For the third year in a row, I have attempted to sell my children's old clothing at a local children's bazaar. For 5€ and a cake (the cost to have a stand), my friend and I split a stand in an overcrowded gymnasium with dozens of other desperate mothers whose deepest wish was to get rid of all their junk.
Watching my friend, whose clothes were zipping off the table at unmatchable speed, I saw how important presentation and the right brand name can be. Her children wear designer clothes. Before the bazaar had even officially begun, she had sold 15€ worth of stuff.
For the first half-hour, I waited and waited. Fluffing up my slightly worn wares, I folded and refolded sweaters, dresses and pants. My friend took pity on me and hung up my daughter's old dress which she personally loved. In that instant, something shifted. My luck began to change as people to whom I have sold things in the past began to approach me. By the end of the first hour, I had cashed in over 20€.
My son's circus was the real reason I was there. Everything else was mere pretense. I wanted to get rid of the thing the moment I saw he never played with it. He preferred his cranes, trucks and Playmobil figurines to the wooden toy with the ferocious tigers, lions, and bears (oh my!). After an hour of haggling, I finally got someone to buy it for a third of the original price. She carted it off under her arm, dust and all.
People were rather rude. I would hold up something their little girl might like, and they scrunched up their noses and would say, "Oh, no way..." Others wanted our clothing for 50 cents, something my friend and I both refused to do. It was clear they were there to make a deal. We were tired of our stuff, but our pride remained in tact.
"I'd rather give my things away to someone who would appreciate it than someone who'll merely resell it at the next bazaar," my friend said.
All the carefully selected stuff I couldn't sell is still sitting in my car. It's not coming back into the house. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of holding a flea market out of the trunk of my car. If the weather holds, I may just do it.
Now that would be truly bizarre...