and wounded moments.
It doesn’t have to be perfectly well executed to be beautiful and functional! I’ve been doing this for almost 3 years and my technique is all over the place but you know what? Clothing that would’ve ended up in the trash a few years ago are still wearable and unique!
Mending is FUN! There is nothing quite like wearing something you put your own fingerprints on and getting to express yourself and create one-of-a-kind clothes is one of the best things in life!”
Resources:
Instagrams to Follow
Katrina Rodabaugh - @katrinarodabaugh
Erin Eggenburg - @wrenbirdmends
Heidi Iverson - @honeyfolkclothing
Lily Fulop - @mindful_mending
Books
Mend! A Refashioning Manual and Manifesto - Kate Sekules
make thrift mend - Katrina Rodabaugh
Enjoy watching Jessi Darn a sweater HERE. It's so relaxing.
I hope that you’ll give yourself the time to sift through all the content in this email over this next month. And may you walk away feeling more cared for, more connected, and as soft as ever. You are enough, you are seen, and you are so loved. See you in May.
Your Softie Friend,
Kiersten