Consigning clothes: the journey

Contrary to conventional wisdom, I haven't tossed or given away all my old clothes. No, I've started to consign some. I say "started to" because so far consignment is a journey to an unknown destination.

A couple of points about consigning clothes:

1. Consignment shops are choosy. They each have their own clientele, and they select clothes that are marketable to that clientele.
2. Consignment shops don't store anything. They don't just choose what they'll accept, they also choose when they'll accept it. That is, when it's in season, and when they have space for it.

That's why I found myself travelling across town with bags full of clothes, and bringing half of it back home again.

On the up side, the shop accepted 14 things (technically 17 because 3 were sets, but who's counting?). I'll get 50% of any proceeds.

The shop rejected the other 17 things I brought, but offered to accept 7 of them in August.  I can probably get at least $100 for those 7 things if I'm willing to store them for two months and take them back across town.


And then there are the clothes that I didn't bother to bring with me, since I only presented the best of the bunch.

So I still have this lovely collection of "consignable" clothes...

What next?

I'll follow up with another consignment shop which told me to call back next week, and I'll hold the fall clothes until August.

As I write this it feels pretty pathetic. But I'm stubborn and curious, so I'm willing to see how it plays out.

In the meantime, I've tossed a lot, so I've got space in my closet and empty bins in my basement, and I don't mind hanging on to these things for two more months.

And happily, despite the shopkeepers' invitation to "look around" while she reviewed my goods, I managed to get out without buying anything new, or rather old, although I was seriously tempted by a black silk satin Tahari dress with a knock-out ruffled hem.